What’s it like to be in a mosh pit? Have you dive into the pit? And if so, how would you describe it to someone who’s never been to a punk show?
The following is an excerpt from my upcoming novel What the Hell Ever Happened to Casey Varga? I am posting this because I am looking for feedback, from veteran moshes as well as people who have never been in the pit. How does this work? Any suggestions for things to add or take out? Any kind of feedback helps! This is definitely a work in progress!
The band came onstage with their long, multicolored hair and long antique dresses. They took up their instruments as Miranda stood on the left side of the stage.
When the band started up Skye weaved through the crowd and made her way to the edge of the pit. The music was loud and fast, throbbing through Skye’s ears and getting her blood moving.
Only a few people were circling for the first song. During the second song more and more people threw themselves into the mix, moving in a circle, swinging their arms and legs or simply running around, colliding and running into each other like bumper cars.
The pit was a decent size once the band had gotten to their third song. The frantic drive of the loud and fast music had Skye’s skin tingling by now as the violent sound of the speakers shook her bones. The pit crowd was swirling around in a wide circle as two stocky punks stood in the center. The outer edges brushed up against the rest of the crowd.
A few people ran into Skye as she stood right next to the pit. A young shaggy-haired man came flying towards her. She shot out her hand and quickly pushed him back in before he could slam into her, giving Skye a quick rush, setting her heart beating and her skin tingling.
Skye decided to jump in. She got in behind a couple of flight jackets and followed the bouncing leaders as the skipped along, waving their arms back and forth in an exaggerated march. She shot out her arms as she charged around the circle, her body and her blood vibrating to the ear-splitting music.
She got elbowed by a couple of flying shorties, whirling around in a chaotic semi-circle in their patch vests. Her skin tingled and throbbed where she had been hit as she circled with the crowd.
Skye performed an inadvertent body slam when she slipped on a puddle of sweat, launching herself into a couple of leather jackets in front of her.
One of them hooked arms with her and started skipping around the pit, pulling her along. It only took a couple of skips for Skye to synchronize herself with the leather jacket. They took a few turns around the pit, bumping and occasionally flying into people standing around the edge before careening back into the interior, as Skye and someone she didn’t even know joyfully ran into fellow moshers.
They unhooked after a couple of turns when they got tangled up with some teenage fashion punks that were whirling around the pit in random directions.
Launching herself back into the rush as she careened into the pit crowd, everything was a a moment of sheer chaos: the ear-splitting music, the flailing bodies, the crashing limbs pummeling her from various directions, her heart-throbbing blood, the heat of the packed bodies, and the rush of simply tearing around in reckless abandon, causing an adrenaline rush.
After a few more turns Skye brought herself to the outer edge of the pit to catch her breath as a warm wave washed over her. She stood for only a moment before she started a slow walk back towards the pit as she felt the blood pumping through her limbs, feeling the warm and tingling throbs on her arms and shoulders, the pointed places where she had been punched and bumped and slammed into.
She was about to rev herself up and do another turn in the pit when a flight jacketed baldy circled by and broadside her with a friendly shoulder. She launched herself once again into the pit, swinging her arms and legs and caught up to him to give him a return bump. He opened his eyes wide, crossing them and pursing his lips as he did a couple of pirouettes, bumping his elbows up against a few flying punks.
Skye and the baldy began skipping in time, just as a skinny young woman with a flaming red mohawk slipped an fell backwards in front of them. Without missing a beat they both bent down, each one grabbing an arm, and hoisted the red mohawk onto her feet and gave her a good forward push to launch her back into the turning mass.
Skye lost the baldy in the turning mass and retreated to the edge of the pit, feeling her heart beating in every part of her body as the song ended. A warm rush ran over her as her body grew hot and her sweat cooled her skin as she tried to catch her breath.
