SACRIFICE / P. PARKER

WHAT'S EATING ELLIE ABRAHAM?

The traffic snaked up the hill, two lines of steel and tire, each capable of over two hundred kilometers per hour and each averaging about five in their stop-start fashion. Bathed in their own putrid fumes a hundred hands reached forwards in unison to turn their airflow to internal circulation only. In each self-contained world, a radio told stories, sung or sold products to the citizens, some talked on cell phones or texted. In the upscale minivans, the children gaped at movies barely noticing the scream of sirens from behind and the ambulance driving rapidly into the oncoming traffic which veered to the curb. It was just another day in the city. One person's misfortune became the inconvenience of the many in their hermetically sealed indifference. The rain only made them feel more restless. But not Ellie.

The rain fell in crazy chaotic drops, the gusting wind carrying them in wild vortices one moment and in diagonal sheets the next.  It ran down the car window in a thin sheet. Ellie pressed her hand on the cool glass. Not as cold as it would be when December rolled around again, but without the warmth of summer showers. The day was a day made of inescapable wetness, but Ellie adored the rain. Just the smell of it would send her spiraling into a better mood.

"Hey, Elle. Check it out," Peter chimed, tapping Ellie's hand and directing her attention over towards a mass of people crowded on the street. A whole section of the city had been partitioned off for a huge carnival, it seemed. Rides soared upwards into the clouds, moving in a way that seemed infinite. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy filtered in from Peter's cracked window.

"Wow," She breathed, climbing over towards Peter's side of the car. "We haven't to the carnival since we were-"

"Nine? Yeah, I know," Peter finished for her. He peered curiously at the inconspicuous man driving the car Tony assigned to take them home. He then glanced at the stagnant traffic.

"Hey dude, can we get out?"

The man took a double take, looking back at Peter before quickly remembering that he was driving, and deciding to glance at him through the rear-view mirror instead.

"Um-"

"Okay, thanks!" Peter replied, grabbing Ellie's hand and throwing open the car door, practically dragging her outside. She squealed.

"No, wait! Mr. Stark and Dr. Farrow said she might be vulnerable to light and extreme motion for the next couple hours. I am to take you straight home," The driver shouted. Peter looked at Ellie, with a crooked, mischievous smile on his face.

"Feeling vulnerable at all?"

Ellie paused for a moment, knowing that this was probably foolish of her. But her skin itched in anticipation, her limbs pulsed with disuse. Caution was Ellie's second nature, but she was sick to death of her slow-moving life.

So in response, she shook her head. "I'm feeling great actually," She admitted sheepishly, her cheeks tinted red with elation.

Peter whisked her away to carnival by her hand, his grip reassuring. He had a way of anchoring her, even in this new reality.

As they approached the carnival entrance, Ellie caught Peter glaring at the enormous crowd in front of him, knowing it would take hours just to purchase a ticket.

In that moment, Ellie saw a light bulb go off in Peter's head, and he sneered at her again. When Peter got that look when they were kids, it was almost never a good sign. But in the spirit of the life Ellie was now determined to live, she had to embrace the inevitability of the mischief she was about to participate in.