Queen of Chaos

Leila

When I wake up I am dazed, wet and cold, cold, cold. The sorrow-filled violinist has stopped playing and only the stars wink at me from the sky. The longer I lie in the mud, the more sensitive my ears grow and I listen closer to the night that I thought was silent.

I hear girlish giggling, jesting yells and occasionally an animal roaring. I suppose a circus is never silent. Knowing I should move, yet not able to find the strength I continue to lie on my back, gazing at the stars.

The twinkling lights smirk down at me and I wonder how many of them are died out orbs still glowing. Similar possibly to a dead girl still living, living, living.

There is an ear piercing scream that breaks my reverie and I am sprinting towards the lights of the circus.

A circle of people are situated in the middle of the tents, crowded around the source of the screams. "My dress!!! It's ruined!! You fucking buffoons!" I freeze, mere feet from the circle of people and there is a clear line drawn: me, them. The scream that reminds of so many past screams was over a dress?

Through a small gap between an impossibly tall man and one of the crew I see into the circle. It is the petite blonde girl who habitually attaches herself to William's arm. Knelt gracefully beside her is a figure dressed solely in red and my heart aches, aches, aches at the sight of him. His strong profile sends shivers over me and I watch hypnotized.

"Ezmerelda, darling we can get you a new dress. I apologize for the crew's unforgivable mistake and I beg your forgiveness," her large blue eyes turn towards him with as much admiration as my own.

"Your new dress will be infinitely better than this one. A dress fit for a queen or more importantly, for such an amazing girl as yourself, for a goddess." My heart constricts as I remember him addressing my names affiliation with goddesses... but his voice was not this gentle towards me.

"Yes a much better dress, fit for a goddess such as myself..." she trails off in her dreamy, dazed, darling voice. The ring leader stands in one fluid, graceful motion and claps his hands together.

"Although the show is never over for my circus this particular show is. Back to work everyone!" He strides off towards the largest tent and the crowd begins to disperse. Ezmerelda continues to sit there in a trance, staring at the spot where the ringleader once crouched. Finally, a small girl tugs on a strand of her hair and the spell shatters.

Ezmerelda stands and leaves the soiled, ruined dress behind her.

The laughing and music and overall glee picks up and yet I stand there feeling truly alone for not the first and definitely not the last time. The entrance to the ringleader's tent flaps in the heavy breeze and I catch glimpses inside: the warm candlelight, the dark mahogany desk, the ringleader shedding his shirt. A voice behind me makes me jump 10,000 feet into the air and I turn with what I hope is an innocent look.

The owner of the voice is a stranger to me, but nearly everyone here is. "Hello there, Eris is it?" She is a beautiful creature, several inches taller than myself and infinitely more gorgeous. Long wavy brown hair paired with her mischievous, doe like eyes makes her exotically beautiful. The grace in even the smallest movements has me pegging her for a dancer, yet her melody voice claims her a singer. And she has asked me a question...what was it?

"Oh yes that's me. Eris." I slam the brakes on my voice before I babble and can't help but notice the husky tone to my voice that contrasts her delicate, clear speaking.

"I was wondering when we would finally meet. I am always fascinated by the strays my brother convinces the ringleader to keep," she elevates the word ringleader in almost a mocking way. Is it possible that perhaps someone has escaped his spell? That is encouraging and I instantly find myself drawn to this snarky, mischievous beauty.

"Oh is your brother Tommy?" She nods with a grin and examines my puzzlement. "But you don't have an accent like him?" I mean for it to be a statement but it comes out a question and I hate, hate, hate my never ending hesitation.

She laughs and I feel as if everyone in the whole circus turns an ear to listen. "Well I have grown out of my slummy roots and become more improved and refined," she lays heavy sarcasm on 'improved' and 'refined'. The more she speaks the more I find myself leaning closer, eager for her next words. She just has the type of voice that draws you in like moths to a fire. And I fearlessly flap my wings eagerly towards the flames.

Matching her lighthearted smile I say stupidly, "At least one good one came from the batch. One out of two is decent odds." Quickly I regret my words, guilty at having insulted my only friend; however, she throws her head back without restraint and a tinkling, musical laugh spills forth into the night. This time I am nearly positive the circus pauses to soak in the magnitude of her hypnotic giggle.

"Oh I rather like you Eris! You are simply delightful!" I feel myself standing taller beneath her praise and she offers me her hands. "I am Leila by the way." I take her hand, unsure whether I should shake it or curtsy in her grandiose presence. In the end I settle for a pathetic shake which she takes for more of my spunky charm.

"Come Eris! Let us eat together." She tugs on my hand which I realize with shame is covered in mud and grit. As she leads me away I feel eyes on my back and I half turn to see the ringleader watching with dark eyes from the gap in his tent flaps. Our eyes connect for a brief moment and I shiver in the breeze. There is no warmth in his gaze. Only warning.