I probably only have a couple more hours or maybe even minutes before I completely lose my sanity. My curtains are drawn and my doors and windows all locked, but every time I peer through a gap in the blinds, they all make eye contact with me and begin to get closer.
It all began the night before last. I woke up at 3am to the sound of music playing outside. I immediately recognised it as Fly-Day Chinatown and looked out my window to see some kid recording himself dancing to it. This was strange in itself, but it’s not unusual for parents around here to let their children roam the streets at all sorts of hours and this boy looked more like an older teenager. I considered telling him to be quiet, but as a 5’2 20-year-old woman living alone, I knew it’d be a fight I probably wouldn’t win. I banged on my window hoping to get his attention but to no avail. It was then that one of my neighbours exited his house and walked up to the boy. I could see their conversation getting heated but couldn’t hear a word of what was being said. Suddenly, the boy shouted something (I don’t know what) and the man began to dance. The boy left and the music stopped but my neighbour stayed outside, dancing passionately in his pyjamas.
I decided this must be a dream or sleep-induced hallucination, or my tired eyes were seeing things incorrectly (I wasn’t wearing my glasses either). I went back to bed, simply grateful the music had stopped, and awoke the next morning completely having forgotten about the occurrence. That was until, whilst making myself a cup of tea, I saw them - my neighbour, his wife, and their daughter all dancing the same as he’d been last night. Had they been there this whole time? Surely not. I recorded it for a few seconds to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, and sure enough it all showed on camera.
I sent the video to my boyfriend and explained what had happened the night before and he agreed it was weird, but he couldn’t come over as he was at his parents’ house, and I couldn’t ask another neighbour because it was still quite early on a Saturday. Not wanting to bother anyone or watch the family any longer, I settled down on the sofa and began my day by watching TV.
At some point I must’ve fallen asleep, because I woke up at 1:30pm to my phone ringing. Groggily, I answered and almost jumped out of my skin when Fly-Day Chinatown played at full blast from the other end of the call. I immediately hung up the phone and shook my head to try wake myself up. Was this real? Without thinking, I got up from the sofa and looked out my kitchen window to now see more of my neighbours dancing together. No music. They weren’t smiling, singing, talking, nothing. Just dancing nonstop, their eyes wide as if they’d just seen a ghost.
I called my boyfriend, asking him what I should do, and he told me to stay inside. He mentioned the dancing plague and said it was probably best I don’t look at them anymore and close my curtains, which I did. I then turned my TV volume up to prevent hearing their feet shuffling outside, and blocked the number that had previously called me. I didn’t look outside again until today.
I thought by now maybe they’d have stopped, collapsed from exhaustion, or someone would’ve called the police. I woke up to missed calls from all sorts of unknown numbers but refuse to answer any and I block them all straight away. About an hour ago, though, I started to receive strange messages. They’re all from different numbers, too, and all one letter in morse code. It didn’t take me long to figure out what they were saying. Fly-Day Chinatown. Of course.
I’ve glanced outside a few times but every time I do, I regret it. More and more people keep appearing, dancing furiously, their eyes getting wider each time, so much so it looks incredibly unnatural and uncomfortable. They know I’m here. When I look outside, they stare at me, dancing towards my apartment. None of them have entered the building, I’m guessing because they haven’t figured out how to incorporate it into their dances, but I know it’s only a matter of time. My boyfriend should be here any minute. He’ll take me to his parents’ house two hours from here and I’ll call the police then. I’m scared of making any noise in case it makes the dancing people more determined to get me.
Oh, he’s here now. He’s in the car, not dancing at all, and they all seem unbothered by him. Hopefully I’ll get to the car unscathed.