Predictions

Chapter 1

Mathilda sighed as she finally heard the sound of all the rides shutting down around the carnival. It was a little after 3:00 AM, and it was finally closing time. God, she was tired, she thought as she pulled her greying hair out of her turban. She grabbed her crystal ball and cash box and left the tent. She couldn't keep anything in the tent, as even if she was friends with some of the carnies, they taught her early on that they still wouldn't hesitate to steal from her.

At least she was old enough (20 damn years in this place doing the same act every day) to have her own trailer. Only permanent acts got their own trailer. The temps and the workers slept in crowded bunk beds. She still had to room with a contortionist, but she was alright. It was funny how excited the flexible woman (practically a girl at her age) was. Newbies were always a nostalgic experience, reminding Mathilda of when she first decided that she would never be happy in society, squandering her psychic gift. Even so, the carnival was losing its lustre after so many years.

It seemed that as the days went by, people were getting more and more drunk before visiting the fair. She was still happy that she took the night shift, as drunken adults were much more likely to want their future read. Even if she wasn't a true oracle, she could still get a good idea of what was headed their way by looking into their heads.

It took her a good fifteen minutes to make her way to the campground where the trailers were set up. Even with all her experience, it still set her on edge when she had to walk through the darkened rides and mess left behind. It made her feel (on the one hand) so alone, but at the same time as if people were watching her from the shadows. It must have been the stark contrast between the scene only a few hours before, when everything was well-lit and alive. 

Shrugging, she continued on through the maze of homes, a heavy reminder of the trailer-parks where she grew up, with laundry hanging out and several doves tethered nearby at the magician's home. She didn't go to her trailer right away, preferring to stop and chat about how the day had gone with Charlene, the tattooed lady. Charlene was one of the only people who had been there before Mathilda that had stayed here, most of the others having left the circus or died since. She'd always had a special bond with Charlene, who had helped her raise her two little girls. Charlene was a voice of reason for almost everyone, and seemed to have a very motherly sort of role, despite her appearance. She had even offered to come back with Mathilda to her trailer and just hang out. Mathilda shrugged her off, saying she just wanted to read a cheesy romance novel she'd bought at a rest stop earlier that day. Charlene, not about to object, simply handed her a bottle of cheap whiskey and told her to have herself a good time.

As she entered the dark trailer, Mathilda automatically noticed the red digits of the clock stating 3:18 AM, the only lights in the trailer. It was a bit strange, as normally Lara, her contortionist roommate was usually up even later than her. Figuring that she was just going to get up for an early practice, she paid no mind to the form lying down in the bunk above hers as she stripped down and put on a nightgown. Mumbling out an absent goodnight, she decided to just try to get to bed. Even if they had their own space, it was small, and she had been woken more than once by Lara trying to subtly turn on a light to read or play cards. It took some time, but after going over some of the most mundane lives she could remember out of the blur that had streamed through her tent over the past week, she finally started to feel the gentle tugging of her eyes closing as she saw a form slip down from the top bunk.

Rolling over in the anticipation of the light being turned on, she wearily called out: "Lara, please don't be up too much longer. It's been a hell of a long day." She closed her eyes, and felt herself drifting off again. Lara hadn't turned on the light yet, and Mathilda hoped to go to sleep before Lara did.

"You know, you really should be more careful." The male voice made her confused, but the clicking of a gun's safety made her realize what was going on. She quickly sat up in bed, looking over. She couldn't make out much in the faint light from a nearby trailer, but she could see enough. There was a man in a black ski mask. In fact, his entire attire was black, including gloves. She could barely see his icy blue eyes, which seemed to light up when he saw her frightened face.