I love to write.

Don't be afraid to comment, or critique, but don't be too harsh, I type fast and don't really pay attention to grammar/spelling, and I'd prefer more "Content Critique"

   Drawing was originally what I wanted to
make a career of, even when I was little. My mother and all my peers
always told me how little careers were available for artists, and how
it would be a life long struggle and how I would not make it. I
pursued however, and get paid for art, even now. I only wrote once
independently in 3rd grade, and it was a story I worked on for three
years. However, I will admit now, it was so awful; I ended up
deleting the entire thing. I didn’t write independently again until
late 7th grade, early 8th. In my downtime, I focused more on my art,
which readily improved, while my writing did not.

  Whenever I tried to read something
I wrote to my mom she would zone out, and wouldn't be present in
the room, even though she was physically there. I knew she didn't
approve of my goals in writing and art, but creativity was how I
expressed my self. Math's, sciences, and other subjects didn't
come so easily to me, like they did, and I knew it disappointed her.
I still struggled, telling me self, they were right, I could never
possible be a writer. In 9th grade I lost all interest in writing,
telling my self, it would never happen, and that I hated writing. For
a while, I convinced my self to believe this was true and loathed
writing with a passion.  

  10th grade is when I decided to
take Creative Writing. It was one of the best decisions of my writing
career. It allowed me to explore all the different mediums, ones I
hadn't even attempted before. It allowed me to bloom creatively,
and express myself for once. I improved drastically.

  My stories, poems, novella, and
other, take on aspects of my life. They grow like vines from other
things I have read, blossom from my own experiences, and bloom into
the written piece I end up with. Writing is a struggle I faced most
heavily in middle school, which is when most people were deciding, it
was impossible for me to become any sort of writer, even in my free
time. My epiphany was when I decided to submit most of my work into
the Scribes’ literary magazine this year. Even before I was still
unsure of my work, struggling to believe I was good. This changed,
however, when I got fourteen submissions accepted into scribes, where
as every other year, I've only gotten one, and they were my
drawings, not my stories. This boosted my confidence immensely, and
instead of just showing my closest friends my pieces, I decided to
expand even farther.

  I found a website that was looking
to hire a well-versed writer for their site. Coming up with new
plots, short stories, the usual. I applied, with nervous heart and
sweaty hands. After conversing with one of the more “in the know”
staff members, they told me I had an 80% chance of getting in, and
she would let me know even if I didn't get accepted, however I
still have no heard from them. I try not to get discouraged, because
I remember what the people I talked to said, and how I had a very
high chance of becoming their writer, which encourages me greatly.

  I believe my strongest quality, is
my passion. I use genres that are dusty, and unexplored, such as
magical realism, just to name one. I don't like to conform my
pieces to whatever is popular, be it wizards, vampires, zombies, or
what have you. My pieces are individual, they stand out, and they are
enticing. My friends and readers always ask me when there will be
more, when can they read more. It encourages me to spur my writing,
and continue to do so. I like to see how absorbed they are as they
delve into the depths of my minds creativity, it fascinates me.  

Writing isn’t just something I do
in my free time. Writing is my passion. Writing is something I’ve
struggled with for a long time, and I had to learn not to care what
the disbelievers say. I have to believe in myself, and my abilities.
I will continue to write, for as long as I am able, because writing
is my love, my passion, and my life.

Enter the creative world, and venture
to lands unexplored.

A Beautiful Bird

There once was a
duck that swam in a pond. He was the only bird who swam in that pond.
One day the duck was feeling lonely and sad, until he heard a loud
caw. In his field of vision he saw the most beautiful bird he had
ever seen, it’s beautifully colored tail fanned out in the suns
light. The bird turned toward the plain old duck and gave him a
snooty look.

“What are you
looking at?” it chided, eyes narrowing at the duck.

“Sorry, you’re
just so pretty.” Replied the duck, lowering his head in shame.  

“Well you’re
boring, and I don’t talk to boring birds.” Laughed the peacock as
he strutted away. Duck was wounded, he felt so ashamed.

The very next
day, a teenager walked by. The duck swam to the end of the pond, and
gave a loud quack. The teenager was wearing a hat that the duck
desperately wanted so that he was no longer boring. Just then, a
strong wind happened to blow, knocking the hat off the teenagers
head. It floated off into the middle of the lake, because of the
wind. The duck eagerly paddled over to it, seeing as the teenager had
already left in dismay. The duck put the hat on, and he felt much
better. The next day the peacock stopped by again.

“Look!”
exclaimed the duck gesturing towards his new hat. The peacock walked
toward the duck and scoffed.

“You call that
color? THIS is color!” shouted the peacock, as he spread his
brilliant tail feathers. The duck looked down and frowned at his
boring yellow feathers. The peacock strutted away laughing yet again.
The duck felt ashamed, and paddled away, embarrassed. The next day,
still wearing his green hat, duck was walking around in the meadow by
the lake. The duck saw a flash from a bush, and he was curious so he
waddled over to it. He found a pair of black glasses, which were
reflecting the suns light. He thought they were cool so he put them
on. Yet again he felt much better about himself. He waddled back into
the lake swimming around happily in circles. Off in the distance he
heard the caw of the peacock. He felt a build up of dread in his
chest. The peacock walked into the meadow, its head bobbing with
pride. The duck kept quiet this time and continued swimming in
circles. Suddenly he heard the peacock laughing loudly. Preparing
himself for the worst, the duck drew in a large breath and turned
around to face the peacocks harsh words. The peacock ceased its
laughter and gave the duck and scrutinizing look, a smug ex
pression
on his face.

“You look
ridiculous!” crowed the peacock, as it broke into another fit of
laughter. The duck started to feel worst, before a realization
crossed its mind….It didn’t care.

“You know what
peacock… you may be beautiful on the outside, but you are the
ugliest bird on the inside, and I don’t care what you think of me
anymore. I’m beautiful on the inside.” The peacocks’ laughter
ceased immediately, and ended with almost a choking sound. The
peacock didn’t say anything and just walked away. The duck felt
much better, and realized he didn’t need anyone to tell him who or
how to be, he was just happy being himself.

The colors that paint me

Sometimes I’m pale blue—

Quiet like the pattering of a child’s footsteps.

Promises of a closed door, amongst a hidden corridor.

Drifting and dancing from place to place, never quite sure where to go.

Pale like the evening sky where the sun and the moon battle for triumph.

Pale like the waters that wash upon the shore.

Slow and strong, like a steady heart beat.

Other days I’m a brilliant green—

Glowing and burning like a bright ember.

Bursting with life like a new blade of grass.

Exploding with unbound happiness.

Jittery and joyful, like a bright summer day.

Green like a meadow blowing peacefully in the breeze.

Sparkling like the setting sun set upon a grassy hillside.

Vibrant and Creative, fresh paint upon the canvas.

Words unfolding like the climax of a novel.

Empty palace

He sits all day in the great palace

No one was left everyone had fled

He showed far too much malice

What kind of emperor looses his head?

The city could’ve flourished, been alive with lights

Forget the blood shed

Forget the fights

Everything stained with dark crimson red

Dark nights prolonged with the screams of men

They fell stark and lifeless, they were all dead

The knives stabbed through again, and again.

Darkness

Sleeplessly I watch

The lights begin to dim

The city goes quiet

Everything feels grim

Even the crickets cease to play their nightly song

Flashes of shadow upon the wall

A ghost beckons me, tells me to come along

So I follow leading me through twisted corridors

Spider webs adorn this place

She leads me down, down, down

Never to come back, not leaving a single trace.

The violent shore

Walking the beach for shells

Everything is peaceful

Children laugh, mothers scold

Ice cream plops into the sand

Waves crash calmly upon the sandy shore

I pick up a shell Its bright pattern swirling

I admire it not paying attention to the beach

The others fade my focus on the shell

I didn’t notice what was going on

The screams and shouts surrounded me

I felt the wave just like a slap

That’s when everything went black

Vroom Vroom

I could see the car speeding past me, a blur as its engine accelerated forward, at least twenty MPH above the designated speed limit. I saw the dark blue minivans front bumper cave in as the speeding silver Volkswagen smashed into it, the high pitched squeal of hot metal resonating in the air. From my position on the side walk, I could see the Volkswagens drivers body jar forward, their head connecting with the inflated air bag, their face being swallowed as if drowning in the ocean. Their seat belt lurched, trying to uphold the thrown wait. As for the minivans driver, it was a young lady about thirty, who had a messy bun falling down in front of her eyes as her head was whipped back and forth wildly. I could see from here, that she was about eight months pregnant, her stomach swollen and round. I took a second glance at the women, forcing myself to look at the horrible scene, and I noticed that I knew the woman. She was my aunt Colleen, I hadn’t recognized her blue minivan, because I hadn’t seen her in ages and I wondered what she was doing out so far away from home, especially being pregnant with child.

The cars both stopped accelerating; the Volkswagens door was ripped off, exposing hissing wires and hot metal, as well as the brutal scene held inside. I could hear sirens off in the distance, followed by the flash of red and blue. The metallic stench of the air was almost overwhelming; coating my throat and making my eyes burn with tears. I felt a sob rack my body, the odd sound escaping from between my dried lips. One of the engines suddenly whirred, making a few mechanical popping noises before it suddenly burst into flames. I screamed, falling to the ground on my knees, the harsh concrete scraping them. It was my aunts car, and she was unconscious. I got up, starting to race towards her, when a firm hand gripped my shoulder, yanking me back.

“It’s not safe over there miss.” said an old fellow, about sixty. He was wearing a dusty old police uniform that looked about ten years too old.

“You don’t understand! That’s my aunt!” I screamed the tears and the smoke burning my throat with a raw pain, almost like swallowing sandpaper. He kept his hold on me despite my struggles, the pain consuming me as I watched the flames roll over the vehicle. Four state troupers ran towards the flames, one of them desperately tugging on the glowing metal door handle, attempting to rip the door open. It finally pried free, and he leaned into the car, the flames threatening to erupt at any moment. A team of firefighters had begun getting their equipment, just as the trooper freed my aunt, holding her close to his chest, her head lolled to the side resting on his shoulder. The firefighters turned on their hoses, aiming them at the rising fire, tampering it down with the jet of water streaming from their powerful hoses. I watched, my eyes brimming with tears, the mans firm hand still resting on my shoulder, this time as a comfort, and not a restraint. An ambulance screamed nearby, its sirens wailing, and the trooper carried my unconscious aunt towards it, his steps hurried and sure footed. The stretcher waited, the crisp white sheets, almost like a flag of surrender. I pushed to my feet, the mans hand falling from my shoulder as I rushed over to the stretcher, watching as he tenderly placed her on it. Two nurses who had been standing by quickly attached tubes to her, as well as placing an oxygen mask over her face, the machine clicking as the oxygen flowed threw the tubes and into her mouth. The trooper turned his kind eyes towards me, there brown like an endless pool.

“Do you know this woman?” He questioned, his voice filled with compassion and sorrow at having witnessed such a horrible tragedy.

“She’s my aunt.” I managed, choking out the words.

“You can come with us, hop in the back.” He offered, gesturing to the open and awaiting ambulance, where my aunt was currently being placed. I nodded solemnly, climbing into the back and taking my place on a sterile white bench across from my aunt. Looking at her was almost to much to handle, seeing her like this. Her skin was as pale as the sheets she rested on, her bun gone, probably removed by one of the nurses. Her hair was strewn messily around the angular planes of her ashen face, her soft eyelids closed against the cruelty of the world. Her frigid hands rested next to her sides, as most of her body was covered with the white sheet upon her bedding. I could see a bit of her chest leering out from underneath the uniform sheets, and it was spattered with dried spots of blood, making me cringe. I stared sadly at her swollen stomach, the large bump in the sheet a reminder of what she carried with her. My ever falling tears left dots where they landed on the sheet, marring the unending whiteness. The ambulance sped along, uninterrupted aside from the bumps and turns of the road, when finally we arrived. Dozens of pairs of feet pounded on the concrete outside, and the doors to the back of the ambulance were flung open wide, as a crew of nurses and doctors all hurriedly surrounded my aunt, grabbing her bed by the handles and rushing her to the emergency room. Forgotten, I sullenly followed, trying to keep pace with the racing medical staff, my feet slapping against the tile floor of the endless corridor. They slid her into room 14, where the windows were open and the sunlight streamed in, all too cheery for this current situation. They quickly surrounded her, and I was asked to leave for the operation. I grimaced, leaving the room against my will. I took my seat in a sitting room not to far down the wall, a cheery poster with a kitten reading:

“Hang in there!”

It made me feel horrid all over again, wondering how the world could keep spinning, how people continued to be happy while my aunt was on the verge of death’s door. My foot tapped impatiently, marching to its own rhythm upon the white tiled floor. Seconds felt like hours, and minutes felt like days. After I was sure that I had been sitting there for weeks, waiting impatiently, a nurse approached me. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, wearing a simple starched nurses uniform, her dark brown hair in a messy updo, strands of escaped hair hanging down in her face, some strands hovering in front of her large almond eyes.

“Are you Alyssa?” she squeaked, her voice nasally and mouse like.

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and she signaled for me to follow her. I left my home in sitting room, and followed her down the now familiar corridor. We entered room 14, and I saw my aunt, her hair brushed and flowing like a bright halo around her angelic face. She gently turned her head to me. Her bright green eyes glowing with life and love.

“Alyssa.” Was all she said, but it was enough. Tears of joy sprang from my eyes, and I rushed towards her, wrapping my arms around her tenderly, taking care not to squeeze her to hard. The nurse watched from the entrance of the door way, a smile on her short face.

“She had a minor concussion, and we’re pretty sure she has a broken leg, but otherwise, you’re aunt is fine.”A cheer of excitement escaped my lips, before another thought dawned on my mind. “And the baby?” I whispered, my voice full of fear and anticipation.

“It’s a boy.”

Mouse Trap

As he stepped outside he pulled the heavy door behind him with a final click of the lock. His thin wiry glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose, and after whacking him self in the face with his sleeve, he managed to get them back in the right spot. He turned back towards the empty best buy building, locking up the outside lock with the key dangling from the loop of his khaki shorts. His thick hair fell over his eyes as he bent, and he flipped it back as he stood up, stray pieces saluting the night. He quietly scanned the parking lot, heart rate fluttering as it always did when he had to close the store at night. It made him uncomfortable. He lifted his blue sleeve, revealing pale skin and waxy freckles. He checked the time and heaved a sigh before deciding to venture the walk home, instead of wait the half hour for the bus. Heavy sneakers smacked against the paved sidewalk, making much more noise then he usually noticed. The silence all around him was frightening, and eerie. He needed some kind of noise. He began to untwist the headphones shoved hastily into the crevice of his pocket, and stuck them in his ears. With the switch of a button his world became Beethoven, filled with wonderful strings and brass and such instruments. His fingers began to waggle like conductors, moving to and fro, this way and that. He was glad there was no one to watch him. A rustle caused him to stop suddenly, sneakers squeaking in protest. He slowly reached into his pocket and clicked the volume down, a faint beat still steadily buzzing into his ears. He stood there, scanning and watching carefully. His heart rate had increased tenfold, and he could feel the first pinpricks of sweat beginning to form upon his brow. He angrily wiped it away with the hem of his sleeve, cursing himself for a fool. He continued stomping his way home, music back to full blast, violins screaming in his ears. The crash he heard faintly went ignored, filed away as the psychological tricks of ones brain. The continuous turns of the city began to decline into the fuzzy edges of forest. Feet switched from cement to dirt, and the atmosphere felt like another world. He felt more relaxed here, the tension carried from the city dissipating like the dew from a plants leaf. He shut off his music and put it away, allowing his ears to be lulled by the chirps of birds and insects. There song battles rung in his ears and caused his pace to slow more, feet dragging hesitantly. He wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as he could. Eventually his steps slowed so much so, that he found him self standing in place. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, allowing the saturation of the forest to liven the smells of dirt, animals, and flowers. They commingled and formed something beautiful, a scent so pure that it rid his body completely of the looming fog from the city. A branch snapping caused his body to twist toward the sound and become rigid. He held his breath, remaining silent. Soft foot steps sounded in the area around the twig, almost playful as if mocking him. Annoyed with himself and his skittish behavior, he stepped out of the small forest, dense canopy replaced by bright moonlight, casting dancing shadows over the land. He could’ve sworn he still heard the small footsteps, but he knew he shouldn’t let it get to him. Fields rolled in front of him, yellow and huge. He could see the roof of his house, red against the pale yellows and greens of the pastures. He was still pretty far, and his feet were getting sore. He squinted his eyes against the harsh light as he continued forward, grass tickling against his calves gently. A louder thud got his attention, and this time he didn’t dismiss it. He whirled around, the anger practically causing him to spit.

“If someone is following me, then cut the crap! Get out here and face me!” He screamed, causing a flock of black birds to burst from the forest canopy. Nothing answered him aside from the plaintive moo from a nearby cow. He clenched his fists, and reached down to pick up a heavy rock in his hand. He bounced it a couple times in his palm, *censored* its weight, before chucking it towards the noise. He heard it land on the ground, but nothing more. He knew he had heard something, but whatever it was, it was gone. He continued home, feet hurried and heart quickened. He wasn’t sure how much more he could stand. The door slammed behind him and he winced, hoping he didn’t wake anyone up. He headed over to the fridge, clammy hands pulling against the cold metal of the handle. The small triangle of light blinded him for a moment, spots dancing in and out of his vision. He shook his head and began digging around before settling on last nights dinner. He shoved them in the microwave, and soon the smell of pasta began to fill the room, and his stomach grumbled impatiently. He waited, fork ready until the loud ding sounded, and he set it carefully on the wooden counter, sitting down on the stool and watching the steam waft off his dinner. He didn’t bother waiting for it to cool off, and wolfed it down, the heat burning his mouth and scorching his tongue, but he didn’t care. He set the dish and fork in the sink and wiped off his mouth with his dingy blue sleeve. A quick walk and he was in the bathroom, waiting as the shower water slowly warmed from freezing to luke warm. He shed his sticky clothes and climbed in, sighing as the water loosened his muscles and washed away the stress and the dirt from the long day. His hair plastered to his head was bugging him, and he quickly washed it, using the soap to hold it back out of his face. He heard light footsteps walking around in the kitchen, and realized he probably woke his mother up. He quickly finished his shower and wrapped a soft white towel around his waist, tying it securely before leaving. His wet footsteps left small puddles in his wake, and he was moving painstakingly slow, so as not to alert his mom. He pressed his back flat against the wall and peeked around the corner through the door and into the kitchen. There was a lady, about 5’9 and she was in all blacks and dark greens. She was facing away from him, but he could see a strand of hair escaping from her dark cap, and it was dark brunette. She held a frame in her hands, and her fingers were sliding across the picture in side. She turned slowly and he held his breath. She only turned halfway, her gaze staring out the window. He saw the side of her face, all pale skin and sharp cheekbones. She was very pretty but he had no idea who she was. His weight shifted ever so slightly, causing the floorboard to creak underneath him. He winced inwardly, but it was too late. She whipped around to face him, and the last thing he saw of her was her blazing hazel eyes. He turned and ran, feet wet and slippery against the slick floorboards. He panted, clutching the towel around his waist. He didn’t hear footsteps behind him, but he heard the crash of glass breaking. He froze, and against his better judgment he headed back into the kitchen. The thick paneled window she had been staring out of was smashed to pieces, blood smeared on one part of the panel that was left, and the picture frame was face down on the ground, also smashed. He picked it up, mindful of the shards of glass sticking out like tiny knives. The picture had blood smeared over it, causing a chill to roll down his spine. Faintly he could see his school picture, except in black marker some changes had been made. The outline of a skeletal head had been traced onto his face and his eyes widened. He flipped the frame over and a small note fluttered to the floor. He bent over and picked up, all the while holding his breath. What he saw on the note caused all of his breath to release in a silent scream.

It was the same skull traced onto his picture, dripping blood and signed with an illegible signature. He dropped the note, letting it flutter and land on the floor, right into the bright red puddle of blood.

Wunschen gut

It was an impressive stone structure, massive and imposing. No one remembers when or how it got there, all they knew was that it was as constant as the draught that plagued the dry lands.

I sat on its low wall, running my hand over the cold, dark stone. The well shimmered eerily under the curtain of white moon light, and I could see the small ripples of fresh water moving ever so slowly.

I remember that when I was little, instead of just throwing a coin down and making a wish, I’d do something special. I would fold little paper boats, and hide a shiny gold coin in the folds of the mast. Then, I would lower the ship in the bucket, watching it bob and dip in the water. Eventually, my mom discovered my sailing adventures, and made me fish out every single last boat.

There were a hundred in total.

I called them my wishing boats, even though none ever came true.

Until now.

I faced towards the moon, my feet kicking over the black hole of the well. My white night slippers were now brown on the soles, the ribbons tattered and sparse. I accidentally kicked my toe against the opposite wall, causing my slipper to loosen and fall, ribbons waving goodbye.

I heard a faint splash as they hit the bottom, and I peered down, gripping my wall for support. I could see it faintly, and sighed, knowing my mother was going to scold me if I didn’t attempt to get it. I slid off the wall, my bare foot freezing against the damp dirt.

I reached up and grabbed the rotting wooden bucket, feeling the soft wood beneath my pallid finger tips. I began to pull, the fraying rope making a frightening snapping sound. I slowed my progress, inching the bucket down until I could no longer see it. I felt it hit the bottom, and using the rope to guide it, I swished it around slowly until I felt it connect with my slipper. I tipped, and lifted at the same time, the bucket feeling heavier. I grinned, proud at having ensnared it on my first attempt. I pulled the bucket up, the rough rope scraping against my fingers and leaving angry red marks as it went. Finally I could see the bucket again, and hurriedly, I hauled it the rest of the way up, and set it against the ledge of the well. I reached in, feeling the squish of my slipper as I grasped it, pulling it out. I screamed and recoiled, a dim blue eyeball in my hand. It tumbled to the ground, and I blacked out.

When I awoke I was lying in a hospital, and my memories were foggy. My mom stood over me, looking more angry than concerned. I realized I had been changed into a hospital gown, and that my ankle was wrapped as well as elevated.

“Honey, I was so worried! What were you doing out there?” She cooed, the anger melting slightly.

“I… I don’t remember,” I whispered, trying to recall the memories. Nothing would come to surface however, and I was just left feeling muddled and confused. The white walls surrounded me, and I realized I was in a singular room, and I was the only patient. A pale blue curtain was pushed away from the windows, allowing the bright sun to filter in. That’s when the flashes became memories, developing like an old photograph.

I cringed, remembering the eyeball.

“I was at the wishing well…”

My mother nodded, as if this was the answer she expected.

“What were you doing there?” She replied, her dark green eyes narrowing slightly. My mother had wrinkles, but they were the kind that made her looked distinguished and knowledgeable.

“I couldn’t sleep. I was just exploring,” I relented, not even sure myself how I had ended up at that miserable well.

She folded her hands in her lap, seeming to be considering her next question carefully.

“Did you find anything in the well?”

“Well… I had dropped my slipper in there on accident…” I smiled, trying to play innocent, but she just glared, and I knew she could read me.

I sighed. “Well, when I tried to get it out… I got something else..”

“An eyeball?” She said knowingly, and I wondered how she did that.

“When we found you passed out, they did a thorough investigation of the well, and they found a few bones.”

Her hand found its way to my long hair, smoothing and petting it. Whereas this was normally a comforting gesture, my mind just imagined clawed hands reaching out, entangling themselves in my chocolate locks, and dragging me down into the well. I shivered absentmindedly, the thoughts clearing.

“I know it’s something you shouldn’t think about, but I know you will.”

I nodded quietly, my bottom lip trembling slightly.

“It’s so rotted, that they aren’t completely sure what happened. There going to try there best though honey, don’t worry.” She smiled falsely.

We both knew it wasn’t true.

The next day I was at the lake, sitting in the damp sand. This was our version of a beach, but instead of inflated beach balls and laughing children, it was full of muck and entangling weeds. I was a fish out of water, or at least, that’s what everyone called me. I sat back on my heels, bringing my knees up to my chest. I watched the calm ripples of the water, making me think of the murky water in the well. A sea gull dipped low, just barely hitting the water with its wing, causing a spray of mist to shoot up and hit me in the face. I giggled, and peeled off the clothes I had on over my suit, discarding them in the filthy sand. I clasped my hands together, and did a short dive, breaking the surface of the cold water. It felt like I was surrounded in a thin sheet of ice, slicing through it like a fish. I kicked my feet, propelling myself forward. I kept my eyes closed, seeing nothing but dark. My hands were stretched out in front of me, occasionally feeling the scrape of gravel, or the soft silky weed. I could just barely sense the subtle movements of fish swimming all around me, almost like a school, me at the head. I smiled, the water rushing between my teeth, and I coughed, kicking up to the surface where I inhaled deeply, the air stinging my glistening skin. I realized that I had swum farther out then I had intended, and I could see the other side of the lake, all pine trees. I turned around and saw someone standing on the shore, watching me. At first I thought it may be my mother, or maybe my father, so I began to swim forward in large strides, swinging my arms outward, occasionally dipping under the water, surrounded by cool and quiet. As I reached the shore I surfaced, and immediately realized it was not one of my parents. This guy looked about a year or two older than me, and he was all muscles and broad shoulders. He had a scruffy goatee, and I scrunched up my nose at the stranger, my wet hair plastered to my face.

“Hello,” he said, as if we were friends.

“Uhm… Do I know you?” Maybe I knew him from school, and he’d heard about the well.

“No,” he answered, befuddling me. I grunted and climbed out of the water, picking up the towel I had brought with me. I began to wick off the droplets of water before putting back on my baggy bathing suit clothes, placing the towel upon my shoulders.

“What do you want, then?” I sighed again, my green eyes meeting his hazel.

“I heard about the well.”

I nodded, and thought to myself, ah, so it was about the well.

“Ah, yeah pretty freaky, huh?” I commented, wanting to get home because the wind was picking up and I was cold.

“My theory is even freakier.” He raised an eyebrow, hoping to bait me into staying.

I shrugged, not really caring what this whacko thought. I turned and began to walk home, my sandals smacking against the soft grass. I could hear him following me, and I rolled my eyes, calling back to him.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

“I want you to listen to me,” he called.

“Why do you care so much?” As I replied, I picked up my pace, beginning to jog home. I could see my house in the distance, and no longer could hear him behind me. I shook off my feeling of curiosity, knowing that the man was probably just crazy. I walked in and found my mother pacing, the noise of the door closing causing her to look over at me, and stopping in her tracks.

“Where were you?” she questioned, her tone worried and frightened. I sighed, feeling oppressed and resigned.

“Swimming,” I replied sarcastically, wet towel still around my shoulders.

She just sighed, wandering off, and I shrugged, heading upstairs to do my homework.

After I finished, I laid down and tried to get some rest, but the strangers words kept bothering me. I began to wish that I had let him tell me, even if it was just crazy ramblings. I set it in my mind to try and find him tomorrow; knowing I probably wouldn’t, but I thought I’d try anyway. Sleep still didn’t come, just fitful nightmares about plunging into deep water, never finding a bottom to kick off of, just eternal black and bliss.

I awoke with a start.

I groaned and threw on some clothes, plodding downstairs and heading outside. There was a man in a back cloak waiting.

“I’m here to tell you something.”

I guess I got lucky.

“The well is eating people.” He stated, ex
pression unreadable.

“What? You’re kidding right? Wells don’t eat people, people eat people…wait no that’s not how the saying goes…” I commented, my mind reeling.

“Believe what you wish, but its true,” he finished, walking away, and I began to follow him.

“What do you mean? At least explain yourself,” I shouted, and he stopped, not turning but still talking.

“People are lured there. And then they fall,” he said mysteriously. The word fall was said sarcastically, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“How do you know people aren’t being murdered? Being pushed down?” I argued, his notion silly.

“Then explain why they never find a body, just bones.” He grinned and walked off. I realized he was heading towards the well, and I followed, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Why are you going to the well?” I questioned, seeing as he apparently thought it dangerous.

“There is something you need to see,” He shrugged, seemingly not caring if I continued to follow or not. I did, only because I wanted to try to understand what he was telling me. As we got closer, I could smell something dank and dark, almost rotting. He ushered me closer, my apprehension and fear growing. We both leaned over, and all I saw was crimson red water and bleached white bones. A gaping skull bobbed and stared up at us, and I retched, the contents of my stomach spilling onto the grass next to us.

“That’s what happened to the guy who tried to warn you before,” he grimaced, before turning and leaving me hunched over on the ground.

This time when I went to sleep, I had dreams of the ocean.

I was standing on a beach, a real one with white sand and palms. However, this beach was not full of inflated toys and screaming children.

I was alone.

The waves were dark and roiling, frothy foam and loud crashes. They slapped the beach abusively, and I stood just at the lip of the tide, the waves licking against my bare toes, sand squishing beneath me. The waves whispered secrets in my ears, a thousand voices chiming together in one collective harmony, enticing me ever closer to the cold waves. I was up to my knees now, my sea green eyes scanning the vast ocean, nothing but brilliant salty water. My mind caused my feet to hesitate, sensing danger. However I forced myself to press onward. I was up to my nose when I woke up gasping for breath.

I couldn’t concentrate on school all day. My mind kept repeating my nightmare, forcing me to relive it over and over, even though it was daylight. I eventually found myself back at the well, hands skimming against the brick structure, the sound of the waves crashing in my ear drums. I peered down into the opening, balancing on the tips of my toes like a ballerina. I didn’t see murky water, or bleached bones this time; I saw bright ocean waves, and a single ship, as white as a cloud, bobbing calmly in the water. I smiled, and tried to reach down to grab it, my arm not long enough to reach down the hole. I tried to lean in closer, my fingers just brushing the tall white mast, feeling the rough canvas beneath my finger tips. It smelled of hope, and dreams and possibilities. I grasped at it, and felt myself fall, spiraling downward, the cold water breaking my fall, but so tall, so very tall. I could not find any bottom to kick off of, no way to escape. My fingers clawed at the bricks, no hand holds to be found just scrapes and new bruises blooming on my skin. The water pulled me under, replacing the oxygen in my lungs in large gulps, the salt stinging my eyes. The last thing I saw was a white ship sailing just in front of my vision, and this is when I knew that my one and only wish had been granted.

I was free, but I was dead.

Within

I could tell that the beast was gaining on me, the smack of his hooves against the thick gravel reverberating throughout my eardrums. His breath was coming out in hot snorts that tickled the hairs on the back of my neck. My legs felt like jell-o beneath me, but I knew that if I stopped, I would be dead. I could faintly hear a horse drawn carriage approaching us from behind, and I felt a small glimmer of hope in my chest, but this all came down to timing. The air became honey, sticky and slow. My long strides felt like a toddlers footsteps. Soon enough I could see the tarp of the cart, and hear the snorts and whinnies of the horses, which sounded like the buzzing of a bee compared to the beasts’ noises behind me.

I could feel my brain attempting to shut down my movement, the exhaustion beginning to take its toll. The horses were now parallel to where I currently was, the air was no longer thick, and as the cart barreled past me, I leapt with every last ounce of reserve strength I had stored. My fingers brushed against the back of the cart that was stuffed with furniture and food. I held on for dear life, the rest of my body shaking like a flag on a windy day.

I heaved forward slowly; using the thick floor to inch ever so forward until just below my knees was left unsecured. The beast had picked up his speed exponentially, and his nostrils bumped up against my sneaker. I kicked as hard as I could, feeling my heel connect with the bridge of his nose. He lost most of his speed with his pain. And I was able pull myself the rest of the way into the cart, my muscles screaming with pain and exhaustion. The beast had stopped completely, and when I looked back at him, his deep red eyes bore into my soul.

I stayed in the caravan until the owner had pulled off to re-secure his furniture. He tossed me out with a string of curses and a deep purple bruise on my arm. I looked around warily, praying there would be no beasts here. Most of the time they were small and they didn’t bother me nearly as much, but then sometimes there would be ones like the one I had just encountered, big, menacing and brutal. I could still recall every detail of it, the thick plated skull, and the saber fangs. The thick legs, six in total that ended in pointed hooves. The small wings incapable of flight, but ended in sharp hooks that had left several red lines on my back. I shivered at the thought of it, but the daylight was reassuring, and there weren’t any monsters around. I raked a shaking hand through my hair, which was still damp with sweat and grease. I felt absolutely disgusting, and needed a shower. A small tabby cat was weaving around the road the angry farmer had thrown me onto, and I called it over with a click of my tongue. It purred loudly and wandered over, its tail quivering in the breeze. He butted his soft head against my palm, and immediately all my stress ebbed and drifted away, forgotten and moved to some other time.

“Hey kitty,” I smiled. Animals always had a way of making me feel better than any person ever could.

“Hello,” he responded, deep voice matching his thick purr. It startled me, but not too bad because I was used to the abnormal.

“Would you like to keep me company?” I asked, trying to be polite. I really could use a partner, and why not a cat? Cats weren’t loyal like dogs, but they were independent and smart. A cat could come in handy. The cat shrugged, a gesture that would’ve made any normal person laugh, but I had always been able to see things other couldn’t. I was different too.

Two little angelic wings lifted up from the cats back, and I wondered how I hadn’t noticed the thick feathers earlier. With a couple of strong flaps, he lifted up and landed on my shoulder, surprisingly lighter then I had expected. His soft fur bristled against my neck, warning me that he was sensing something.

“What is it boy?” I cooed in a baby voice.

“There is no way I am tolerating the cutesy-wootsy baby talk. And my name is Xavier.”

“Well excuse me,” I laughed, looking around for any signs of the Nightmares. That was my nickname for them, even though they had no sense of time. The only thing I could see was a thin black squirrel weaving between cars on the road. I silently cheered him on, not wanting him to get squashed. He scurried in front of us, and I applauded as the cat just rolled his eyes and licked his jaws. The squirrel twitched his whiskers and turned his head up at me, allowing me to get a look into his eyes.

They were red.

“Ah *censored*,” I muttered. The cat let out a yowl, but didn’t move from my shoulder, so I bolted, looking back occasionally to see the squirrel still sitting there curiously. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I slowed and stopped, about a good twenty feet from the creature, and we stared each other down. As I watched he grew. His features changed, until he was a ten foot bear standing on his hind legs, waving his thick claws as he slashed at the empty air. He landed back on the asphalt with a grunt, his huge black nose twitching.

“I just want to talk to you,” the bear informed, but I could still feel Xavier hissing in my ear, a warning not to trust the beast. When I squinted my eyes I could see extra eyes, appendages and even a sword across the bears back. I shivered, realizing that whoever this was, he was a warrior. I didn’t see them often, for they were scarce these days, but when one did show you knew.

“Fine but you stay there,” I commanded, as I waved my hand in his direction. He seemed amused, knowing that one lunge could snap me in half.

“Alright, we discuss like this then.”

“Well, what do you want?” I impatiently asked.

“I need your help.”

“Me? What can I do? I’m just a kid who is constantly haunted by the things like you,” I accused, not being cautious. I knew I should be respectful but I just couldn’t understand what use I would be. Maybe he wanted a snack.

“The beasts are becoming numerous. They are invading the dreams of children, and some have been possessing people. So far, you are the only person we can find that can see us. Not all of the beasts know this, and so we would have an advantage with you on our side.”

“But what do you need me for exactly?” I repeated, patience thinning.

“Help us in the war.”

I was stunned. Xavier had ceased his incessant hissing, and he too was mute. I looked at him and he turned his face to mine, and it almost felt like we made a silent agreement. I smiled at the cat, and turned back to the bear, who was watching us both warily.

“Alright, I’ll do what you want.”

At this, the bear grinned with sharp fangs and drool. I shivered again, his magnificence terrifying and intense. He turned his great big head towards the road, his neck muscles stretching.

“Get on.”

I looked to Xavier again, who seemed against the idea of riding upon a warrior bear, but seeing as it was ride, or more then likely get eaten, I decided to get on the massive bears back. I looped my arms around his neck, which in comparison looked like pale noodles. Easily torn apart and destroyed.

“And if I die in this fight?” I hiccupped, my fear and paranoia starting to build.

“Then either you become one of us, or you’re dead,” he answered simply, as if it was common knowledge. I didn’t answer; I felt like I had swallowed a ball of cotton my throat was so tight and dry. I thought of the family I had left behind at the age of eight, always knowing I was more of a burden then a son. Tears burned in my eyes, and I blinked them away, hoping neither animal would notice. After a few moments the immense bear muttered a few words under his breath, and we were teleported right into the middle of a thick battle, shapes littering the ground. I rolled off the bear and off to the side, trying to gather my wits. The bear lead me to a weapons rack, where I picked up a thick sword to match his. It felt heavy in my grasp, but I had wielded a sword before. As we dove in, I managed to avoid most of the beasts; in fact most of them didn’t even notice my presence, which surprised me because usually they were drawn to me. I sliced a Pegasus in half, and looped back around to kill a bear that resembled the warrior, except this one hadn’t bothered hiding his true nature. He was even bigger in fact, with huge spikes along his back and he was breathing fire. When he went to open his mouth I plunged my sword in and felt it connect with his throat. He gagged and stood for a moment before falling and collapsing in a pool of purple blood. I grinned as the adrenaline pumped through my body, the sword whispering sweet words of power into my mind. Xavier still perched on my shoulder, but every now and then he would disappear or leap off to go kill a small beast on his own, claws and fangs bared. I rolled and continued to take down small-ish monsters, leaving the bigger ones for the fierce warriors who could handle the battle. It felt like we had been fighting for hours, and my adrenaline was dwindling down, causing my arms to feel like brick and my steps to be slowed. I got to a small clearing that seemed abandoned and sat down catching my breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something approach. With a groan I stood back up, wielding my sword and preparing for a fight. It was the beast that had been chasing me earlier, the one with the six legs and the jagged hoofs. He snorted and tossed his huge skeletal head prancing as if inviting me to the challenge. I knew that with the little amount of strength I had left, I wasn’t going to make it. He looked at me as if he knew this, his red eyes gazing deep into me. I knew that he knew every secret I had ever kept, he knew me in my entirety. Just like I knew him.

“So we meet again old boy.” I commented, as if we were two men meeting at a bar on a sunny afternoon. He just stared, but as he moved towards me I braced myself, not willing to go without a fight. He charged head down and horns pointed straight towards my throat. His stubby wings were arched and they danced in the wind as he picked up speed. I held my sword in a defensive blocking position, but he was too fast, and too strong. He knocked me over and I sailed high up above the ground with the wind knocked out of me. As my back connected with the thick dirt beneath me, I knew it was over. My vision began to cloud black, and the last thing I saw was him, his head over me, eyes glowing and teeth bared.

When I awoke, I ached all over and my head was swimming. I could hear voices, buzzing faintly in my ear, and that’s when I thought I was in heaven. But when I opened my eyes everything I saw was blue, blue tiles, blue floor, and blue sheets. There was so much blue that it hurt to look, so I closed my eyes. I heard someone open the door to wherever I was, combined with the shuffling of several pairs of feet. I heard more muttering, but all I was able to make out was;

“….suicidal…visions…schizophrenia…”

These words had no meaning to me, and they swam in my head making me feel more confused than before. I reopened my eyes to see a woman’s face hovering over me. She gasped, and I recoiled further into the bed I was in.

“Doctor!” she wailed, “He’s awake!”

I heard the doctor walk over, and soon enough he entered my line of sight. He was old, and looked wary as well as confused.

“But he arrived dead. We were sure he wasn’t going to make it,” he lamented, making me feel a bit offended.

“It’s a miracle!” The woman sobbed, her tears falling onto my face. I had absolutely no idea who she was, but she obviously cared about me a lot, something I had never experienced before. It made me feel guilty for the pain she was obviously feeling.

“You’ll have to go away for a while, but when you come home there’s going to be such a big party,” she informed through her thick sobs, her arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace. The doctor pulled her away lightly, thankfully because my ribs hurt like hell and she was suffocating me.

“His memory appears faulty, and he still has a lot of issues Mrs. Bixby. As I mentioned before, your child is a schizophrenic. When we found him in the river and heard his mutterings, we knew almost instantly. He tried to commit suicide.”

“I know but-“

“But nothing Mrs. Bixby. He has to go to a center; otherwise he’ll never get better.”

I could feel panic beginning to well up in my chest, burning and infesting. What did they mean? Child? I hadn’t seen my parents in ages. I didn’t know what a schizophrenic was, but I did know that I hadn’t tried to kill myself; I was killed by a nightmare. Surely these were just people who weren’t gifted with the sight, as I was. They thought I was crazy just like everyone else.

“I’m not crazy.” I added, shocking them both. Apparently they hadn’t expected me to speak up, and they both realized that they were talking as if I wasn’t in the room. The doctor immediately changed his attitude, going from informal and strict, to fatherly and kind.

“Yes, we know that. We just don’t want something like this to happen again,” he smiled. Strangely, this side of the doctor frightened me more than the last.

“We’ll have you tested to be absolutely sure, when you’re feeling up to it that is. You only suffered minor injuries thankfully we found you soon enough. You will be able to go home for a week, and then you will be placed in a center, providing that our guess is correct. Would you be willing to take the test now?”

I nodded, knowing that the faster I got this over with the faster I could go home. I forgot to ask what a schizophrenic was, but I figured that my tester would tell me. When I arrived in the small room, there was one big overstuffed couch, and a folded chair across from it, with a notebook and a pen sitting on it. Eventually a woman entered, and she removed the two objects from the chair, sitting down and turning to face me. She opened the notebook and began to twirl the pen in her hand absentmindedly, something I used to do in elementary school.

“Do you know why you’re here?” She asked, seeming genuinely interested. All of this attention and care was starting to make me feel off, after having been alone for almost ten years.

“I’m crazy,” I smiled, playing along. I just had to give these people what they wanted, and I knew they’d let me go. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before.

“You’re not crazy,” she smiled, “Just… different,” she said cautiously, almost as if she were trying to avoid offending me. I just shrugged.

“So what’s the test?” I asked.

“Just an evaluation to see if there’s anything abnormal about your brain.”

“What’s does schizophrenic mean?” I finally asked, my curiosity getting to me. She seemed pleased in my interest, jotting something down in her little notebook.

“Well, it’s a mental disorder. It’s when a person sees, and hears things that no one else can. It’s pretty common that most people don’t show any symptoms until their teen or adult years. You’ve been exhibiting all the symptoms, and that’s why you’re here, in my office,” she finished, taking in a breath. I just stared blankly at her and let her continue. After the test she handed me a slip of paper to give to my doctor. I didn’t bother to read it, because I knew it wasn’t any of my business. After everything had been settled, I got into the mini-van, with the woman who claimed to be my mother. She drove me to what was supposedly my home. She kept going on and on about how much she was going to miss me, and how it really was for the best, because they didn’t want me offing myself. I honestly could say that to this day, I still have no recollection of diving into that river they found me in. All I remember is the brilliant war horse and the bear interlocked in a never ending battle. When I got home and was presented my room which had been unscathed in my absence, there was a lump under the blankets. Curiously I walked over and heard a purr. Underneath the blanket I found an old tabby cat that blinked up at me sleepily. He greeted me with a meow, which jarred something within me, something that felt so painstakingly real and familiar, that I began to sob.

Into the Alleyways

Part 1

Same routine, same day. Wake up, brush, rinse, repeat. Comb hair, grimace at my reflection.

I would give up anything to get away from it all.

My heavy footsteps pounded against the creaky stairs, worn with years of myself trotting down them; everyday. I casually flicked my short red hair out of my face, clearing my vision as my eyes darted lazily around our living room. Worn out chairs, torn loveseat. I heaved a heavy sigh, which was responded to by a clucking sound that emanated from the kitchen. I headed towards the sound, and found my mother standing there, here hands balanced on her wide hips, which were currently covered by an apron that could easily be mistaken for a blanket. Her wrinkles were set in a scowl, and her pudgy fingers were all smeared with flour. Her graying ebony hair was pulled up behind her in a tight pony tail, a few strands falling down into her sweaty face.

“Malcolm.” She said quietly, with an echo of authority.

I sighed, wondering what I could have possible done wrong this time.

“I know your fathers not around no more, but that doesn’t mean that ya’ll can slack off on your chores.” She drawled, pudgy hand swinging from her hips to point angrily towards the filthy kitchen sink, piled high with dishes. He figured that by ‘ya’ll’ she meant him and his brother. He rolled his eyes, and mocked her position, one hand on his hips, and the other pointed towards the sink.

“Why don’t you get off your fat ass and do it yourself?” He smirked, as her eyes lit up in rage.

“I have had enough of your attitude! If you ain’t gon’ respect me and my values, then you can get!” She screamed, face as bright as a freshly polished tomato.

Maybe I will, he thought to himself, letting his hands drop to his sides. He flashed her his cheesiest smile, and walked away, heading for the door.

“You best be back in time for your chores! Or else, you gunna get it!” He heard her yell as he slammed the front door of the house, shoving his hands into his dark navy jeans. The weather outside was bright and sunny, a mockery of his mood. A mother dragged her kid down the side walk, as he pointed and screamed towards the sky. Curious, I looked up, to see a shiny red balloon leaving the atmosphere. I wondered where he got it.

As I continued walking down the sidewalk, I let my feet lead me wherever they wanted to go. Soon, I found myself at the local drug store. Shrugging, I walked in, and got a can of pop, opening it with a spray of fizz that misted over my nose and caused me to sneeze. I gulped some of it down, allowing the carbonation to burn the back of my throat.

Mmm, sugar.

I didn’t want to go home yet, because when I checked my watch, it was only 2:30. Not nearly enough time away from her yet. I continued wandering around our small town, until I smelled something… different. It wasn’t the normal smell of the town, which was flowery and damp at the same time. No… this smelled fantastic, almost magical. I tried to distinguish a specific scent, and the most prominent smell was that of caramel, with a hint of cinnamon. I headed towards it, a fuzziness in my head. In the distance I saw it; Huge bright tents, not in your stereotypical red and white. These were a rainbow of colors, each tent its own shade, arranged all the way from the brightest red to the deepest purple. They seemed to be endless, arranged in layers of slightly differentiating shades. I walked up to the ticket booth, a woman whose face was painted a perfect white, her eyes exaggerated and her smile painted. She handed me a ticket in exchange for my money, and I walked in, letting the brightness of the colors wash over me. I felt something inside me I had never felt before.

Joy.

I walked around; ignoring the signs that detailed what was in each tent. I entered randomly, allowing my feet to choose my experience. The first tent I entered was brilliant green on the outside, but as soon as I entered it was completely dark. A winding pathway was lit by floating lanterns, and I followed it, twists and weaves leaving a map in my memory so I could find my way out again. Tree branches seeming to grow from within the tent itself surrounded me, occasionally scraping against my arm. Autumn leaves crunched beneath my feet, even though outside it was summer. The dirt path stopped, leaving me alone in a large circle, but very slowly something began to form in front of me. Soon I realized it was a projection of a Chinese dragon, all jaws and taunt muscles. He was curled on the ground in front of me, so life-like that I could almost hear the breathing, and feel the heat he emanated from his core. He had yellow scales that glinted in the lights from the lanterns, and his claws were huge and intimidating. I reached my hand out towards him, but he growled, and I figured there must be someone watching, and controlling it, not wanting me to touch it because it was clearly just an image. I shrugged, letting my hand fall. The great beast, swirled upwards until he was standing on his haunches, his great length twisted and turned this way and that so that he fit in the cramped space of the tent. He slowly lowered his face to mine, his muzzle only an inch from my mouth, and I swear I felt hot breath hitting my face.

Whoever ran this circus, sure knew how to do it right.

“I am Shanyu, and I am a fortune telling dragon. Nothing I say is set in stone, and everything has more than one meaning.” He intoned with a deep voice that seemed to fill the whole tent, surrounding me and filling my ears.

“Go ahead then buddy.” I smiled, my teeth feeling like toothpicks compared to the thick fangs only inches from my face.

The dragon didn’t flinch at my words, just growled a little bit.

"A path, one that does not lead you home,

A statue, that stands like a tomb,

A mother with a broken womb."

The last sentence caused a shudder to roll through the dragon, its eyes closing and then reopening. I mulled it over in my head, trying to find any sort of meaning. I opened my mouth to ask a question, but I blinked and the dragon was gone. I groaned under my breath.

Great.

I left the tent via a back flap that I found only because of the small sliver of light that was shining through a parting in the pieces of fabric. The bright sunlight was temporarily blinding, and I brought my hand to my face in a small attempt to defend my eyes. It helped a little, and my vision soon cleared, allowing me to scan around for any projector screens. If there were any they were pretty well hidden. However, I wasn't easily swayed, so I decided to find some of the circus members. I wandered around until I bumped into someone who was painted similarly to the woman in the ticket booth, except their eye make up was all rainbows.

"Excuse me, but may I ask you a question?" I asked.

"Yes?" The man intoned, surprising me a little, because I had thought that it was another woman.

"How did you do the fortune telling dragon projection? It was almost life-like. I complimented, causing a real smile to light up the mans face.

"Ah well, a magician never reveals his secrets." He said with a little bow as he continued his walk down the alleyway. I didn't notice he had an accent until after he had left.

Odd.

I decided to continue my exploration, and soon entered another tent, this one an almost burgundy color on the outside. I was met with bright overhead lights, similar to ones you would see at a football game. I even smelled popcorn and hotdogs, my stomach growling. This tent was full of viewers like me, all sitting in seats like a stadium. I took a seat of my own, separate from the endless whisperings of the crowd around me. We were all facing a large, but currently empty circle. As we waited, I began to hear a low growling sound, before two blindingly white tigers were released into the ring. They were albino, and their stripes looked like they had been bleached, and their milky pink eyes were trained on each other, as they continued to circle each other around the ring, muscles stretching as their paces began to slowly increase, until they were both running around the ring, eyes only on each other. I watched, nearly on the edge of my seat, waiting for them to collide or something. An explosion of fog in the center caused everyone to jump a little, and I heard a few nervous giggles. Suddenly there was a woman stood there, dressed in a sharp suit that seemed to shift colors almost like oils in the different colors and hues of the lights. The two tigers were a blur around her, and she seemed unafraid, but some mothers were covering their children’s eyes, who were trying their best to get a glimpse of what was going on, almost close enough to touch. I kept my eyes wide open, afraid to bl
ink and miss something important. I could feel my heart thudding against my chest, and with how quiet everyone was, it sounded like a loud drum in my ears. The lady pulled out a long whip, which had two tails that ended in what almost resembled a gaping snakes head. When they started to move of their own accord, I realized they actually were snakes, dark green, the other half of them stuffed into the base of the staff. She whipped it high up into the air, her arm taut as the two snake heads were parallel to the ceiling, their jaws gaping and spitting saliva. Then with a simple flick of her wrist the twin heads stretched out, possibly unwinding from the base of the staff because it seemed as if their length doubled. Each snake wrapped around an individual tiger, snaring them by the neck and bringing them to the ground. Both tigers roared defiantly, struggling against the hold, paws flailing and claws gleaming in the bright light.

Awesome.

The tigers eventually stopped thrashing, until they were just laying there, no noise in the entire stadium save for the low hiss of the snakes, which were unwinding from the tiger’s thick necks. The tigers remained still, almost impressively so. I could still see the rise and fall of there massive stomachs, the only movement noticeable. I began to wonder just how much training something this massive took. The woman stood with one hand freed and waving towards the crowd. As we began to clap and cheer in an uproar, another explosion of fog that seemed to be imbued with tiny sparkling diamonds, because they shimmered and danced in the lights, almost like tiny fairies. After the arena cleared it was completely empty, even the immobile tigers. As I exited the tent, it was suddenly dark outside, the only light from a small sliver of moon, and a few antique street lights that stood in front of some tents, barely illuminating the pathway. I knew my mother would kill me if I didn’t get home soon.

As I walked out the gates and back into the real world, I knew I would go back to that circus.

What I didn’t know, was that I wouldn’t be going as a visitor this time.

Part 2

I had finally arrived back at the door of what was supposed to be my home. The screen door loomed in front of me, and I pressed my forehead against it, not wanting to go back inside. The walk home had been longer then I had thought, and it was all dark now, with small twinkling stars scattered across the sky. My bright hair hung in my face, and I frowned, the fortune I was given echoing faintly in my head.

A path, one that does not lead you home

A statue, that stands like a tomb.

A mother with a broken womb

That last sentence really irritated me, and the rest just confused me. I knew that if I stood any longer outside my mother would probably call the cops or try to go out and look for me. I grasped the cold metal door hand in my sweating hands, clicking the latch and pulling open the door nervously as I stepped into the unwelcoming home. I entered the living room, which was covered in miscellaneous clothes, more then likely all dirty. The TV was on, the sound muted, silent actors dancing across the screen. I then walked into the kitchen where I had heard water running, and my heart skipped a beat as I crossed the threshold between carpet and tile.

It wasn’t my mother, just my brother Tyler, who was washing the dishes, lank brown hair matted to his face, and hunched over a sink full of suds. He heard me as I walked in, and turned to face me, wearing bright yellow gloves that looked absolutely ridiculous.

“Oh man you’re in so much trouble dude.” He said, with a shake of his head. He was about a foot or two taller than me, so I had to look up when I talked to him, if I wanted to look him in his deep brown eyes. I just shrugged, and he let out a deep laugh as he turned back to the dishes, stacking the clean ones haphazardly into the drying rack, threatening to fall and tumble to the floor. I sighed and began to pick them up, wiping them off lazily, and putting them where they belonged, not caring if a few lingering suds remained. We worked mainly in silence, until the muted sound of footsteps began to head towards the kitchen. My heart picked up right where it had left off earlier, the pulse in my throat jumping. I continued to put the dishes away, cleaning them in earnest now.

All 256 lumpy pounds of my mother waddled into the kitchen, her eyes emotionless a gray. She watched as I tried to ignore her, my hands shaking as I almost dropped a dish before it reached the cupboard.

“When y’all are done, I need’ta see ya both in the livin’ room.” She whispered.

The fact that she had whispered spoke volumes of its own, yelling would have been more of a comfort. I sighed, my pace slowing drastically as I dreaded what ever was coming when I was done with these dishes. I heard the sucking sound of our drain, and looked over to my brother, as we both watched the liquid soap swirl down like a tornado. One plate stood by its lonesome in the drying rack.

“Sorry dude, last dish.” He spoke quietly, almost so quiet that I didn’t hear him.

I picked it up, dragging my rag over it with great delicacy, at the pace of a tortoise. Finally I was forced to put it away, the dish dry and spotless. I sighed, and began to drag my feet towards the living room, my brother following at my heels. We both plopped down onto the couch, causing it to shake with our combined weight.

My mother was already seated in the easy chair, which was now scooted to face the couch. She was leaning forward, her arms crossed on top of her knees. Her brow was furrowed, and her black hair now hung loose, cascading over her shoulders and falling around her arms.

“Where were you?” She said, directed towards me.

I shrugged a bad attempt to act nonchalant.

“Don’t you give me that shrugging nonsense. I want to know where the hell you were!” She scolded, her voice raising an octave.

I closed my eyes, allowing the memories to swim in front of me, before reopening them.

“I was just walking around, trying to cool off y’know? I just lost track of time.” I relented, hoping she would take the half truth.

“You have to tell me when you go out, and where you are. I was worried Malcolm.” She sighed, sounding generally concerned for once in my life.

I wondered if she was drunk.

“Alright mom. I will next time. I promise.” I averted her gaze, my hands tightening, my knuckles losing their color.

“You better.” She finished, standing up and ending any argument that happened to tumble from my loose lips. She stalked out of the living room, and headed upstairs. We both remained completely silent until her foot steps disappeared, and were replaced by a creak as she laid in her bed.

“Man that was brutal.” Tyler announced as he also stood, flipping his long hair out his eyes. They were as brown as his hair, and this wasn’t the first time that I noticed that I looked nothing like our mother.

Perhaps I had my father’s genes.

Tyler also left, but he headed back into the kitchen, and I could here him rummaging through the cupboards, reminding me I hadn’t eaten and I was starved. I followed him and joined in the search, both of us settling for a PB&J sandwich.

At least we had something in common.

The next morning when I awoke, I was filled with nothing save for a burning desire to visit the circus again. I always slept naked, so I just threw on some clothes, finishing off my ensemble with a Muse t-shirt, my favorite band.

I practically flew downstairs, finding my mother spread out on the couch with a woolen blanket draped over her. The TV was turned to the news, sportscasters chattering about this team and that.

“Mom?” I said quietly, not sure if she was asleep or not.

She looked up at me, eyes blinking blearily at me.

“Is it cool if I go to my friend Matt’s house today?” I bluffed, knowing she would say yes. Matt and I had been friends since childhood.

She nodded vaguely, but I knew she was hung-over, so I set a reminder in my mind to send her a text later.

I headed outside, the day warm but cloudy, and I prayed it wouldn’t rain. I practically jogged until I was back at the circus, being pushed forward into a throng of people just waiting to get inside. I held my ticket money in my hand eagerly, the same woman standing inside the box as last time.

Or at least, it looked a lot like her.

We exchanged just like last time, and I now held a swirling orange ticket in my hand, the patterns shifting in the light. It was different from yesterdays, which had been red.

Interesting.

I ambled around for a bit, buying a small chocolate treat, which tasted amazing and oozed some kind of cream down my chin.

After exploring the alleyways of the circus, which I knew were always where the games and vendors were kept, I decided to return to the maze of tents. I was in a purple mood today, and the one I entered was a deep, almost black purple, and it was lazed with tiny beads that made it sparkle like the night sky. I parted the flaps and walked in, immediately surround by an ocean of smells. Suddenly a cacophony filled the room, causing my hands to press against my ear drums, the echo of a gong leaving my head reeling. The space was filled with large red plants that almost seemed to glow and hum along with the noise of the gong, the sound causing my blood to pump faster through my veins. The room smelled of wet, earth, and damp. A young girl was peeling the humongous leaves of the plants, kneeling on the ground and surrounded by curling strips of red, her face, arms, and hands covered in smeared dirt. She looked up at me, and I noticed she was wearing bifocals, and I began to grow extremely curious.

“What are you here for?” She smiled, twirling a plant shaving around her finger.

I tried to look at what she was attempting to reap from the insides of the plant leaves, but I was unable to see it from where I stood.

“Is it this?” She questioned, lowing her gaze back to the fauna in her lap. Her fingers worked fast, and soon she held a smooth oval in her hand.

“It’s a seed.” She stated, a small grin appearing on her chubby red cheeks. She held it in her palm, reaching towards me as if offering it to me. I took it gingerly, feeling it against my skin. It was warm and smooth, with tiny little ridges engraved upon the surface. I looked closer and noticed the beginnings of some sort of lettering that looked more like hieroglyphics then the English alphabet. She took off her glasses and handed them to me, and although they were small, the glass was large enough for my eye, and I held the seed close to my face, trying to decipher anything legible.

“You better read fast, the languages cycle pretty fast.” She giggled, leaving me confused until the letters on the seed began to shift and cycle, swirling from something that looked like German, melting into French, then Spanish. Eventually, after Russian, it was English, and I tried to read as fast as I could.

“Supposedly the first three words you can read are supposed to describe you in some way. Your past, your present, your future. Your emotions, your dreams your desires. No one knows what for sure yet.”

The words I saw chilled me to the bone.

I quickly left the tent, leaving the seed and the cackling girl behind me. The glasses were broken on the floor, and I practically ripped the entrance of the tent apart, my eyes watering slightly.

This was not possible.

I ran, until I stood in the center of the circus, somewhere I hadn’t seen before. Various free-lancing acts stood upon pedestals, boxes or what have you, showcasing their talents and specialties. Full benches stood, and crowds gathered, becoming so overwhelming that I began to feel claustrophobic. The masses of heat and bodies all piled against one another began to feel like an ocean of discomfort. I quickly tried to push my way through, the crowd, the throngs like an impenetrable wall of noise and sweat. I finally broke through, my feet carrying me towards the exit, my elbows distancing any passerby that tried to get too close.

I needed some space.

I quickly left the circus, the hot air washing over me and making my nausea and vertigo worse, my head spinning. I headed to the park plopping down on the wooden bench, and holding my head in my hands.

I had to think about this.

I rocked back and forth on the bench, not caring if I was drawing attention to myself or not. I felt the first few hot pinpricks of water beginning to drip from the corners of my eyes, and I held back a sniffle, trying to bite my lip and hold back the tears. I few escaped and slid my down my cheeks.

This was not okay.

I knew I should head home, take a cool shower and think, but my legs didn’t want to work properly. I did eventually work up the strength, standing on my wobbly Jell-O legs. I headed home, with a heavy heart, and heavy feet.

Part 3

My head felt heavy as I awoke, my bedroom seeming only 4ft by 4ft, the space closing in on me. I threw off my blankets coated in sweat, throwing on a pair of jeans, grabbing a shirt and walking down stairs shirtless. Our only bathroom was down stairs and I claimed it, up before everyone else for once. The jeans fell back to the floor, and I climbed in, the cold water snapping me back to reality. I hurried my movements, not sure if I wanted to go to the circus or not.

Suddenly it dawned on me.

I could take Tyler!

He wasn’t really into the mystical stuff like I was, but I was sure I could talk him into it. I quickly shut off the water, throwing on my clothes and raking a trembling hand through my soaking hair. He was always the one who gave me advice, and maybe he could help me now. I discovered him on the couch with a bottle of root beer opened in his hand even though it was only 9 in the morning.

“Oh, hey dude. Since when are you alive this early?” He joked; long brown hair curled over one eye.

“Uhm, I wanted to ask you something.” I grinned cheesily, hoping I wasn’t coming off to strong.

“What dude?” He asked, seemingly annoyed. I was confused until I noticed the controller in his hand, explosions sounding from the TV.

“Well you know how I go out for my daily walks?”

“Yeah, so?” He grimaced as his character took an arrow to the knee.

“Well there’s this…circus that set up yesterday. Do you wanna come with me today? I’ll buy your ticket.” I enticed, hoping the free admission would be enough to get his ass off the couch.

“Eh…I dunno dude.” He intoned, clicking the X button rapidly.

As if that made a difference.

“Come on, please.” I practically begged, the idea of him not joining me seeming too lonely, too… vulnerable. I knew I couldn’t go back alone this time.

“Ugh, fine whatever. Just give me a few minutes.” He relented as his character did a complex series of kicks and spins, ending the match in a K.O, which was loudly announced by the TV.

Tyler’s character spoke the dumbest catchphrase I had ever heard in my life;

“Let me guess, someone stole your sweet roll.”

As we walked into the circus, sparkling yellow tickets in hand, I noticed that something felt… different. The circus didn’t feel as personal as it had before. I began to notice how dingy some of the tents were. I noticed smeared make up and screaming children. A small shudder went through me as I began to wonder.

Was it always like this, or was the circus dying?

I tried to shrug off the feeling, but it haunted me as we both wondered around.

“I don’t see why you wanted me to come to this stupid place.” Tyler groaned, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Just wait until we choose a tent, most of the performances are pretty mind boggling.” I insisted, my voice almost sounding whiny. I cleared my throat and looked around for any tents that looked more enticing then the rest. I knew he wasn’t going to pick one, his stubbornness and ego to much for degrading himself to such a childish practice. He had his hood pulled up, and head down, and I knew he didn’t want any of his friends to see him here.

Egotistical ass.

I finally settled on a green tent, this one so pale I had almost mistaken it for white. As we entered, Tyler removed his hood and I looked around for somewhere we could go. This tent seemed small on the inside for having looked larger then the others. It was a bit confusing, and my brain began to disorientate my vision. Patterns of light began to light up on the inside canvas of the tent almost like dancing fireflies. The same two tigers from the second tent I had visited here seemed to appear out of no were, a trick that was outstanding in the closed off tent, but here in the open, where I was vulnerable, and my heart began to knock against my rib cage. I could feel Tyler’s anticipation next to me, both of our fright almost tangible in the air. The tigers both lunged, but were separated from us by what almost seemed like an invisible wall. I tentatively reached my hand out, only for it to come to rest upon a smooth surface, like glass but obviously stronger. We both looked each other, feeling the tension and anxiety evaporate.

“I’ve seen these tigers before, in a different tent. I wonder why they’re here.” I commented to Tyler, who seemed to be too focused on the twin albinos to hear what I was saying. I noticed that their dull stripes were painted a vibrant red, and their fangs glinted from the dancing lights that were moving around the room. I hadn’t even noticed that the lights had begun to circle my brother and I, a small feeling of claustrophobia settling in. I tried to reach out my hand to catch one, and most avoided my grasp, but one lone light, a green one to match the tent, settled in my hand. A pink one was in Tyler’s, and he was studying it curiously.

The small girl from the seed tent walked in the main entrance, her broken spectacles hanging from a golden chain on her neck. I felt a small heat of embarrassment crawl across my cheeks, and she must have seen it for she smiled that cute smile of hers, and reached her chubby hand out towards the ceiling. A bright white light landed in her hand, and we each held our glowing lights, and I wondered what their purpose was.

“These are mood beetles. Almost like a mood ring, except they change as you hold them. You can keep yours if you like.” She informed as hers shifted from its bright white to a dark and evil looking black.

I wondered what the hell that meant.

“Well okay… thanks.” I said feebly, my voice shaking ever so slightly. Tyler just nodded dumbly, both of our lights turning a misty yellow.

“Could you tell us what the colors mean?” Tyler asked for both of us, for I had been just about to ask the same thing.

“There are so many different shades and combinations, that if I stood here and told you them all, it would take at least a year. Theirs a small basket of cards out front, but they are only to help you figure out which color means what. The rest, you must decipher yourselves. But don’t think two bugs are the same, because they aren’t. Your yellow could be his indecisive, and his yellow could be your angry. Good luck.” She ended, releasing her bug back into the air where it regained its glowing white light. She departed without another word, leaving more questions then answers, just like last time.

“Huh.” Tyler said, studying his little light more closely.

I shrugged and began to walk out, Tyler following me closely. We both grabbed a card and shoved them in our pockets. I tentatively put my beetle along with it in my pocket, noticing it hadn’t attempted to fly away or anything, so I hoped it would be fine in there. Tyler did the same, and I decided to see if he’d be willing to pick the next tent.

“So do you want to pick next?” I offered, my eyes still blinking rapidly against the bright sun.

“Alright, I guess.” He shrugged, trying to play it cool but I could tell he really wanted to pick.

So we began to walk, me following behind him as he weaved his way through the crowd. He led us back to the middle of the circus, my last memory of it not being so… spectacular.

He grinned and pointed in the direction of a card magician, who was currently fanning his colorful stack this way and that, asking anyone, anyone at all to pick.

We both walked up and grabbed a card, Tyler’s was a dull gray, which was weird because the whole hand had looked colorful before. Mine was red and I smiled up at the man, whose painted face hid any emotions that may be on the surface. His face was all sharp planes and pointed jaw line, and he looked like The Joker a bit if you asked me. He pulled back the remaining cards in his hand, looking at the backs of each one, both of us examining the cards in our hands. He suddenly whipped his arm out, the cards fluttering all over the ground, all of them landing face down save for two.

One king of spades.

And the other was a joker.

We both looked up at him willing any explanation, but the man was gone, and another glance showed that the cards were all gone as well.

This place was really starting to get on my nerves, my curiosity knowing no bounds.

“This place is so trippy.” Tyler grinned, causing my eyes to roll in his direction.

He began to walk off with a simple, “I’m picking again.”

I shrugged and followed, deciding since I had been here before, it was only fair.

He picked a tent this time, and it was a burnt yellow, almost orange. Kinda like a sunset.

Inside there were a few people wandering, but it was fairly empty, like almost every other tent. I noticed a tiny tunnel, just big enough to fit through on your hands and knees. I pointed towards it, nodding to Tyler as we both began to stoop down. We crawled through the dry dirt, causing weird glances from the other patrons, until they saw where we were headed.

“Oh, so that’s where that was. I’ve been here for twenty minutes!” A man behind us exclaimed as he raked a hand through his thinning black hair.

We continued forward, the tunnel seeming to get slightly bigger at each turn. It was dusty and damp, and made the back of my throat itch unpleasantly. I heard Tyler cough somewhere in front of me, but I couldn’t see him because it had gotten so dark. We crawled for what felt like an eternity, my finger nails caked with dirt, and my knees throbbing. Suddenly I banged into something, and realized I had practically just shoved my face into my brothers ass.

Nasty.

He scooted forward uncomforatably, as much as he could before he called back to me.

“Dude it looks like a dead end.”

“No way. It’s gotta be hidden or something.” I said desperately. I sat on my rear, the tunnel tall enough to allow this. I could hear the other people behind us, and I didn’t want anyone face in my butt, so I hurriedly palmed the thick cement wall in front of us, feeling like I was in one of those mystery movies where the secret entrance was a distended brick in the wall.

No such luck.

However, we did find a tiny button that we eagerly pressed. We heard gears clanking against each other, and the stones groaned as they began to slide apart, revealing a large doorway. We went through it and both stood up, stretching and popping our exhausted muscles. Slowly the other circus goers joined us, stretching and yawning and belly-aching about how each was sorer then the other. The other side of the tunnel was vast, and there were no tent walls to be seen. We were in a vast forest, trees and shrubs as far as the eye could see. There was a thick wrought iron fence that was currently blocking the only pathway, for every where else there were to many trees for travel. An older looking man, probably in his late 50’s, emerged, his graying hair and bright blue eyes an interesting contrast to all the green.

The man grinned and his teeth looked sharp, almost pointed, but I shook my head of such thoughts. I looked around behind me and realized the tunnel and the doorway had disappeared, replaced by more shrubbery. There were about eight of us, no kids and only two girls, one who looked about my age, maybe older, and another who looked in her thirties. The rest of us were all men of varying ages, and I wondered what we would all possibly be participating in.

“Welcome to the forest of oblivion.”

Part 4

“Welcome to the forest of oblivion!” His great voice boomed, piercing blue eyes scanning all of us slowly. He held two keys in his hand, one was deep gray, and one was shimmers and rainbows, changing colors whenever the light hit it. He held both up into the air, and regarded us like a predator. He held out the gray key, inviting for anyone of us to grab it.

“One key to open the gate,” he smiled, pearly white teeth set in an old face.

“And one, to seal your fate,” as he said this, he extended his arm high up into the air, and a huge bird with brilliant green and red feathers swooped down, grasping the rainbow key in its beak. With a flap of its huge wings, it returned to the vast blue sky, becoming a small pinprick and then disappearing completely.

Tyler walked forward, and grasped the key in his hand, the rest of us herding around like a flock of sheep. He plunged the key into the awaiting lock, and we were all nervous as the humongous white gate swung open, revealing a big sign that was painted in a block number one.

“This maze has three levels. Keep your colors in mind.” The old man gestured, with a big wave of his wrinkled hand. He disappeared in a puff of smoke, and I smiled in awe.

I wondered what we had in store.

We all began to push out of the gate, and when the last person exited, the gate swung close with a loud thud, and we could all hear the faint click of a lock.

“We should separate into groups.” Someone shouted from amongst the masses. We all nodded in unified agreement, and began to separate. Mine was Tyler, myself, and an older adult, who appeared awkward and nervous. There were three groups and three paths, so we all chose one to explore. I wasn’t sure how we were going to catch a flying bird. As we navigated the twists and turns of the maze, it felt like it went on forever, the thick forest canopy allowed no sunlight, making it impossible to tell if time was passing or not. I thought about mother at home, and what would happen if we were both late. I shivered and looked to Tyler, who had his eyes trained ahead, and his footsteps were sure, almost as if he knew where he was going. I shook my head and sighed, red hair hanging in my eyes.

I really needed a haircut.

As we continued, I began to notice that the canopy wasn’t as thick, and that the sunlight was beating down into our faces. I sighed with relief, glad it wasn’t already late. Soon the sun was making all of us sweat, and our paces had slowed dramatically, causing us to move sluggishly.

“Can we take a break?” The man whined, his shirt outlined with giant sweat spots.

Tyler nodded his agreement, his large bushy hair reduced to a matted mass against his forehead. I sighed, and shrugged my shoulders in agreement as we began to search for a shadier spot. We found a huge oak tree that stood like an imposing wall, right in the middle of a double pathway between the hedges. We all slumped against the thick rough bark, scratching us through our damp shirts, and making me feel vaguely uncomfortable. The shade was a nice retreat however, from the constant watching eye of the sun. We sat there for a while, allowing our energy to return, when suddenly, a loud noise pierced the air. It sounded like a bell, and it echoed in my ear drums, leaving me feeling disorientated and confused. We all looked around, and I began to notice that the walls of the maze were changing. I quickly backed up from the tree, and saw that I had pushed against a panel. The walls grayed, and the leaves began to fall, one by one, until there was a swirling tornado of leaves that lifted and spun away into the air. The walls were now made of a thick metal, reflecting the sunlight and blinding us slightly.

“What the hell?” Tyler and I said together, and the man just shrugged. He placed his hand flat against the metal wall. He recoiled quickly, and turned back to us.

“It’s hot.” He announced, causing an eye roll from the both of us.

We decided to choose the right path, my gut telling me the left was a dead end. As we got farther in, I noticed that the sun wasn’t nearly as bright, and when I looked at the sky, it couldn’t find it in the sky, although the sky was still a bright, clear blue. We found a tunnel that resembled the one we had entered this place in, and it gave me a small glimmer of hope, that maybe this was the way out. However, as we inched closer, a gate slid over the entrance with a loud click. An echo of the sound repeated behind us, and when we turned to investigate, we realized that our way out was barred, with a thick thorn covered wall. I kneeled down to investigate the tunnel, and as I went to grasp the bars and test them, my hands passed through the bars causing me to fall forward and smack my head against the wall.

“Ow,” I grumbled as I heard Tyler cackling behind me. We all crawled through the tunnel, this one significantly longer than the other. By the time we reached the end my hands were swollen with angry red blisters, and my jeans had new holes and dirt patterns. We stood and looked at one another as we tried to gather our bearings, I heard a loud car honking. I realized we were standing on a nearly empty road with a car barreling towards us.

I could hear the squeal of the break, but I didn’t trust the car, so I grabbed Tyler and rolled, feeling my shoulder connect jarringly with the thick curb. The man with us had also avoided the car, which was followed by a string of cusses screamed by the infuriated driver. Tyler just smiled and waved at the man, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“Where are we?” The large man asked as he wiped his thick brow. All of us began to look at our surroundings, and I realized we really were in the middle of nowhere. However, not to far into the distance, I could just barely see the dark outlines of tall buildings puncturing the deep orange skyline.

“Dude, mom is going to kill us,” Tyler commented.

“I think we have bigger problems,” I sighed.

I scanned for any road signs trying to get an idea of where we were, but couldn’t find any in sight.

“Do you think this is part of the maze?” Tyler questioned.

I responded with a vague shrug, and began walking towards the buildings. I could already tell that we weren’t going to make it by nightfall. I started trying to work out a way to make it through the night, and I began to spiral into deep thought when all of a sudden I felt the sharp point of an elbow connect with my gut, jarring me from my process. I turned and glared at Tyler.

“Look, and inn,” he pointed as he began to turn and head towards it. I looked at the man and we shared a look before deciding to follow Tyler. The inn looked fairly unoccupied, and there were only eight cars in the parking lot.

“Maybe we’ll get stabbed in the shower?” Tyler joked.

I shoved him and he laughed harder as we entered the hotel. The lobby had two velvet couches that seemed out of place compared to the polka-dot wallpaper and the several garden statues. Frankly, it reminded me of a garage sale, kind of like the ones my grandmother always dragged me to. A plump old lady stood at the front counter, and at first glance, she looked kind of familiar.

“Welcome!” She beamed. Her pale hands rested on the large desk in front of her, which was painted an obnoxious purple, and just like everything else it didn’t quite fit. We all kept looking around as the women waited patiently.

I was the first to approach the counter, and as I arrived I began to feel around in my pockets, hoping to find some sort of money to pay for a room.

“How much for a room?” I smiled, hoping to play sweet, because I only had twenty bucks in my pocket, and I knew Tyler was always broke.

“Fifty for a night, and it includes breakfast in the morning,” she smiled, causing her eyes to crinkle up at the corners.

“How about we skip breakfast, and I give you twenty?” I pleaded. “It’s all I have.” I grinned sheepishly as I began to remove the bill from my pocket. I deposited the crumpled bill in front of her, and her eyebrows raised slightly. Her blue eyes scanned over our rag-tag group, a threesome of filthy men coated in sweat and dirt. She seemed to be considering us, and the adult in our group, whose name I still didn’t know, had begun to wring his hands nervously again. With a sigh the lady picked up the worn bill and replaced it with a key smothered in thick dust. I could faintly see the three etched into the metal.

“You’ll be in room three, and you have to be gone by noon,” she said tightly, her voice sounding weary and thin.

Guiltily I took the key and headed up the spiral staircase to the right. No too far down the hallway we found our room and entered it. It was more matched then the lobby, almost all of the sparse décor was a tan color. There was one bed, and after a grueling wrestling match, Tyler and I claimed the bed, and the man passed out on the couch.

I still didn’t know his name.

Part 5

“Exploring ones mind

Is like entering a complex labyrinth

That has no end

Only twisting turns and dark corridors

Where it’s easy to get lost and to lose ones self

In the deep trenches

Of ones own thoughts”

When we woke up the next day, we all felt groggy and disorientated. My legs throbbed and my stomach growled, regretting turning the breakfast down. I rubbed my hand through my hair, but it got stuck in the tangles of my curls. I grimaced and stood, wobbling slightly in my exhaustion. I slothed towards the shower, turning on the shower. After sitting and fiddling with the knob, I realized it only had two settings; Frozen Antarctic ice caps, and Hawaiian mid-summer volcano lava. I settled for the ice caps, my teeth chattering as I ran cheap shampoo through my hair. After the shower I still felt somewhat gritty, but definitely more awake. When I traipsed back into our main room I discovered Tyler missing and the old man just sitting there, waiting. He got in after me, so I dropped my towel and decided to get changed. As I was inspecting last night’s filthy clothes, Tyler returned with a tray of black coffees and toast. As he sat it down on the desk, and turned to face me, he began to laugh. I jumped, startled and whipped around at him.

“Don’t you have the decency to knock?” I squeaked, my skin turning red as I hurriedly tried to cover my self with a towel.

“My hands were full.” He mumbled around a thick piece of toast, crumbs falling down his face.

“Where did you get this food anyway?”

I began to pull my shorts on, the red fading, but I still felt embarrassed. I pulled my faded red t-shirt over my head, yanking it down as Tyler replied.

“Don’t worry about it,” he grinned. I sighed, and shrugged. Apparently I was the only one who understood morals. Either way, I was starved, so I grabbed a big piece and drowned it in butter before cramming it into my mouth.

“There is such a thing as a bite y’know.” Tyler joked, cocky as ever. I just glared at him and slurped at some of the black coffee. It tasted awful, bitter and gross. I spat it out and started drinking from the faucet nearby, letting the cool water cleanse the foul stuff from me.

“What the hell was that?” I asked him.

“Black coffee stupid,” Tyler rolled his eyes.

I sighed and sat back down on my bed, feeling it shake weakly. I looked over at the flashing numbers, to see it was already eleven o’ clock.

“Dude, we gotta get going,” I complained, my anxiety budding. I wanted to get into the city and figure out where we were.

“We have to wait for fat man, don’t we?” Tyler gestured towards the steaming bathroom door, and I smirked at the nickname. “I guess we could just leave him.”

“No, you were right the first time. We should wait,” I decided.

He rolled his eyes, thick eyebrows furrowed. We both sat quietly when finally the water shut off. I faced away from the door, not wanting a repeat of what had happened between Tyler and I, the memory stinging. I sighed and look to Tyler, who was chugging more coffee.

“Dude, you’re going to be buzzed,” I warned, not wanting to deal with a hyper Tyler.

He ignored me, and after a few minutes more of counting the spots on the carpet, I grew impatient.

“I’m going in there incase he fell or something.”

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” Tyler cracked. I threw a glare in his direction before walking up to the door, and when I rapped my fist against the wood, I noticed it was still warm. After receiving no answer, I turned the knob, swinging the door open to reveal and empty bathroom. Fat man was gone, and the window was open, allowing a hot breeze to billow inwards.

“Uh…. Tyler?” I beckoned, wanting him to take a look. I heard the chair he’d been in squeak as he moved upward, and towards the bathroom. He shuffled in, and looked around at the empty space.

“Where’s fat man?” He asked, as if I knew.

“He probably heard your nickname and left. That’s one less protection we’ve got, thanks to your insensitive ass.” I condescended.

“Hey, you laughed, and it’s not like he helped anyway,” he countered, causing me to just sigh and shake my head. Sometimes, he really was a jerk.

“I guess your right, but it still wasn’t nice.”

After we had left with a swift farewell to the lady at the desk, it was already approaching noon. The sweltering sun was high in the sky, and perspiration had already begun to bead on my skin.

“How much farther?” Tyler complained, “My feet hurt.”

I just sighed and ignored him, the sun making it too exhausting to argue. The skyline of the city was no longer miles away, in fact, I was sure we weren’t too far away. We had already passed a few small businesses, and a sign that welcomed us to somewhere called Bazaar. We were on the outskirts of the city, and everything here was a dull muted green, the colors seeming fake after the vibrancy of the circus. Vendors screamed at us to buy fruit, or jewelry for our loved ones. Some homeless beggars were huddled on the sides of the road, their clothing tattered and filthy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a parade of soldiers, sharp precise and clear. Their matching blue uniforms gave them the mirage of a sea, clean cut and menacing. As they passed through, they hacked down homeless, stole fruit, and pilfered jewels. They stopped in front of Tyler and I, a taller man only about two feet away from me. He was clean shaven, and smelled faintly of mint. I looked up at him, and his brown eyes stare down at me.

“And what business do you filth have in our city?” He asked, causing the other men to laugh. I looked to Tyler, who didn’t look as scared as I, but he didn’t speak up.

“We are just travelers’ sir,” I enthused, leaking courtesy. I decided to kiss up to this man, who could slice both of us in half with one slice.

“Passport?” He grinned, as if he knew we didn’t have one. Nervously I pretended to search in my pockets, thinking up some sort of excuse as I bought some time. However, my hand hit something and curiously I pulled it out. It was a white piece of paper, folded but smooth as fresh snow. I looked up at him, to see a worried look on his face. Arrogance building, I unfolded the parchment, and handed it to him. He grabbed it with shaking hands, his face growing angrier and redder.

“Everything s-seems to be in order.” He spat.

I had no idea how it got there.

“However, it says you are to be escorted to area three for *censored*,” he added. “I would be happy to accompany you there.”

I was almost certain he was being sarcastic.

Nervously we headed eastwards, only the one man accompanying us, the rest of the battalion having head south, for some patrol duty or something. The man wasn’t sharing much, and that was all I had been able to extract from him. As we entered the city, everything changed. The pale colors were replaced with menacing skyscrapers, twisted and gray and cold. They stood, stacked so impressively, that they reminded me of fields of corn, planted and growing. In fact, I could see one being added onto, a large crane dangling bits of metal precariously. The soldiers’ footsteps doubled mine and Tyler’s, so we almost had to jog to keep up with him. The clink of his armor had begun to irritate me.

“Where are we going anyway?”

He didn’t answer, so I just glared at the asphalt. Eventually, we arrived at the building, a clone of all the others. We pulled apart the thick doors, and entered cautiously. The man put his gloved hand across my back, a gesture that to any passerby would speak kinship, but we both knew he was making sure I wouldn’t bolt. A metal desk looked in front of us, and a tall elegant man stood behind it, going through files haphazardly.

“Where… Where is it?” He muttered to him self, loud enough for us to hear. We stood there awkward for a few minutes, until the soldier grew impatient and cleared his throat to catch the mans attention. He whirled around, black spiky hair bouncing, and wide eyes full of shock.

“Oh my! I really am sorry!” He chirped, gloved hands flying over the desk frantically. He picked up a thick note pad, and dipped a quill into a dark ink.

“What can I do ya for?” He grinned, with crooked teeth. He made me feel off-put and awkward.

“These two are scheduled for a level three test. Now,” the soldier glared, menacing and brutal.

The man gulped, his adam apple dancing.

“Yes sir, right away sir!” He scribbled in his notebook, the writing looking more like a child’s scribbles then an actual document.

After some papers were delivered, and stamped, Tyler and I were led into a twisting corridor, lined with metal doors. They were stamped with a letter and a number, and eventually we reached the one embossed with;

“Room M3”

The soldier grinned at us, wolf like. It caused a shiver to roll down my spine, and with my apprehension and fear building, I grasped the cold metal door handle in my hand, slowly twisting it open. The door opened to reveal an empty room, save for five chairs in a circle. It appeared to be a waiting room, and I sighed, annoyed. I plopped down into a random chair, huffing as I did so.

“Stop acting like a girl dude.” Tyler laughed, claiming the seat next to me. I just glared at him, his presence furthering my annoyance. My patience was running thin, home calling to me, my feet wanting to move on, and my brain wanting to solve this huge puzzle we were trapped in. As we sat and stared at the purple walls, I rolled around questions in my head. Why were we here? Were we chosen to be here? Were we even in the circus anymore, or was this all just coincidence? Was this a part of the maze?

That last question troubled me the most, for we truly did not know if we were in level three, or we were just lost; thrown into the midst of confusion. The waiting felt eternal, no sounds made, save for the shuffling of Tyler’s constant movement, and my heavy breathing. Eventually I closed my eyes, the weariness still haunting them. When I reopened them, Tyler was passed out as well. It felt like it had only been five minutes, but I knew that it had been longer. I let out a scream of frustration, causing Tyler to jar awake.

“Where the hell are these people?” I shrieked, my anger exploding. Afterwards, I felt better, but it didn’t change the fact that we were alone in this room. I sunk back into my chair, resting my head in my hands. I stared at the linoleum floor, tracing the lines with my eyes, making my own maze. After what had felt like weeks, the door opposite the one we had entered (Both were locked, we tried) swung open. There was no person behind it, making it appear as if the door had somehow opened on its own. Maybe it had. The circus really was starting to mess with my perception of things, my logic, and physics. It was starting to make my head hurt, and so we both eagerly jumped up, heading towards the door.

Part 6

The room wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It was small, and was divided into four sections. Two other kids about our age were seated, and so Tyler and I occupied the last two available seats. As soon as we sat down, walls slid up, barring us until we were isolated from the other people in the room. I could feel the anxiety bubbling in my chest, and began to tap my fingers against the desktop in front of me. A piece of paper I hadn’t noticed lay on the desk, as well as several shades of marker. A robotic voice filled the room;

“Draw the first thing that comes to mind. You have ten minutes. Begin,” it commanded. I picked up the green marker, twiddling it around in my fingers. I decided to draw the circus Alleyway, with all of its vendors and tents. I left it devoid of people however, slashing together tents in shape defining scribbles. Soon enough it looked how I remembered it, but I had only used green. Curiously, not paying attention, I picked up the violet marker, and bled it onto the paper, like big spots of shadow. I filled the tents with it, and my hand began to draw something in the corner. Before I could finish, a ding sounded in the air. All I had were the tents, a candy stand, and the weird shadow of a man hidden in the corner; watching. I had confused my self, but the walls slid down and a tall man walked around, collection our papers.

“Please remain seated while we analyze the results,” the robotic voice chimed.

I sighed, and looked over to Tyler, whose head was slumped forward, and held up by his hand. He looked over to me, and grinned, so I just waved. The other two kids, both girls, looked like sisters.

Odd.

They didn’t talk however, and just sat there staring straight forward. Tyler must have noticed too, because he shot me a look as if he was interested in one or the other. I just rolled my eyes at him. Eventually the man returned, and handed back our papers. Mine was stamped with an etching of the circus, a green to match the marker I’d chosen. I looked around trying to read the others faces, but nothing was readable.

“If you have the stamp, please proceed through the door to your right. However, if you do not, please remain seated.”

I began to move, before realizing I was the only one. I looked over to Tyler, who still stared down at his paper. When I looked into the two girls faces, I could see the tears running down them. I got a glance at Tyler’s paper, and saw it only contained a large pink cross on it, no stamp.

“It’s just another test,” Tyler mumbled, more to himself than to me.

“I guess I should go…” I relented, wondering what he’d say. He just remained silently, appearing more thoughtful than I’d ever seen him. I sighed, and exited right, the door sliding shut behind me to rejoin the wall. I was now alone in a separate room, that appeared closed off, with no entrances or exits, but by now, I knew better. I waited, my patience returning. Eventually the desk clerk emerged, but he had ditched his boring suit. Now he was dressed in extravagant clothing, tailored just for him. He was garbed in deep purples and blues, the hue shimmering, even with no light in the room. I could see his outline swaying slightly, almost as if he were drunk.

“What brings you here?” He asked, voice deeper and more serious then I remembered.

“This stamp, apparently,” I joked. He did not appear amused however.

“You are here because you passed our test. What’s inside you boy?” He asked, as if I knew. I just shrugged.

“I can sense that you want to join our circus,” he added, watching me to gauge my reaction. It hadn’t really dawned on me before, but I nodded in agreement, realizing this truly was the only place I felt accepted.

“Well you passed our test, but it’s not that easy. People can’t just run away and join the circus willy-nilly. There are responsibilities. Judgments. Most don’t survive,” he threatened.

“I know what your seed said,” he continued, “Trust, Faith… Power.”

“Do you know what power is my boy?” he finished.

I shook my head, my fear growing.

“Green,” he glowered, “Power is green.”

Memories flashed through my head; how I was attracted to the green tents the most, the green lightning bug I still had in my pocket. The green marker I used in my drawing.

“And your perspective of the circus. Your drawing showed just how much imagination you have. This is vital for being part of our circus. You know the operator behind all this don’t you? If you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s me,” he grinned, “and if you have, than bravo, you’re quicker than I thought. I’d like you to meet someone, although I’m sure you already know each other.”

The little girl from the two tents, the one with the black and white bug, appeared from the shadows. I noticed then how pale she was, almost as if I could see through her.

“You may have noticed how…insubstantial she appears. She is very ill, as is the circus. We need you,” he finished.

I stood there, sweating. I didn’t understand all of this responsibility being thrown upon me, weighing me down. What about my family?

As if reading my thoughts, the girl spoke in a quiet voice;

“They aren’t your family,” she whispered, “You were placed there, growing until you were ready to face this challenge, and join the circus.”

All of this was making my head hurt, my thoughts scattered. I desperately tried to find something that made since, but failed, miserably. I always knew I didn’t look like my family, but I thought I was part of them. I wonder if they even knew.

“There are so many things you don’t know about!” The little girl exclaimed, her eyes widening.

“And if I want to go home?” I asked, wondering if I had a choice. None of this felt real.

“Hey, we didn’t say you’re in the circus yet kid. It’s not that easy anymore. However, if you decided to try to join us, there is one other opponent, equal to you, that you’ll have to face first.”

“Who?” I asked, the nervous fluttering in my chest already telling me who it was.

“Onyx.” The man said.

“Who?” I asked, not remembering the name.

“Ah, right, I forgot. He never told you his name. Allow me to introduce you then. Onyx?” the ring leader shouted into our small space.

How many more people could we fit in here?

From the shadows, the outline of a man emerged, and as I focused in on him, I realized who it was.

Fat man.

“The test can begin now, if you wish,” the ringleader gestured towards a now apparent door, a halo glowing from the outline and illuminating it. I swallowed roughly.

“I get no time to think about it?” I hesitated.

“We don’t have any time.”

I sighed, looking to the ground and then back up at Onyx, who looked absolutely furious.

Man, someone couldn’t take a joke.

“You’ll be participating in…certain events that will help as ascertain whether or not you’re…worthy for the circus or not.”

I felt as if fat man was no threat. He had proven time and time again to be dull, slow witted…and well… fat.

We were lead through the doorway, the brightness causing me to bl
ink rapidly.

There were four tents.

They were colored red, yellow, green, and purple. I could feel energy humming in the air, sparkling like electricity.

“You will start with the red tent, and continue on,” he smiled, “Provided you survive that is…” he finished, with a mumble.

“Excuse me? What was that last part,” Onyx questioned.

I just stared at the ground nervously, my heart racing. My ache to join my circus filled me to my core, but the important question was; was it worth my life?

Suddenly, Tyler’s voice echoed in my head.

Only a test, only a test.

I turned that into my motto, refusing to believe what they said. I fooled myself into believing it was, only a test.

∞

Please don’t go.

I have to, and you know it. I’ll never be able to stay in one place!

What about our son?

He’ll come back to me. They always do.

∞

As we headed into the red tent, I tried to calm my nerves. The tent was smaller than most of the ones I had been in at the circus. The walls had beautiful patterns that seemed to dance and move. I watched them carefully, my mind reeling. Onyx stood beside me, while we waited to decide what we had to do here.

“Your emotions are keyed to the tent. Face them, and win this challenge.”

Confusion replaced the paranoia, when suddenly a wall separated me and fat man. We watched as it rose slowly, only visible by movement, because, it was transparent. He smirked at me, and turned to face the tent wall, so I did the same, the confusion budding. My side of the tent began to run together, the walls and the dancing figures becoming a blur. I panicked, and as I stared into the now vast tent, my apprehension grew. Confusion darkened into fear, and suddenly my side of the tent went pitch black. I could faintly hear the chirping of crickets, and the heavy sound of footsteps, headed towards me.

It’s all in your head, head, head.

Echoes sounded in my mind, colliding with my stable thoughts and turning them dark and bitter. I struggled against the darkness, telling myself it was only my imagination. I peaked over to Onyx’s side and realized the transparent wall had turned opaque making my vision of his side all muddy. I saw a second figure looming over Onyx, the figures seemingly locked in combat. One of the figures flickered, and then was gone, like a candle flame. I cursed, and turned back into the darkness of my side. I could see the faint outlines of my house, and that frightened me even more.

How were they doing it?

I knew emotions could be heightened and played with by professionals but I couldn’t force my self to calm down. The thudding of my ear drums blocked out most of the other noises, until a shrill scream, followed by laughter caused me to jump.

Come on, you can do this. Don’t be a wimp.

I chanted my mantra in my head, over, and over.

Only a test, only a test.

I focused on the circus, and how enlightened it had made me feel. I smelt the food, heard the voices. I remembered the painted sales person who sold me my first ticket. My entrance to all of this. It led me to destined pathways and destiny, when suddenly I opened my eyes. My surroundings had changed, mimicking the circus’s alleyway. I didn’t notice however, my tent had been split in half, yet again. One side showed me a path leading to the circus. The other, led me to what I called, home. I wondered if this was something I had to actually choose, right then and there. I listened to my heart, rather than the rationality of my brain, and walked towards the circus. As I did so, the sounds and smells in my head became real, until I realized;

I had returned.

I realized the ringleader was standing next to me, and I turned to face him, the questions visible on my face.

“He didn’t make it. We have no need for the other tests. However, there’s one last thing we need to discuss, but it can wait. Have you decided?” he asked, but his face told me he already knew my answer.

“I’d like to join the circus.”

Part 7

He had given me a green bracelet that I slid onto my wrist. Apparently I had to wear at it, because when I protested, I was contested with a stern look that shut me up immediately.

“I know you need my help, but the what’s and the whys are still an issue here.” I grumbled, standing between the ringleader and the girl.

“Join hands,” he commanded, ignoring me.

I obliged, as we stood in the very heart of the dying circus. I realized I had been right when I noticed earlier, but it had gotten far worst in our absence. The tents were all purple as far as the eye could see. They were dull, and leaning against one another like wilted flowers.

“The tickets you received were trying to tell you something my dear boy. Did you notice?” he asked

I recalled the ticket colors, remembering how they had begun to cycle through the rainbow. I nodded slightly.

“Good. Now we all have to do is close our eyes and…”

When I opened my eyes, everything was warped looking. The little girl smiled feebly and walked over to me.

“Malcolm,” she smiled. Even though, I didn’t remember telling her my name.

I gulped warily, my hands clammy and sweaty.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” she lost her smile. I frowned and shook my head sadly, looking over to the ringleader who appeared immobile.

“We won’t be bothered, don’t worry. You are the circus’ heart.”

“But why?” I exclaimed, tired of the games.

“He’s had other apprentices, but still, the circus died. They weren’t right for the circus. For me,” she added, running a small hand through her hair. I noticed the spectacles I had broken weren’t draped around her neck as I tried to distract my self.

“What happened to them?”

“They weren’t right for the circus,” was all she would say.

“And you think I am?” I inquired.

“I know you are,” she stated strongly.

“Why? I’m tired of all the games, the stress, and the confusion! I just want a straight answer for once!” I blurted my voice cracking. I coughed to cover it up.

“You’re his son,” she said quietly, gesturing towards the frozen ringleader. He looked ridiculous, still standing with his eyes closed and his arms out stretched.

“I…. I what?” I whimpered quietly, more confused than before.

“You are destined to join this circus. You still have the freedom to leave but we need you. It’s more than you could ever imagine, and it all depends on you. Your power is immense, greater than anything I have seen before.”

“What about my family? Tyler?” I questioned, my heart beating fast. I knew I didn’t belong to them, but I still felt responsible for my older brother. We had formed a bond through the circus, and now I’d be leaving him for it.

“This is far more important! I will die without you here. You are the lineage. It dies out after you. You are the only one who will be able to keep the circus when he passes!” she screamed, her eyes filling with tears. I could see her shaking, and my first instinct was to take her into my arms, so I did, and she rested her small head against my stomach, her entire frame vibrating with sobs and whimpers. I patted her hair awkwardly, in an attempt to comfort her.

“I’ll help you, but I don’t really understand everything yet,” I relented with a sigh.

“No one does. This whole place is a mystery, except to me. I can see how everything operates and the underlying force of it all. I promise you; it’s all real, no magic or slight of hand here. All of this is happening, and that’s what makes it so scary for all of us. We need someone of the ring leaders’ lineage to stabilize the circus. Just your presence here will stabilize it, but to revive it, that’s something else all together,” she finished, pulling away from me. Her pallid cheeks were dampened with tears, so I used the end of my shirt to wipe them away, which emitted a little girl giggle.

“There we go,” I smiled, ruffling her hair.

“I like you. I didn’t like the other apprentices,” she scowled. I wondered what that meant, but I was grateful she liked me. Child affection either went one way or the other, they down right hated you, or they loved you.

“Just tell me what I need to do,” I feigned a smile for her sake.

“All you have to do is go through the initiation, it won’t take long I promise!” she squealed happily.

She rushed over to a little chest off to the side of where we stood, and began to fiddle with the lock. Even though I didn’t see her pull out a key of sort, the chest was suddenly unlocked and pried open. When she removed a thick book from the chest, the green band around my arm began to glow and hum faintly; sending tingles up and down my arm. I felt something shaking in my pocket, before the lightning flew out, glowing brilliant green. The marker, which I hadn’t even realized I’d taken, flew out as well, and all the objects came together, in a blinding white light that caused me to squeeze my eyes shut. When I opened them, a small ring with three little emerald stones glistening in the band lay in my palm. It was warm, and I slid it onto my pointer finger, where it fit perfectly. I analyzed it, feeling subtle warmth fill me.

“This is yours as long as you want it. You can remove it at any time, but you will never lose it. It is your connection to the circus,” she smiled, watching me study the ring.

Suddenly, everything sharpened and began to move again. The tents straightened, stretching towards the sunlight. As if absorbing it, they began to regain their impressive hue, the brilliance astounding me. The ringleader chuckled and smiled.

“So you decided to stay then,” he smiled. He walked over, clasping me roughly on the shoulder.

“I still don’t understand how this all ties together,” I questioned.

“The entire circus needs all of us to function. Without us, it dies. We want to provide the same experience you gained through it, and not let it die. You became a whole different person.”

I ran a hand through my thick hair nervously. My green eyes met the ringleaders own, the similarities astounding me. How did I not notice?

“Do you know?” I asked, voice cracking. He nodded.

“Of course, but I had to do what’s best. Without your upbringing away from here, you wouldn’t have been able to save us. Being raised in the circus would’ve ruined all of us.”

“But why?” I asked.

“It’s difficult to explain,” he pondered, “you had to learn to face the cruelty of the world. To not believe in the questionable. Curiosity and imagination fuel the circus.”

I nodded, agreeing with him. I still didn’t quite believe everything I’d seen up to this point, because it was all so… magical seeming. It was hard to imagine it behind the scenes, seeing the how and the why. I almost didn’t want to know, not wanting to spoil the fun.

“So how do we fully revive the circus? It looks fine,” I commented.

“It may look that way, but inside the tents is where it’s now affected. Our tricks aren’t as good, our staff not as mystifying. We need to refuel their creativity, which is no easy task. It could take years before our circus is full throttle again.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” I smiled.

“Let’s start with getting you your own tent. What would you like to do?”

“I know exactly what I want,” I grinned.

Everything was getting better. We had more patrons then ever. My tent was the most popular, swathed in brilliant shades of green on the outside.

But when you entered, there was just one lone table, with me sitting behind it, waiting.

Waiting for someone like you, someone so full of creativity and imagination to walk in.

You’d be curious, look into the different metal bowls I had laying out. Look into them, see their reflective surfaces, and marvel at how the shapes were warped by the design of the bowl. You’d poke a finger in, watch the ripples spread out slowly, and grin back at your distorted reflection.

My bowls showed every aspect of the circus, every tent every area. Even the gateway, where the tickets were sold. It was how I chose to monitor all the aspects of the circus, and make sure everything ran smoothly. We had been looking for a new addition for a while however, and I’d been watching you visit us, every day.

When we came to visit your city for the first time, you were only six, but we could sense it in you. The fearlessness, the intrigue…

The power.

We all had our own specializations in tricks of the mind, manipulating people to believe in our magic, and not second guess them, just like they’d done to me so many years ago.

You’re about sixteen now, right around the age I was, when I joined the circus.

“How do you do this?” you smile, grinning up at me. Your eyes scream curiosity, and I can almost feel how badly you want to know. I remember feeling the exact same, and questing until I knew every secret of the circus. Now I held the secrets.

“Ah, well you see my dear,” I smiled,

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

Sweet 16

In life, it isn’t just good and bad. There’s the off-white, the gray, the silver. Those little in between bits- the kind that get all muddled and confusing. They occupy everyday life, and force us to choose. We make thousands of choices every day.

I had a big choice in front of me. It was a gray one with white stripes, but the stripes were all blurry, so I couldn’t fathom anything good coming out of this.

I’d been in this orphanage all my life, but today was the day that they had chosen to be my birthday. My sixteenth in fact.

Once you were sixteen, you could leave. I knew a lot of the orphans had plans to run off and find the parents that had deserted them, but I had no such desire. If they didn’t want me then, why would they want me now?

If I stayed, I only had two years until I turned eighteen, and that was when they kicked you out, off to face the world all on your own. I really wanted to leave, but this place had certain things that kept me here. For instance, there was the recently arrived babe that had been left on our doorstep, naked and hungry. Only one nurse maid cared for her, and she had failing vision and wrinkled hands, she would die soon.

Just like we all do.

I cared for the babe in the immense free time I had. We didn’t really have school, just lessons that appeared to be taught at random. How to survive in the world.

It was all useless.

My heart panged at both thoughts, leaving, staying. I did have a few friends, younger than I, and the thought of leaving them here alone…

I didn’t want to copy their parents.

At the same time, I wanted to be free, to escape, to live on my own. To face the struggles of the world, to explore. To taste something other than tap water and stale bread;

Freedom.

I knew I was a romanticist, and that the world was cold and hard, but I just couldn’t accept it. I knew it must be better out there, to be able to feel the wind in my hair, instead of the gruel stuck in my teeth after every meal.

I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with myself once I was gone. I hadn’t learnt much, unless you count basic cooking, arithmetic and reading. I read anything I could get my hands on, which wasn’t much here. It helped to expand my knowledge of the world, and some kids mocked me for it, but I loved it. I had huge stacks of books rented from our quaint library towering in my little cubby hole of a room, shared with three other girls, who always griped about my massive text books. I’d read anything from a documentary on how grass reproduces, to the scientific breakdown of a butterfly. I’d read old texts of history, tales of dinosaurs, wizards and fables crafted from mystical yarn. There wasn’t much fiction however, so typically I was restricted to the non-fiction stories.

I sighed and tossed the book I’d been reading to the side, adding it to the pile of books I needed to walk over and return soon. I decided to get it over with, scraping the pile into my outstretched arms, my vision almost completely blocked by bound paper. I wobbled towards the library, a good ten minute walk without the leaning tower of literature in your arms.

At every turn and crack I stumbled across the tower wobbled, threatening to fall to the ground, which would devastate me, and the librarian. With a sigh of relief, I entered the library, spilling the books onto the awaiting counter top.

The librarian here was one of my closest friends. She had friendly wrinkles and powdered cheeks, and she always smelled of lavender. It made me want to whisk my hands against soft blades of grass, and run with the wind. All the other girls thought she was mean, and shrewd, but I had befriended her with our mutual love of literature. She began to slide my collection back into the return bin, making small notes in a pad as she did so. She smiled up at me as she held one of Shakespeare’s old texts, faded and breaking at the edges.

“One of my favorites,” she smiled, adding it to my pile of returns. As I waited for her to finish, I decided to traverse the library. I ran my hands along fraying spines, and dusty shelves, scanning titles quickly, trying to find something I hadn’t read. Along the way, I grabbed one of my favorite books, Huckleberry Finn. I’d read it a dozen times, and it always made me sad. It was written about the civil war, even though the book was published after the fact. I loved becoming enwrapped in the story, the mischief, and the plot. I continued scouring the shelves, only finding several books I hadn’t read.

I made my way back to the desk, where the librarian had just finished returning my last book. I plopped the small pile on her desk with a frown.

“After these, I’ve read all the books here Mary,” I whined, addressing the old librarian by her first name.

“I know dear, but today is your birthday. I didn’t forget. You can leave whenever you want,” she smiled, saggy skin stretching. She reached under her desk, and pulled out a small cupcake, dimly lit with a melting candle, that dripped red wax down the side of the cupcake.

“How did you get this?” I squealed, taking the cupcake.

“It was only a weeks worth of my pay dear, don’t worry,” she grinned sadly. By 1934, the World War had been over for almost twenty years, but this area of Britain was extremely depressed, the food going to the wealthiest of the population.

“Oh Mary… you really shouldn’t have,” I said politely.

“We’re in a depression, and things still haven’t turned for the brighter. Making a little girl smile, is the start to something big,” she grinned.

“If you say so Mary,” I bit into the cupcake.

I had recently heard of the British Empire Games, being held in London, and I had known Mary had wanted to go. She’d been scouring money for months, and every bite of my cupcake tasted like guilt.

I had enough to leave. My job at the grocery store didn’t pay much, but it was under the counter pay, seeing as I had worked there since I was about six. The clerk sometimes snuck me candy, and sweets.

She passed away when I was eight.

Ever since, the candy from the store had tasted like despair and cinnamon, so I didn’t eat it anymore. I had gotten my birthday off, but I had worked pretty much every other day in my life, saving, and anticipating. Now, I saw alone in the shared bedroom, a rare occurrence. It seemed so empty, my pile of books gone, no gibbering girls. It felt like a great respite.

I cautiously extracted my little treasure box from underneath my mattress, the springs squeaking in protest. I blew the dust off, watching the particles dance in the air solemnly. I undid the latch with a key I wore always around my neck, the box opening with a click. Inside, was roughly 10 silver pounds, worked for with blood, sweat, and tears. It was just barely enough to pay two months for an apartment, because they had offered me half rate.

I decided to go check on the babe, pushing myself up off my bed, dusting my clothes off absentmindedly. They were tattered and old, the queen of hand me downs.

When I entered the room, I noticed a note stuck to the crib. I picked it up, trying to read the scrawled sc
ript.

“Nursemaid Leilana passed away last night. New nurse maid to be assigned soon.”

I could figure out whose signature it was, but the message saddened me. Leilana had been my Nursemaid when I was a babe.

I leaned over the crib, resting the pad of my finger against the babes’ chest, checking its heartbeat. It was slow, and rhythmic, showing sleep, not death. I breathed a sigh of relief, and studied its face carefully. She looked awfully pale, the pneumonia draining her of color.

Suddenly she awoke, her frame shaking with a raucous cough. I frowned, not sure what to do. My finger was still against her chest, but now the slow steady heartbeat escalated to rapid fire beats.

I stepped out of the room, my own heart racing.

“Nurse! Nurse!” I screamed, panicking.

I heard footsteps rushing towards us, slapping against the floor. After what felt like an eternity, a younger nurse appeared. She shoved past me like I was invisible, her frock smacking against me. She slammed the door shut, barring me from the room. I decided to wait impatiently outside the room, listening carefully. Finally she emerged, but closed the door behind her, a grim look on her face.

“Look, it’s dangerous in there kid, we can’t risk you getting sick too. You can’t keep visiting when she’s like this,” she chided, her voice spewing authority. I sighed, hanging my head.

“The orphanage can’t afford to have her treated. You need to let go,” she sighed, more motherly then authority now. Her comfort only felt like she was twisting the knife plunged into my heart. I wanted to do something for her.

“She’s going to die?”

“We can’t afford the treatment,” she repeated.

“How much does it cost?” I asked cautiously.

“About 2/6d just to see the doctor,” she frowned.

I sat in my room, mending my socks carefully with some yarn. We could spare to waste anything here, and we always made our own clothes. When the clothes became to worn to remain hand-me-downs, we unpicked them, and used the material to create odd new clothing, usually striped with many differentiating patterns. Here in our room, we followed the rules of first up, best dressed. It was an old tradition, and whoever was the first one up got their choice of our collected grouping of clothes. Often, I went without knickers, because there were so few, and I despised getting up early. Sometimes, I gave up one of my shirts for the babe, allowing her to use it as a blanket.

In front of our door was a peg rug, fashioned from a potato sack and various old hand-me-downs. It was an ugly little thing, but it kept your feet warm when you walked in. I had been working on one for the babe for some time now, and I’d finally finished it. Now, I might not even be able to get it to her. I pulled out my little treasure box again, running my fingers over the smooth coins. I sighed, the choice looming over me like a dark cloud. This one had so many white stripes in the black, I couldn’t see clearly.

The next day, I stood in the hospital waiting room, pacing. After I had showed all my money to the nurse, we had been rushed to the hospital, by my orders. I had chewed my fingernails down to the quick, a habit I’d hoped I’d left behind years ago.

Eventually, I was called into the room, and I entered nervously. The doctor blocked my view of the babe, but I could tell by the doctors attitude she wasn’t dead.

“She’s stabilized,” the doctor smiled, confirming my beliefs.

I smiled, practically beaming, as I pushed past him to the babe. She was asleep with a little angelic smile on her face, and the color had returned to her skin. The happiness I felt inside me quenched my sadness about not leaving the orphanage.

“About the bill…” the doctor reached out his gloved hand expectantly.

I sighed, and put all the money I had saved up into his awaiting and. I knew what I was doing was right, but my heart had also wanted to leave the orphanage. As the doctor left the room, I walked closer to the baby, placing my thumb on her chest.

The strength of her heartbeat made me grin.