This is something I wrote a while ago...it could possibly be the start of something longer but for now I'm leaving it as it is.  Any comments would be appreciated!  This is the first time I've posted anything so sorry if the paragraphing or anything comes out wrong!

I could still hear the deep booming roar of the drums, though the procession was nearly out of sight. The concrete beneath my feet still vibrated with the sheer energy and sound of the music, and the colour of the lavish costumes seemed to still spin before my eyes. The cries of the crowd, singing, chanting, roaring at the top of their voices rolled on, their stamping feet echoing the thunderous drums. I was jostled about, pushed from side to side, so that it seemed as though the ground itself was rising up, attempting to shake me from its surface, and the heat from the sun, streaming down unchallenged by even a single cloud, meant that I was sweltering in my red and blue striped t-shirt.

It wasn’t as though I minded though. We came here every year, and I had grown accustomed to the uncomfortable conditions to which I was subjected - the magic of the Carnival made it bearable. It was the costumes I most loved – the people wearing glittered masks, long dresses, wings, tall hats, face paint, headdresses…like something out of a dream, gone in a whirl and flurry of colour and light and music. It was an escape.

I turned around, to glance up at my mother, who should have been stood behind me, as she always was. For the past seven years she had stood there, a silent sentinel, making sure I was ok, watching over me. It was the reason I could enjoy the Carnival without a care, knowing she would keep me from danger. But that year…I looked up, and she wasn’t there. In her place, a woman, with long blonde tresses of hair, and a short red dress stood, drinking from a can of beer. I scanned the area around me, turning my back to the street where the last of the police officers trailing the procession were disappearing up the street. The woman in the red dress must have seen me; she bent down, her heavily perfumed scent near choking me.

"You alright, love?’ Her voice was coated in sweetness, which was out of tune with the jangling of her golden bracelets as she leant down. I shook my head, eyes widening in fear as I backed away. "What’s wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, frantically searching the crowds. I couldn’t see her. I pushed past the blonde woman, who muttered at me under her breath as I caused her to spill some of her drink. I didn’t care; I pushed my way through the crowds. People all looked the same; they all merged into one wave of noise and movement, grunting and grumbling as I pushed past. The electrifying clamour, the stamping, the jeering and swaying no longer seemed magical, but threatening, as if I would be swallowed up whole by the crowd at any second. ‘Where was she?’ I couldn’t understand. She was always there. She wouldn’t leave me alone.

I suddenly burst through the last wall of people, onto the street where those who weren’t interested in the Carnival were hurrying past, working their way past the crowd. It was light here, I could breathe fully again without taking in the stench of beer and sweat. I stood, breathing heavily; thankful to have made it out into the open, where the panic began to subside for a moment.

But only for a moment. The shops reared up before me, the crowd were behind. I looked up at the impenetrable blue sky once again – and for what was to be the first of many times, I felt abandoned, alone, and lost.