YO! My first post since coming home! ^.^* I hope you all like it!!!
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If time were a person, right now they would be dragging themselves through thick deep mud while being weighed down my shackles and cinderblocks. Time was dragging himself so slowly by it seemed to rest and pause for the longest breaks of time to catch his breath before struggling forward again.
I felt like the next two monthes that went by seemed so sickeningly slow that I almost broke down choking on the thick mud restraining it from moving forward any faster. The horrible thing is though, that even if time were to pick up the pace, I still have no idea what direction I would head in, or what little nasties would jump out at me next from the shadows.
So I waited. I waited, and patiently continued to slather on thicker layers of skin, so that I was becoming less and less vulnerable.
Vulnerable to what? The better question should be what shouldn't I be trying to protect myself from. It was a dangerous game hide and seek. So far I'd done well keeping my head low and out of anyone's notice. I didn't know how long it would last, but just like a game, there will always be more holes in the wall for me to fold myself up into.
At least that's what I tried to convince myself. Mickenna once told me that if once you begin to let fear take the controls inside your head, you're nothing short of doomed.
Me and the circus children were all waiting in our little room. Waiting for what, we were all uncertain of, but we were waiting for something. It had been three long suspenseful days since our last performance. We all knew it would come again, and in fear we were waiting for the moment they would come for us again. It was only a matter of time.
"It would be kind if they would at least give us a bit more warning right before," Reese said with a small poutish frown on his face, as he stared into vacant space.
I looked up from where my head was resting on Mickenna's lap, startled hearing the silence broken so suddenly after a couple of long hours. Mickenna's hands followed my head, her fingers didn't break their weaving patterns through my long black curls. I loved the way her delicate fingers danced through the waving curls of my hair; the slight tugging sensation felt tingly on my scalp.
"Why would they do that?" Arny asked scathingly before I could speak. My head swiveled to look over at him, crouched down in one of the darker corners of the room by himself. Until now, he'd been staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, like he usually did. When I asked him why he did that, he just shrugged my off, and I never asked him again.
Clarissa whimpered delicatly and her head rolls over to rest of her brother's, or should I actually say their shoulder and continued to doze. Her blond curls shuddered gently as the little girl breathed in. Reese lifted up his left arms, the one closest to Clarissa, and gently held her head with affectionate brotherly love.
"Arny don't go waking the sleeping ones with your huffing and puffing," Mickenna scowels, her lower lip and jaw pouting out towards him. Anry's eyes narrow at her in annoyance, making him look even more like a bull with his sharp yellow horns.
I shied away from the firey stare, but Mickenna just tosses her long red waves of hair over her shoulder and goes right back to playing with my hair calmly.
We sit for a while again without speaking. The only sounds are coming from Chip's little barks in his sleep and Blanes occaisonal low growels as he listens to noises the rest of us can't here outside the door. He always sits right in front of the door, so he is always the first one who knows when they are coming for us. His groweling used to frighten me a lot more, but then Mickenna told me how outside the door, people are always walking up and down the hallway, even if they were not coming to retrieve us. None of us knew much about this building we were being kept in. Mickenna told me that the circus had just been moved to this old, rundown building two or three monthes before I had been captured and brought here.
"How often does the circus move locations?" I asked suddenly. Mickenna pulled my head to rest on her chest as she thinks about it for a moment.
"About twice a year, sometimes three," is all she said, not asking me for any reason for wanting to know. She took one of my hands and played with my fingers while I sat without thinking.
None of us really had much to talk about here. Talking about our pasts is painful. The present is horroble to live in, and none of us want to think about the future, because we might actually begin to have hopes of having a future. Or at least being alive.
"Reese, What's your favorite color?" I askedas if it were really important for me to know.
"Brown," he says without hesitation. When I asked him why he responded, "Because my Mother had the most pretty brown eyes. They always looked like sweet chocolate."
Mickenna told me she loved the color green. "It's so elegant, so majestic," she said dramatically.
"Arny, do you have a favorite color?" I asked him with tenency. I had to admit that I had always been a bit afraid of the bull boy.
Arny gave it a deep moments thought before answering, "Pink," he said blatantly.
I hadn't been expecting that. I heard Mickenna choking back a giggle.?"
"Why?" I asked, politely keeping my voice from becoming incredulous.
"I used to love to watch the sunsets. The sky would always turn different shades of pink that rose up into the clouds at dusk, and mixed together with all of the other colors at sunset. I just have always thought that the pinks were nice," he said.
I just nod in response to that. Afterwards we were all silent again. I rest my eyes shut and let Mickenna twirl my hair around again.
And just when everything seems quiet and peaceful for a while, Blane began to growel wildly, like a mad cat. He flung himself away from the door just as it came flying open, making the hinges squeal in protest.
One of Briscoe's men walks through the doorframe spotting me immediately. The man walks over before any of us could react and drags me up by the arm.
Ignoring the protests from me and the other children, the man shoves me along out the door and out into the long hallway, slamming the door shut behind and locking it.
In a matter of seconds the unfamiliar man's hands had wrapped themselves around my eyes, and my fet dragged out in front of me as he pulled us down the long narrow hallway, up some stairs and through many doors before we finally stopped. My lip was quivering the entire time, trying to hold back the bubbling screams threatening to burst from inside my head.
The man dropped me onto a the floor and I heard him back out of the room again before closing the door. I had felt the thin woolen carpet underneath my knees, before I opened my eyes, looking down at the plain brown and gray colors.
"Ah Trisnae, how kind of you to join me here."
I shuddered hearing that cold, familiar voice. I looked up from the ground, and stared back at Briscoe hardly as he smirked with his feet kicked up onto a big wooden desk.
He jestured for me to stand. I did so unwillingly and stood there waiting for him to speak. I could feel my blood flow slowly begin to freeze and stop, and my limbs began to shake uneasily.
Briscoe smiled seeing my fear. I looked away as his tongue flickered out and licked the side of his lip.
"I have a problem Trisnae. You see, while I am always busy during the day, I have the tendency to forget to clean my office," he says gesturing to the room around us. It was indeed messy, while piles of papers and books strewn across the room, old smelling socks and other garmets along with stained dinner plates and glasses that looked like they'd been left there for months. I noticed his room, like every other one I'd encountered here, did not have any windows, but he did have a few lights and lanterns hanging.
"That's were you come in my little pet," he says loftily, standing up, and coming around his desk to stand in front of me. I don't move a muscle as he bends down to my height, smirking at me as he puts a finger underneath my chin. At this point, I've forgotten how to breathe, but I'm far beyond being able to feel the pain of lack of oxygen. Briscoe chuckles and his fowl smelling breath wafts over my face.
"I was thinking to myself last night 'I need some good little girl whom I know I could trust to keep my office clean for me. I'm sure they would love a reward for being so useful," he says, and even though my curiousity is sparked, I shrink back in mistrust at the devious gleam in his eyes.
He waits for me to speak up, but when I don't he says, "Well I'm glad you've chosen to accept my offer! I'll have you start today after your meal," he says. I wasn't really expecting any other kind of response from him. My stomache clenches itself with anxiety though; I don't want to be alone here in Briscoe's office cleaning everyday. It would meen I'd be forced to see him so much more often. So much for my plan of invisibility, that's gone flying out the window!
I was expecting Briscoe to have one of his men bring me down to the meal room, since it was time for everyone to eat, so I was suprised when Briscoe yanked me closer to him ruffly and clamped his hands over my eyes and shoulder before leading me out the room and down again.
Mickenna saw me the moment Briscoe shoved me into the meal room and left. Her eyes narrowed with concern as I walked over to her and the others sitting on the ground, all eating from a big tin soup bowl and stale cracker bin.
"What happened?" Mickenna asked me as I sat down.
"I've been maid Briscoe's little scullery maid now I guess," I shrugged and reached for a cracker. It tasted like sawdust, and believe me it does not taste too great.
Mickenna frowned in worry at me. I tried not to let it bother me. If she was worried, then there probably was something to worry about, but at the same time, I was trying to convince myself that everything was going to be alright.
When I couldn't stand it any longer I asked her "What is wrong Mickenna?"
She tapped her chin for a moment, pondering how to answer my question.
"I was thinking..." she began but her sentenced trailed off.
"What?" I asked.
"I was thinking...that we might be able to make some use out of this..." she said. I knew she referring to my new job cleaning Briscoe's office, but I was still lost.
"What do you meen?"
"I meen, that you should try to do some snooping around Briscoe's office while you're cleaning. Maybe you'll find something important that we could use."
"Like what?"
"I'm not exactly sure. That's why you need to look," she finished.
I didn't know what to think. I was terrified enough about having to clean the man's office, but searching through his belongings while doing so?
"I'm scared to do that Mickenna," I admitted.
"So are you going to do it or not?" she asks.
I think about it for a moment, looking at the eager expression on Mickenna's face that somewhat resembled hope. I didn't have the strength to crush that spark.
"Yes," was all I replied.
After meal, I was escorted back to Briscoe's office. I was told that the man himself, was out for the moment, but would come back before I left. I nodded as the escort left, and locked the door behind him.
The first thing I did was actually clean the room. It was nasty how much gunk and litter were scattered all around this little room. I don't even want to go into the specifics of how disgusting it was, except for more than once I found a dead rat or a pile of small animal bones burrowed under a mountain of junk.
It didn't take me as long as I thought it would have to clean everything. When the job was done, and I couldn't put it off any longer, I actually began to look at everything in the room surrounding me.
The man had a lot of books; the covers had been ripped off them all so I couldn't see the titles, but most of them were very thick and ranged from looking either very old and musty, to ones that almost looked fresh off the press.
There were glass vases and old clocks on the walls and drawersand boxes along the walls. I decided to look through those first before looking at the desk.
When I opened the first few drawers I found a few knives, and couple guns, some bloody rope, a notepad and box of pencils, so tape, a tie, another dead mouse, and a tin can of pins and needles. I didn't touch anything, and with every new drawer I opened, my head quickly darted back towards the door to make sure I was still alone.
I walked over to Briscoe's desk and opened the top and only drawer.
Inside I picked up some old photographs.
They were of children.
They were of circus children. The ones from the beginning. The ones from Mickenna's story.
They were all holding on to Briscoe, laughing and hugging him like he was a kind father. They were all smiling like they were all so happy, like they felt so loved.
Near the center of the photograph, I nearly cried out looking at young Mickenna looking up at Briscoe adoringly.
Accept for her, they were all dead. Every last one of them, all smiling in the photo, were gone.
Briscoe looked so happy there holding onto all they young children. What had changed to lead him to become the monster he is now? I don't see that monster on here.
The other photos are of later on in the circus; the ones where children's corpses lie in a bloody mountain, limbs hacked off, eyes gorged from the sockets and lips sewn messily together.
So much blood. So many red's.
Children screaming as they're lit aflame, others howeling as a rusty knife hacks off their fingers and toes, and carves pictures and words into the skin on their bodies.
I was trembling, my fingers fumbling over each photo. I could feel these children's pain. I could hear their cries and pleas for help.
The last photo- Briscoe holding grinning madly holding a dark red stained knife in one hand, and in the other was a young girl's head, dangling by her hair.
I almost vomited at the sight of it.
The door lock begin's to jingle, and in a panic I throw everything back in the desk and pretend to finish tidying up as Mr.Briscoe walks in.
"Ah good, you're finished! I'll have you brought here again tomorrow," he says wuickly in dismissal, coming over to shove me out the room, into one of his men's hands. I can tell by his tone and expression that he is excited for something. He doesn't even notice my hands that still haven't stopped trembling.
I don't know what he is so pleased about, but I know for certain that it couldn't meen anything good.
"Did you find anything?!" Mickenna pounces on me the moment we are all left alone again in our little cell room. She knocked me to the ground and sat on my stomache, leaning towards me in excitment.
"Just some weapons...and some old pictures," I say numbly. Mickenna's smile drains away, and her face clouds over.
"like what?"
"Pictures of the circus."
We were both silent for a moment. I watch Mickenna struggle to control the emotions on her face she doesn't want me to see.
"There was one of you and the other children from your story. The original circus children," I swallowed.
Mickenna glared at the floor.
"Mickenna, there were other pictures from later on, with all these poor children being tortured. I could barely look at them all. I was so scared Mickenna," I shake still looking up at her, because she still had me pinned to the ground.
"Oh Trisnae," Mickenna whispered and leaned down to rest her head on my chest, wrapping her small arms around me.
"Mickenna, why did Briscoe become like this?" I dared to ask. I felt her stiffen.
She pulls her head up so that way our eyes are only inches apart. The brilliant blue orbs are screaming with secrets that tell me that this was not the time for me to know the truth.
Why are the lies so much easier to believe?
But Mickenna wasn't going to lie to me now, but she also wasn't going to tell me the truth.
She cups her hand around my face, "We are going to do something Trisnae," she says determidly.
I look around at the other children in our little room. We've all been beaten, and tortured, and shredded of our dignity and humanity, leaving us empty shells.
We were all so sad that I wanted to cry.
I reached up and took the hand cupping my face and squeezed it tightly.
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HEY peoples thanks for reading!!!!
as usual (ahem ALWAYS) unedited.
Comment, vote, spread the word. All is much appreciated.
You guys are all awesome
I send you rhetorical chocolates. Any kind.
My favorite is 80% cocoa dark. MMMmmmmmm.
K bye.
-TheNinjaWriter