The Moth Tents

Night at the Circus

I don't really know what woke me up. My eyes open slowly and hesitantly, as if my eyelashes had been glued together.

The chains of drowsiness hold me back, and make my every move into a trial. I grab the alarm clock on the dresser, squinting as I read the time.

10:00.

I hear wind blowing, and notice the window is open. Then I look over at Penny's bed. Ruffled, unmade.

Empty.

I come to life, throwing back the covers and sitting up abruptly.

My eyes ricochet against every surface as I search in the darkness, the moon offering a white glow as a spotlight. But she's nowhere to be found.

I start to panic. I get up, pacing back and forth and frantically racking my mind to think of the possibilities. Where could she be?

I look for clues around the room. A glass lemonade bottle is lying on the floor, and books are stacked on top of each other in front of the dresser.

And there seems to be a crumpled up ball of paper lying on her bed, partly hidden by her quilt. I pick it up and carefully unravel it.

PRESENTING THE MOST FANTASTIC SHOW ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH- THE MOTLEY CIRCUS!

Oh no... I know exactly where she's going.

•••

The dry, tall grass tickles my knees as it blows through the wind and the dirt cools my feet as I breathe harshly, every gasp burning my lungs and making my throat.

I lean on the beam of the old water tower, and right ahead of me are a series of decoratively painted circus cars, unevenly surrounding a red and white circus tent.

Despite my heaving gasps for air, I push myself and jog around, weaving through the row of different cars.

I call out for Penny's name, my voice made hoarse from running so far. No response, other than the empty breeze.

The outside is deserted, and the cars that have exhibited "magnificent feats of strength" and "flame spouters" are closed down for the night, it seems.

I take a long stare at the entrance to the tent, pierced by circular spotlights waving around inside.

There's not much noise, no clapping sounds or cheering, no shadows against the tent's fabric, nothing that would signify a crowd.

Penny has to be inside there. I rush inside, and gape at what I see. Its even more magical yet plain, and more empty, than I'd imagined.

Foldable metal chairs are set out in neat rows, but each one is vacant. There are nets above me, and a wooden stage that the spotlights begin to center on.

The crimson red curtain shivers forebodingly. I look around to try and see if Penny is inside, but even if she was, everything but the stage has been cast in near total darkness.

A woman steps out, who looks to be in her 30s, wearing a provocative and glimmering silver dress that simply falls all the way to the ground.

A slit reveals a great deal of her leg and a pair of alarmingly red stilettos, and the straps are thin, exhibiting her bony, slim frame.

Her hair is short and curls inward, shining a pale white gold in the lights.

Her lips, made into a natural sort of smirk, are painted a shocking shade of red, almost the same as her shoes, and her eyes, framed by long eyelashes, gleam an almost clear green.

Her cheeks are sharp and rest high on her face, and her nose is built thin and acute, like her gaze.

All this gives an aura of mystery and authority to the woman, who looks out into the nonexistent crowd.
"Good evening," she says, her voice silky, smooth and dramatic.

"Tonight, you will see wonders the likes of which your eyes have never had the pleasure of resting upon. You will witness acts reserved only for God himself."

Her tone draws me in hypnotically, and my legs are weary. I think about pushing my worries to the back of head, but scold the selfish idea.

Penny is here somewhere, and I need to find her before something bad happens...

Gentle hands on my shoulders interrupt my train of thought, and I jump, surprised. They grip my arms and lead me to a seat.

I whip my head around and see the faces of two young girls around my age, but I can't make out distinct features because of the shadows that surround us.

My weary body gives in despite my efforts to resist, and they succeed in sitting me down in one of the chairs placed in the front row.

The woman on stage focuses on me now.

"I do present to you, the handsome young magician famed across the seas, The Magi," she says, waving her hands gracefully and backing out of the spotlight slow, letting another take her place.

A boy who looks to be around my age stands in the spotlight now. He was handsome, just as the lady had announced.

His wavy brown hair was slicked back, his jaw strong and defined.

He was very tall, much taller than me, and lean. His eyes were a dark , cloudy grey, and they seemed to take a peek into your very soul.

If his eyes were clouds, then the light cast on them acted as the lightning, morphing his gaze into a storm.

He moved across the stage lightly as if on air, dressed elegantly in a coatless crimson red tux accompanied by a matching bowtie, black suit pants and polished black church shoes.

The spotlight widened to show a box, painted rich navy blue and black with white and gold spots, meant to look like the night sky.

"I need a volunteer from the crowd," he said. If I wasn't so tired and my lungs weren't so sore, I probably would laughed at the irony that I was the crowd.

I didn't have time for this..I needed to find my sister... "Ah, you! You'll do just fine," he says. Again, the pair of hands take me, lifting me up.

My body feels so heavy... The lights start spinning. My brain feels like its pulsing against my skull, and I groan.

My legs start to shake and quiver uncontrollably. The red and white stripes of the tent mix together like ribbons of vanilla and strawberry cream in a milkshake.

Everything goes black.