Spoiler! :
To R. and E. for being amazing sisters, fans critics and little monsters.
A Sweet Soundin' Melody
It was a day like all other days that summer - the scorching heat, the neighbourhood kids playing in their gardens with their water hozes and blow-up pools.
The older kids - the teens - stayed indoors, too lazy and hot to go outside. They lay almost topless in their living rooms watching television; most of the teenage girls were moving their feet and clicking their fingers to the songs being played on the Summer Hits Show while the boys spent their days sweating infront of surfing competitions and other extreme summer sports.
The grown ups, well atleast most of them, were at work, the air-conditioners running all day long, however the heat still managed to stress them out. Other parents, mostly mummies and daddies who didn't go to work or teachers who were also on holiday, remained at home with their children on vacation, or in town, shopping.
Most houses had their windows open unless they had the air-conditioner on. Sounds from the houses around could be heard: dogs whining, radios and televisions cracking and buzzing, babysitters on the phone... but the same repetitive sounds were slowly muffled out by a sweet sounding melody. This tune made all the children stop in their steps for a few seconds and they ran to their parents, older siblings or any other person guarding them during the day.
Alright, honey," was what every mother at home said.
"Yeah, sure," was the answer they got from babysitters or nannies.
"Yeah whatever. Don't forget mine!" Was a teenager's reply. It was my reply.
The ice cream van was parked just at the end of our street, only two houses down, yet the melody seemes to be moving further and futher away, slowly fading out of my hearing distance. I assumed it must have been because of the heat. The van couldn't be gone - the kids had not come back yet and I was still waiting for my mint-and-chocolate-chip ice cream, my mouth watering before I had even seen the thing.
About fifteen minutes went by. My thirteen-year old brain thought: Maybe there's a long queue, I sat up surprised by how long it was taking for that ice cream man to give all those children their cold snacks. Nonetheless, I still wondered why I couldn't hear the van's melody playing, and it intruiged me to think of the absence of an ice-cream van's tune and yet the children hadn't returned.
Barefoot, I ran onto the street - the roasting tarmac pricking at my feet - I was only wearing my favourite red and white flowery summer dress. The entire surroundings were deserted - the hozes were still pouring wasted water all over the gardens, rubber ducks were left floating in circles in the blow-up pools, and though I felt like I was burning alive, readily in the afternoon, the breeze that blew chilled me like a Siberian winterland's wind as I saw empty ice cream cones on the ground, with tons of empty-looking pairs of eyes rolling on the street. I saw Emily's - delicious hazel - staring back at me, making me unable to move or scream. The liquid ice cream trickled between my paralised toes and I didn't even twitch.
It was a day like all other days that summer - only all the children were dead. That sweet soundin' melody had put en end to playtime.
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