I hear them breathing. In the fog surrounding me. Or more specifically to my right. On the other side of the rickety fence that separates our town from The Big Field. They're back. It's October 1st and I wish mum would have listened to me and had us leave. She waved my worries away as she sorted through the bills. I wonder if we're going without water or the phone this month.
This early in October all I hear them do is breath heavily. It's like they've unaccustomed to being here again. It'll take them a week or so before I'll be able to make out shapes. And a few more days after that before I can hear them speak. By then I'm staying home from school. I'm always very ill the last week of October. Bedridden. Mum's talked to doctors, but no one can tell her what ails me. I know. It's fear.
Our town has very few outside visitors in October. It's a well known and curious fact. They don't know why. I do. There's a creaking sound coming from The Big Field. They must have managed to get the ferris wheel through. I quicken my step. Images of previous years tumble around in my brain. I start running, but I can't outrun my own mind.
Strangers screaming of joy at finding a fair out in the middle of nowhere. Strangers riding the carousel. Strangers riding the big ferris wheel. Their screams of joy turning into panic and terror. The sound of shapes feeding. Razor sharp teeth tearing into flesh. Guttural voices barking orders.
I smell ethereal popcorn and cotton candy. My mouth tastes sour and with tears in my eyes I run faster. I hear them breathing in the fog. Silently keeping pace with me. Biding their time.
