The circus that I worked at was unlike any other I had ever seen. I had worked there since I was thirteen. Ever since I had watched my parents be brutally murdered. I could still see their faces contorted with fear and agony as they screamed for help. I still hated myself for not opening the wood oven door, for not preventing them from being bludgeoned over the head. Instead I hid in a corner, away from the murderer. That was how I got my...."specialty". Seeing my parents die, that is. I can tell when people are going to die, and how. But, along with that power, I can just tell the future. Not down to the very last detail, but just the important things.
That's how I found Reg.
Reg is the ringleader, and pretty much my brother. I never had any siblings, my parent's were too busy. But this, this is how I would imagine a brother. I had many friends at the circus, Nell the contortionist, Lei the trapeze artist, but they weren’t as close as Reg. Reg is pretty young, 25 mabye, and has the softest, cleanest hair, even though Carnies can only shower once a week. He dyed his hair bright blue, and it is as blue as the ocean. He has a ton of piercings, all along his ears and eyebrows. Compaired to him, I’m pretty plain. Short black hair with two red streaks on my choppy bangs, a boring face, and a thin, small body. I’m sixteen, and I look like a twelve
year-old. It’s really sad, actually. The only noticable thing about me is my eyes. They’re a startiling, piercing blue, the type of blue that seems to look right through you. Sad looking eyes with huge pupils and eyelashes that only appear on the bottom lid. Even my name is really boring. Ella. Ella Star. My last name was made up so I sound more mysterious. And so I at least had one.
“Ella! Start getting ready!” Reg called from outside the trailer. I sighed, and then got prepared for the show. I ALWAYS paint my face white, with the clown crosses vertically down my face, then slashing across my cheekbones. Then I add four dots under my left eye, while one dot is over my right one. That’s how I look when I “read” someone. Of course, I have to dress the part. Usually, I just grab what ever I can and put it on. Today, it was a black tank with purple tights that had green spots. Then I added a poofy skirt and a few random accesories. It’s funny, really. Having to get SO dressed up for something so petty. It’s just not me.
When I hear stories about the kids that run away to join the circus, I just laugh. They think the circus is all fun and games. They think that the circus will just take them in and teach them everything how to be a Carnie. No. The circus does have a few kids who ran away, but that’s only because they have some talent the others don’t. But the circus isn’t going to take in a bunch of misfits with no talent, none the less teach them how to juggle or stilt. We heve enough of those already. And just forget the trapeze. I’ve been here for three years, I have the most talent, and they still haven’t even thought of teaching me how to work the trapeze. I wasn’t even going to try the trapeze. Not after what happened to Lei. She fell and landed on her hands. Both her wrists were broken, and she couldn’t use them for three weeks. Yeah, it’s not really for me, anyway. Not enough muscle. Or the guts.
