Boy Who Broke In My Window

IV-Carnival Catastrophe

I spot an ice cream cart that formerly arrived not distant away, and wanted one for myself. I gesture towards Howard, as if beckoning that I want one. He sighs but nods anyway "Wait here", he says bolting away, disappearing inside the previous alley.
In the spur of a moment, he returns with a triumphant grin spread across his face. "Let's go" He states in a buoyant attitude.

The moment we get there, there's already a long queue of children ahead, yearning for their ice cream. I can't help but to notice how the majority of the kids have perfectly-shaved heads with utterly no naughty hairs peeking out; those that don't are prominently girls.

I pout at him, upset about the waiting line, and he apparently gets my message a little twisted. He was already a giant to the little dudes at six feet, and he definitely took advantage of his towering stature.

He mercilessly kicks those bobbing heads away like soccer balls, sending them off the grounds, flying like paralyzed chickens, as if clearing the path for beloved Princess Astrid. Hey, at least he didn't utilize them as stepping stones and hop on their shiny little heads one after another.

There are a bunch of pedestrians that noticed, yet kept to themselves. The ice cream man, on the other hand does not give a damn as long as it doesn't trim his wage. The pool of defeated eight-year-olds grumbles and protests that we're seemingly cutting the line. Although, Howard did reason with those exasperated kids like a total smart-ass, "We're not cutting the line; we're just being ultra-efficient."

---

"Which would you like?" The ice cream guy asks displaying a jaded expression.
"Anything you'd recommend" Howard answers.
"AN EXTRA LARGE CHOCOLATE FUDGE RIPPLE!" I eagerly reply.
"We sell regular-sized portions. Only."
"Make that 2 then!" I insist, breaking a dimple smile.

I feel Howard lean towards me and poke me in the cheek with his index, "Aw! You've got dimples!" he squeals in a girlish demeanor. I immediately smack his hand away from charity-touching my face, "Stop poking my face you pathogen-infested mammal! I'm charging you a dollar next time you touch it!" I threaten.

He raises both arms up in the air in surrender with a guiltless expression. The man hands us our treat and we take off skipping with our ice cream on hand after he paid. While I skim the zone to find something that may set Howard broke in an instant, I notice a puddle of gooey reddish mud in front of me.

I'm glad I noticed, therefore I won't slip or anything like that.
Or so I thought...

It happened like a flash; I slipped.
Slithered dirty muck all along the path.

I was wearing a baggy shirt that hangs just below my bum, and now it's stained in filth!
Fortunately enough, my pajama pants are not wretched like my shirt is.

IT LOOKED LIKE PERIOD IS BURSTING OUT OF MY BUM.
Not just as pecks of stain; but it literally looks like period is rupturing out my bum! When, it's really JUST THE MUD.

"Are you hurt?!" Howard asks helping me up.
I angle my body in a way that my back is facing him, and he gasps in shock. "You have a something freaky on your bum" He says in one short breath.

Excuse me?"

"What I meant was; do you need me to go buy you tampons?" He implies.
I in turn, roll my eyes at him, making his cheeks blaze up in shades of red.
"I don't need goddamn tampons! It's the mud you immature pervert!" I exclaim with a straight face.

He takes off his flannel shirt he had on as a cardigan, "Here, change into it, otherwise you'll catch a cold" he offers. It's pretty chilly at the moment despite the scorching sun. I guess he's being a little nice; he's only wearing one thin layer beneath his cardigan.

I end up having to use the public restroom to change into the flannel, and as anticipated, the chamber pot-or what I call Mr. Crapper is contaminated with crap.
Worse, it's bespattered everywhere within its walls.

The person who'd done this must have been up all night expelling their browns in raging stamina.
I hesitated to use the restroom initially, yet Howard assured me that he uses public toilets very frequently and that I'm not going to end up with giant explosive warts on my bottom.

---

We have been walking for roughly twenty minutes, destination; wherever. We basically got stranded overtime because all our attention had been focused on calling each other affronting names; we call it 'the war of insults'.

We see a junction not distant away and decided on a random path, in which we find ourselves walking through the boulevards of some rich neighborhood. There, I spot an ongoing carnival and my eyes instantly twinkle with elation. It's been years since I've gone to a so-called 'carnival'.

"Can you buy me a ticket?" I straightaway ask with pleading eyes, pointing my index towards the jolly carnival. He reaches inside his jeans to check whether we've got just enough cash for that.

"Why not?" he winks, grinning, in which I roll my eyes to. "I think we've got just enough"

I squeal and scamper away in ecstasy.

We'd experienced the majority of rides, entertaining games and some uncanny foodstuff, but there's only one ride in particular, that clings onto me.

We had got strapped onto the roller coaster; I thought it was going to be fun and I'm going to be walking away from the ride with a satisfied grin. But well, it was a horrific ride; I am not used to my body being tossed around like a Ping-Pong ball.

All I can think about now was how I was clawing Howard throughout the entire ride. It was so spine-chilling; I was choking on my own vomit of dread while I was being spun around.
When it ended though, I thought I had split my ears; people were drying their tongues out screaming. Not a roller coaster, but a Let's-Kill-an-Astrid-Coaster.

I slump my body out of the ride seats, relieved that the terror is over. While I'm here limping, Howard's back up on his feet like normal. He slings an arm over my shoulder as if to help support my weight and clings onto me.
I feel his warmth press onto me in a pacifying way, through the thin fabric of his flannel. His soft breaths and light murmurs sweep through my ears, and across my face like serene gusts of wind.

Bah abah ababah abah bah; what I heard him say, until his voice became distinct and I realized that he was telling me how much I'm wobbling like a dying goat.

I wanted to hammer his head yet my own feels paralyzed. My joints are becoming numb and I faint on the asphalt, face first; as usual.
I was openly awake but too lightheaded that my body isn't. He sees my frail figure lying helplessly and picks me up, this time with precision; very watchful and wary not to break me. How does he make me feel so temperate even in a breezy late afternoon like this?

Hold on... AFTERNOON!?