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The situation was so surreal that I didn't understand what had happened to me at first. I had endured nightmares of being cornered and eaten by predators before, especially during the Belleweather scandal not too long ago. So having my head stuck in a dim, narrow space probably put me into a similar headspace.
That said, mortal discomfort is the best sum of words I can find for how I felt. Complete darkness, with no idea what's become of the pandemonium surrounding me. No idea what was happening or why, and my only real company was my own panic. Not to mention claustrophobia SUCKS.
Yep, every second I spent in that pit of despair, I felt my cheese sliding off the cracker. As much as I had avoided dark, cramped situations, fate made sure it found me at my most vulnerable. Just moments before, I was carefree, enjoying myself in the swing of the parade, allowing the music to carry me away as it did so many times before.
Why? Why did this time have to be any different?
Tears and snot were flowing off my snout, my legs were flailing, and I screamed so much I must have been blue in the face. Between my involuntarily bouts of terror, I was met with the paltry attempts of others to pull at my legs and try blowing me free of the instrument. When they were unsuccessful, my fright only intensified.
Was this how I was going to die? A fate undignified in the media, perhaps overshadowing the parade, then eventually being overshadowed by the Centennial Gala? Helpless would be an understatement; I felt forsaken. My brain could no longer process a reality where I survived this, it was too gripped by fear, and was jumbled around mercilessly by the growing frenzy of my own thrashing. My screams were starting to hurt my ears, but I couldn't help it. I was stuck in a vicious, amplifying cycle.
When the increasing sound of sirens approached me, I wish I could say my woes were silenced. That I felt saved. Instead, it only added to the gravity of the situation, as far as my mentality was concerned. At that point, I could not tell how long it had been. I'd believe you if you said hours. I missed the sunlight. I missed my parents. I missed many of the things I took for granted before getting a freaking tuba stuck on my head.
"Make a hole, make a hole! Jumbo unit, coming through!"
I didn't know exactly what those words meant at the time, I didn't even know they had me in mind with all the chaos I figured was still surrounding me. I knew it was for me when I heard another voice trying to quell my fears.
"Hang in there, you're almost out!"
I didn't believe her words, but soon enough, reality sided with them. Maybe a little too much. You see, there's only one thing I fear more than tight, dark spaces: Heights.
With a single, titanic jet of air in a response to my pleas, I finally felt myself slip free of the tuba. Only I slid out easier than butter on a hot skillet. I wasn't just free from the tuba, I was free from gravity.
For all my wailing done inside that instrument, it was nothing compared to how much I hollered realizing the terms and conditions of my freedom from it. My eyes watered, my limbs flapped, all while people and buildings became dots retreating from my view. Either by tuba or through the skies, death seemed to want me to go out in spectacular fashion.
I couldn't feel my face anymore, and my throat was burning with fatigue. All that screaming had caught up with me, and the altitude left me starved for oxygen to continue. As my ascent slowed, I swear I could've reached for the clouds and felt wool. Lacking other options, as well as the air required to stay conscious, that's precisely what I did.
My eyes started to flutter closed, and I finally accepted that this was it. There was nothing in store for me besides maybe a juicy grazing spot next to grandma. I dreamed that the wings of an angel spread wide around me, that I was tenderly whisked into the heavens. When a soft breeze and delicate sunlight greeted my body, that's when I realized I was finally free from the mortal woes of- Wait a minute.
My eyes shot open, and I was now soaking wet, lying on my back. The sound of concerned bystanders filled the air, the smell of not-so-juicy grass filled my snout, and I felt a little itchy. My eyes stung under the harsh sunlight, so I couldn't open them fully. But I soon saw a triangular silhouette filling my view, getting closer and closer, like it was gonna... gonna...
"Wait, wait, wait, you don't gotta do that! I'm alive, I'm alive!" I sat up on one arm, keeping the other extended between us. In that moment, everyone went silent. I squinted as I looked around, noting the shock frozen on each of their faces, until somebody broke the silence.
"ZEBROS!" Followed by a hoof bump.
The crowd burst into a roar of cheers and whistles while I sat there confused. That is, until I saw my parents sprinting towards me. My heart leaped from my chest, and I almost cried when they embraced me. I may not have checked into heaven, but that moment was close enough for me.
After receiving a checkup and being cleared by a thoroughly astonished medical team, I sat curbside in a towel, sipping on a soothing cup of herbal tea brought by my mom. She sat beside me as two goats walked over, one white and one black, both with matching shades and dark suits. One of them folded his shades and put them in his pocket before kneeling down next to me.
"You alright son?"
I nodded in response, taking a big sip of tea and scratching my wet shoulder. He chuckled before continuing.
"Not every day a dik-dik gets stuck and launched out of a freaking tuba. About the same odds of surviving a fall like that, unscathed no less. Zebra team caught you floating like a newborn calf out in the river. Just begs a lot of questions." He pursed his lips, taking a grain of salt. "You happen to see anything up there, champ?"
I paused for a moment, glancing at my mother, who held her smile and rubbed my back.
"No sir, not from what I can remember."
He gazed into my eyes for a second, looking back at his partner, before standing up and throwing his shades back on. He released a sigh as he spoke.
"Well then, if you remember anything suspicious at all, drop by the ZPD and they'll give us a call. Get some rest son. Ma'am. " With a grin, he and his partner turned to walk away from us. I briefly overheard them before they got in the car.
"I didn't even get to use it, man. Ain't that some shit?"
"Shut up and drive."
After they sped away, mom gave me a kiss on the cheek, feeling the dampness of the towel starting to build up more than she was comfortable with. She smacked her lips.
"Oh, that won't do. Your father ran to grab you a clean pair of clothes, hopefully he'll be back soon. Lemme go grab you a fresh towel hun. Be right back." She rose up and headed over to the police cruiser, politely requesting some fresh towels for me. I itched at my shoulder again, but this time, I lifted the towel and looked underneath my wet shirt.
I couldn't believe my eyes.