Polka

"C'mon man, it's one drink!" 

Alan shook his head not bothering to see who it was. He still couldn't believe what he had seen. He wasn't able to understand how everybody was so normal. How they could act like nothing had happened.

An hour ago, they were in his car. He had been excited about this party, he was in his swaggiest clothes and what made it better was that he didn't care. He didn't care about how he looked, or with whom he was going or where he was going, or what they were celebrating or why there was a guy in the backseat trying to balance a cucumber on his nose. He had the roar of the engine and wind in his hair. It was enough to make him feel alive. 

It was late at night, as expected of late night parties- but the street he entered was dimmer than ever before. He could swear that the morning before, it was the busiest places but now it seemed desolate. 

A little girl was in front of the car. She was dressed in a white, frayed frock with polka dots, and clutched to her chest some kind of fluffy toy. Alan swerved his car to avoid the girl, and hit the breaks. 

The girl skittered away. Alan cursed, rubbing at his chest, from where his heart had jumped to his throat. Half a minute later, he started up his car again to the party.

It was then, when they had reached that he noticed no one had said a word since then. He laughed and checked the rearview mirror. "Why is everyone so quiet?' 

There was no one in the rearview mirror.