The Skeleton In Me

Chapter Eleven

If I make a big deal about his poor treatment, they will begin to wonder, and I'd prefer they didn't.

I sat myself against the wall Cousin was at, of course I made sure we were several feet apart. I pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my face in my arms.

The only word to describe how I felt was vile. Vile for doing what I did out there, I knew I had no choice, but it still stung. I felt disgusting, I felt no better than Mr. Father himself.

Everything about this freak show was wrong, inhuman. None of these people had any respect for others, or even for themselves.

And then I think, if cousin was free to do as he wished, he would most likely show more humanity than all the people here combined.

Or maybe that was me just being hopeful. What if he turned out no better -or even worse than Mr. Father? I'd be here, throwing away my own pride for nothing.

The show lasted for another whole hour. The music was annoying at first, but now I could barely stand it. When the sun was gone, and the moon and start lighting the sky, finally, the show ended.

I was exhausted, my anxiety draining every ounce of energy I had.

But we still had to pack up the circus and get on the train in order to make it to the next state in time. I hadn't realized just how much work is put into this show, until all the dancers, and gymnasts began to pack everything away, despite having unpacked everything less than five hours ago.

How could any of them find this fun?

Cousin was escorted back to the train, but I was to stay behind and help carry boxes of costumes and props to the storage box car.

Candace helped me, as he stuck to my side the entire night. He must have felt bad about what happened on stage, because after the kiss, he acted different. He talked about anything and everything, and I assumed he was doing it because he was attempting to get my mind off of kissing Cousin.

The kiss wasn't the worst part, it was the fact that Cousin might have been traumatized by it.

I shivered in humiliation, and regret.

"I hate myself." I say randomly, as Candace carried a large wooden box filled to the brink of metal chains and clasps for the acrobats. It must have weighed at least almost two hundred pounds, and yet he carried it like it were nothing.

All while in heels.

He is inhuman. I was tumbling in my own set of heels, and I wasn't even carrying anything.

"Don't beat yourself up over something out of your control." He said, shooting me a grin, "I mean do you think I just woke up one day and decided I loved myself in a dress? No. I hated it at first."

"But that was in your control, nobody forced you into a dress."

He snorted, "Tell that to my ex-wife."

I frowned, "I still think our circumstances are a bit different."

"All the more reason why you shouldn't hate yourself."

"And yet I feel so guilty."

"Why?" His eyes narrowed as he set the crate down in a boxcar, "Cousin is-" He paused as if to think of the right word. "He's not normal." He cleared his throat, "In fact, I believe he's more animal than human at all."

I stared at him, "But how do you know that?"

"I know that because I've seen him when he's angry."

"But you've also only seen him with chains around his neck, of course he's going to act like an animal when you treat him like one." I found myself boiling in anger. Typically, I liked Candace, at least, I thought I did. Right now, I wanted to kick the heels under him, and watch him break a leg.