The Pretty Poison

PART 11 - Chapter 7

PART 11 - Chapter 7

“Wake up!” My shoulder is shaken with urgency but my bones are too weary to want to awaken. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

“What?” My sluggish question is soon answered by my own mind when I realize what’s going on. The show is almost over and I have yet to perform. My body scrambles to stand causing great nausea and dizziness. The room feels as if it’s moving under my feet and my mind can’t catch up with its pace. “Shit!”

I stumble back and land in the arms of who woke me. Rick smirks down on me in a questioning manner.

“Are you even able to stand?” His words feel unintentionally offensive as he yanks me up, making me sway before finding my balance. I push back my shoulders in defiance and prove I could keep to my feet, but when my hair falls into my face and I try to shake it away, the floor moves once more. Rick calls over Mr. Huntsdale and leads me back to the chair just moments ago I had been sleeping on. A giant headache racks my brain, no matter how much I massage my fingers though my hair.

“And this is why we let you sleep,” he says as the Ringmaster brings over a small washcloth. It felt so cool against my forehead, I thought the compress would start steaming. It sure woke me up from my little cat nap.

“I’m fine. Give me five minutes I’ll be good as new.” They look to each other and I saw in both of their faces they hardly believe a word I am saying. I stand and spin in proof, controlling my wobbling enough to make my words convincing. The ache in my head is unbearable but I pretend I don’t wince, though my empty stomach is still trying to purge itself of that strange liquid. “I can still do it. Please?”

Mr. Huntsdale rubs my shoulder and gives me one of those smiles that parents give to children whose pets have passed. I stand on my toes with folded hands in anticipation while he deliberates. The show is the only time where I can feel special and loved. It’s where I shine bright and I get all the attention that I usually don’t want. In a childish way of explaining, it’s wrapped in happiness and drizzled in acceptance. The show is my life!

“I can’t let you,” Mr. Huntsdale says after a few moments. “You’re too ill.”

He looks from Rick to me and sighs, knowing his disappointing blow. I drop to my heels and all the tension in my body disappears except in my hands. Defeat feels like my soul is stretched out of my body yet still attached to my heart. The strings connecting them are so taunt, I could play a melody of such sorrow on the cords.

Mr. Huntsdale turns to look over his shoulder as he hears music from the Rings begin to fade. He takes his leave and gives me a small hug before disappearing through the tent’s flap. I can hear his voice boom to the audience shouting about the next performer. Paulette does a final stretch before she backflips out of the waiting area and I’m left with Rick away from the others.

I stay at the seat and fold my legs on the chair as I had in my dream. This feels worse than the nightmare. A numbing sensation crawls into my muscles and tears at the nerves. It is nothingness and depression. I can’t feel anything.

“That was great,” yells a voice to my right. The circus performers gather round in one circle and all look to the center of tonight’s attention. I crane my head to see the person they’re talking to but I already can guess who. It’s our wonderful Lightning Feather, the greatest archer to grace your presence. At least that’s what her entrance tells the audience.

My castmates used to congratulate me. They used to say how well I had improved and how much stronger I had become. They would lather me in compliments that I hated but loved in the same way. Now, I am here only with Rick who seems busied with his own thoughts and heavy breathing.