THE FORGOTTEN FAIRGROUND [SHORT STORY]

SHORT STORY

This place I haunt will not be habitable for human life for another estimated 20,000 years. Now, you would think I am currently residing on a planet not fit for human life yet, but you're wrong- I am on Earth. The place I haunt might not be suitable for humans, but it is thriving with animals like lynxes, wolves, bears, deer and bison. The trees still have some green, and the dirt isn't completely dried out thanks to the rainfall.

But this place isn't my heaven. It isn't even my hell.

It is my limbo.

My death occurred over thirty years ago, and it was a peculiar incident.

In 1986, a few friends and I discovered this fairground, which wasn't in operation yet. I had initially thought that it was abandoned, but my friend had informed me that the fairground was rumored to be having its grand opening on May 1st that year. I was elated at the news. There was something about this place which seemed to communicate fluidly with my soul. It was as if I was built to walk this place. I remember thinking that I wanted to come back again and again and again.

One of the first things you see upon entering this place is the Ferris wheel, called the Circular Overview. Its frame is black, and its cars are yellow with yellow roofs. Beside that is a red rollercoaster, the carriage stationary; in the wind it creaks, and I remember thinking when I first laid eyes on it, despite the place initially enchanting me, that it looked a little spooky. I had wondered if this seemingly forgotten fairground was haunted.

And now it is. By me.

Throughout the day my friends and I wandered endlessly through the fairground. There was a carnival-type shooting stall, but the shutters were closed, of course; there was a sort of paratrooper ride, called the Chamomile, but they weren't any canopies fitted onto them; there were some swing boats, called the Russian Swing; and some bumper cars, called the Autodrome. We didn't think it safe enough to even attempt to operate these rides, so we just explored, excited, afraid – curious. We left after spending a few hours here, and we were bright with animation: laughing, cackling, shoving each other and talking about all the rides we saw.

But now these rides are rusted.

Everything is decayed.

All is black and dead.

And I am alone.

On April 26th of that year, the grand opening was cancelled. My friends and I had been looking forward to the opening, seen as we considered ourselves worthier of encountering the fairground again than anyone else. After all, we had memorized every ride, every path, every game. We had planned to go on the Ferris wheel first, and then the Autodrome, which we

were most excited about, and then the Russian Swing, because I always loved rides which pendulum; those kinds of rides always made me feel dizzy with delight.

When we heard the news, we groaned in disappointment.

The visions of me swinging on the ride decayed and eroded into nothing.

In 1977, a power plant opened a few kilometers away from this fairground. Over the years it consisted of four RBMKs, which were a class of graphite-moderated nuclear power reactor made by the USSR. Just after the fourth one was completed in 1983, these reactors together produced about 10% of Ukraine's electricity. The fifth reactor was about 70% complete when the fourth reactor exploded on a Saturday, on April 26th, 1986, due to flaws in the design which caused a nuclear chain reaction. The explosion released about 5% of the reactor's core into the environment. The radiation, inevitably, travelled through the elements around the surrounding areas, one area being Pripyet Amusement Park, the fairground my friends and I had grown so fond of. Despite hearing about the explosion, no one was truly panicked about it. Me being among the people unperturbed by the news. After the cancellation, I figured the fairground was going to be torn down, except the park was opened the next day after the explosion for a short time. I felt too excited to wait around, so instead of contacting my friends, I travelled to the park where I could see it come to life. Except, it wasn't long before news spread around the park that it was closing, and that the city needed to be evacuated. I stood, feeling unnaturally inserted into this group of panicked people. Terror hadn't quite plunged in my chest yet. I figured this was more serious than what I had thought, and that my parents would want me to come straight home in order to prepare to leave the city. But I did not want to go home. I felt like I had been through too much to be able to experience this fairground, and it did not seem fair for me to be rudely snatched away from my desires.

I remember feeling my face darken at this news.

I remember feeling torn between running and staying.

But I knew deep down what I wanted. I wanted to stay.

I did not want to leave.

And so I never did.