Muerte's Circus

Prologue

The midnight view of the town would be gorgeous, except for the fact I can’t see it because of my tears. And my stunning, usually green-eyed daughter, who is bawling so loudly it makes my heart break in two, has red eyes and is kicking her stubby legs in the basket, making it difficult to carry under my arm. It’s late, it’s cold, and she only has her Sunday best on, a flimsy piece of mock-satin.

I’m wandering up and down the orphanage road, and every time I pass that dreadful place I stop, about to walk up the stairs but I can’t do it. I say to myself ‘Ariah doesn’t deserve that,’ and keep going. At the end of the road I stop and turn back saying ‘I have no money, I can barely keep myself alive.’

I go up and down for about 2 hours, before I decide I need my daughter to be brought up in a house, with a roof, food, and company. What was I thinking, she can’t stay with me. Every night I sleep between two dustbins in a dirty alleyway.

I dry my eyes, take one look at my beautiful baby girl, and burst into tears again.

“Come on, Rosalyn, get over yourself. You know she can’t stay with you.” I carry on trying to persuade myself why she doesn’t deserve me. I cry some more. Correction, I cry a lot more.

I pull Ariah out of her basket and hug her. I pull the pre-written tag out of my pocket and slip it around her wrist, tying it tighter. One last embrace, a kiss on the cheek, and I gently put her in the basket again.

I walked up those stairs slowly, very slowly, savouring every chance I have with Ariah. But the door came too quickly.

The dim light outside those big intimidating doors made me feel like I needed to drop the basket, ring the bell and run. And that is just what I did.

But I came back. I peeked around the corner of the brick building next to the orphanage and saw a burly female adult open the door. I saw her look at the tag on Ariah’s wrist, and she looked like she’s about to rip it off, but doesn’t. The woman had read the tag.

And I know she read “Ariah Rosalyn Emerson. Ego vobiscum.”