Circus music started to play. Crowds of people of all sizes and shapes lined up at the ticket booth to get seats for the show. Security guards stood erect and alert at the entrance, carefully checking the crowds for any riffraffs who would try to sneak in without paying. The colorful tent was bright with red, blue, and yellow lights coming from the center of the dusty arena. Bleachers surrounded the inside perimeter of the tent and colored lines indicated where people should sit. All of the bleachers filled up with humans eagerly anticipating the exciting event. Little children bounced in their seats while the adults hushed or scolded them to behave. Then a loud booming voice came from the announcer holding a megaphone.
"Come one, come all to Le Cirque de Monstres and see the bizarre and stunning, Winged Girl!"
Far above the increasing crowd a petite, dark haired girl stepped out onto a high pedestal after her introduction. Her whole fragile frame was trembling as she looked down at the hundreds of eyes staring up at her. The height made her head spin, she was always terrified of heights.
Scanning the large crowd she felt faint from all of the human eyes looking in her direction. Like she was a fascinating freak of nature, which she was. Her big dragon-like wings twitched with nervousness at the scene. Even though she's been through this a million times before she still felt like she was going to vomit from anxiousness.
"Why does he make me do this every show?" the girl whispered to herself in despair.
All shows started like this, a thrilling feat, which could end up fatal if she didn't get it right. Every single show she had to perform something that would excite the audience with a heart wrenching and jaw dropping piece. At least that's what her ring master forces her to do.
Suddenly a bright spotlight hit her and temporarily blinded her piercing green eyes. Her dragon-like pupils shrunk to thin slits from the light. Blinking a few times from the harsh glare she inhaled sharply and let out a long sigh. This was it, do or die. Literally.
Well, here goes nothing, the female sighed.
Turning her back on the crowd, she backed up to where the heels of her platform boots were barely over the edge of the pedestal. Heart pounding out of her chest, she slowly leaned back. Gravity claimed her and she fell, plummeting towards the hard dirt floor of the ring. A woman in the bleachers screamed with terror as the girl continued to fall to her death, but she couldn't hear it because of the blood roaring in her pointed ears.
Then, at the last split second before she hit the ground, her leathery black wings unfolded behind her back and she swiftly pulled up. The sea of people gasped in astonishment and cheered. The girl gracefully glided around the arena and came to a halt on a short perch in the middle of the ring. The cheering hadn't ceased.
The people in the front rows were so close to her that she could've reached out to touch them, but she never did, she was terrified of people as well as heights. One of the reasons she was like this was because of her physical appearance. She hated having wings because it made her feel different. She noticed that some of the children in the crowd were pointing fingers at her in either fright or amazement. The girl wished she could turn invisible or disintegrate so she wouldn't have to deal with their jeering comments or judgmental stares.
She heard soft footsteps coming up behind her and immediately tensed up. The person whom she was the most terrified of was the circus master, who was now walking out to her perch. He carried a long whip that he used on the animals, and on her when she messed up an act. Three lashes was her punishment, but sometimes it seemed that whenever he's mad or irritated at anyone he would always take it out on her. The treacherous whip left horrible scars on her back and arms, reminders of past failures.
