Chuckles in Hell

Violating My Probation, Again

     "Yeah, yeah, sure Mom!" I say through my shirt as I run down the stairs. I get it pulled over my head and fix my ponytail. "I'll stay out of trouble!"
     "Every time you've said that before, I get a call telling me to come pick you up from the station!" she answers from the kitchen. "Do you have your phone?"
     "Mhm, it's in my pocket." I pull it out and show her.
     "You let your sister know you're going?"
    I roll my eyes, still bitter towards the fact that my younger sister has to drive me places, but nod.
     She raises an eyebrow as she points the spaghetti-stained wooden spoon at me. "Do you have your wallet?" I chew the inside of my cheek nervously. Do I lie? She narrows her eyes at me.
     "Yeah, I have it. Just in case I get caught," I laugh. She doesn't find it amusing, but she accepts it, turning back around and stirring the pot.
     "I expect you not to do anything that you get caught for," she warns. I nod my head and go towards the door. "Oh, and change your shirt! That one's got tears!"
     "I know it does! Have fun without me!" I walk out and pull the door shut. I can hear her muttering to herself through the open window, but I ignore it and keep walking. I look at my phone when I get a Memory notification. I glare at the memory-shot it shows, me crying at 6 years old standing next to a mime.
     "I can't even hear the circus music yet," I grumble as I shove my phone back into my pocket. I don't have a problem with the circus, usually it's pretty fun. And easy to get tickets from. I do however, have a problem with mimes. What's their deal? Why don't they talk? What are they hiding?
     My mom and my sister say I'm paranoid, but I guess that's what happens when you're constantly doing things you shouldn't. I'm like when Macbeth killed all those people and drove himself mad with guilt.
     Minus the killing people part.
     I make my way down to the gas station, running my fingers through my hair to try to detangle it. All I manage to do is make it staticky. As I blow the hair out of my face again, I notice a police car sitting outside the gas station.
     "Dammit," I mutter. Depending on who the officer is, maybe I can still get away with it. I mean, they're not going to get that mad if I take just one little bag of chips, right? Maybe a Tetra while I'm at it, I am dead tired today. Krissy woke me up way too early.
     I'm getting sidetracked, just standing there in the crosswalk. I realize this when someone honks. I roll my eyes at them and cross to the gas station. What's the point if you don't try your luck at least once every day, right?
     "Afternoon, Mika," I say casually as I walk in through the doors. The worker looks up and glares. He doesn't like me much. Can't say I blame him, though. "Business slow? What are you reading today?"
     "Business is fine," he says in a tired voice. "I'm reading the same thing I've been reading the past three days you've come in."
     "You don't sound very happy to see me," I complain. He gives me an exasperated look. I shrug it off and go to the back.
     "Hey, don't steal anything while you're back there!" he yells. I yell back some assurance and grab some chips and the energy drink. I look around and see Officer Davison standing over by the ice cream cooler, keeping an eye on me. I wave politely and go around an aisle where neither of them can see me. As soon as I hear Davison following after, I book it for the door.
    "Hey! Not again! Why do you always steal on my shifts?" I can hear Mika groaning as I rush through the exit, almost running into my neighbor.
     "Oh- Benzos!" she shouts as she moves out of the way. "Causing trouble again, young lady?"
     "It's Benoz! We tell you this every time!" I ignore the rest and keep running, narrowly missing being run over by a silver car. The person inside calls out an apology and I shoot them a smile before continuing on my way.
     I climb up half of a fire escape before stopping for a second to drink the Tetra. I immediately feel the adrenaline pump through my veins and re-cap the bottle. I set it down and look over the edge. Davison comes into the alley slowly, looking around. With a sigh of regret, I drop my Heaters down onto his head, grabbing the Tetra and climbing down one ladder before jumping off of the escape.
     "Benoz, stop! If you keep running, not only will you be violating your probation, but I'll have to take you into custody!" I freeze as I'm half-way through getting up. Custody? What the hell.
     "Sorry, Davison, I've gotta run. I'll get too jittery if I don't wear this drink off!"
     "Did you take another Tetra?"
     "I did indeed. See you around, officer!" I dart right past him, leaving my poor chips behind in the alleyway.
     As much as I hate the circus, it's about my only option at this point. I make my way through the streets and towards the sound of the organ, the smell of sugar and fried dough, the tall bright tents reaching up into the 8:00 sunset sky. I almost lose Davison until I make the mistake of going down Corbett Edge. So much traffic goes down that street, I should have known better.
     I eventually make it to the fairgrounds and lose myself in the crowd. I hear Davison shouting my name, and I keep running. I stop in front of the House of Mirrors, trying to catch my breath.
     "Hey there, you look dressed for the circus."
    I look up and see someone I don't know looking back. He looks like he's going through a mid-life crisis. Middle-aged man.
     "I'm a minor and gay."
     "I was just going to say you should go check out the clown house. Biggest tent here, all the different colors?" He rolls up his sleeves neatly.
     "Again, no thanks. I don't care much for clowns. Especially mimes."
     "Why not?" This earns a confused, slightly judgmental look from the man.
     "Because I-. Hey wait! I don't have to explain myself to you." I walk away from the conversation and over to the merry-go-round. I manage to sneak around the gatekeeper and onto one of the animals. As the ride goes around in a circle, I keep an eye out for Officer Davison. I don't see him after a couple of times, but what I do see is one of the infamous clowns, No Name, throwing knives onto one of those spinning circles. What makes me freeze is when I realize the person strapped to the spinner is not, in fact, one of the circus workers.
     "Oh, shit!" I jump down from my horse and run out the gate, hearing the keeper shout after me. As I make my way to the booth, towards that awful laughter, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
     "Benoz, I need you to come with me." I turn around when I hear Officer Davison's voice.
     "Wait, wait wait wait, I'm not the important thing right now!" I argue.
     "Not this time, Taralyn. You need to come with me."
     "But that clown- No Name- he is literally throwing knives at a guest!"
     Davison sighs and looks up at where I'm pointing. "Taralyn I do not believe that- what the-!" He lets go of my shoulder immediately and runs in that direction. I hear thunder in the distance, even over the sounds of the crowds and the music, and run after him.
     On my way, I find a little box by the clown tent and grab a baseball bat from it. The box is labelled "juggling". Oh, well. They won't miss it. I look up at the sound of yelling and see Davison confronting No Name. This... Isn't going to end well.