The Sword Swallower

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The Sword Swallower

“Bentley, c’mon, we’re gonna miss the sword swallower!”

I grab my cousin’s hand half-heartedly as she drags me to a different part of the carnival. It comes into town each year, having the same performances, same shows, same rides, same food stands - all in the same exact spot. I’m serious. If you lifted up one of the food carts you’d see a dent in the ground from the previous years it‘s been here.

My little seven year old cousin knows this place like the back of her hand. She knows it corner to corner, end to end. She comes here every year, and this time, I was the one stuck bringing her. My aunt had some errands to run, so me, being the nice person I am, agreed to bring her to the carnival.

Big mistake.

All there is are screaming, stinky little kids running around with cotton candy glued to their faces. It smells like horse dung, mostly because horses are everywhere. It’s not even a nice day out; there’s clouds brewing around the sky.

I’m suddenly brought to a halt. There’s a small crowd of people filing around, including me and my cousin. We’re in the front of the circle. In the middle of it all is a large circular platform with a faded out yellow star on it. Next to it, is a stand that’s holding a bunch of sharp-looking swords.

“It’s gonna start any minute now,” My cousin murmurs in awe, staring at the star.

And then action-mystery music, the type they usually play for magicians (now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure it’s the same music they played for magician Derek we saw twenty minutes ago) is being pumped through some of the stands nearby. It’s not the best music, but I guess it’ll work for this guy.

A guy then makes his way past us, brushing into my arm. I stare at him until he gets to the star in the front of the crowd. He’s not what I thought he was going to look like. He’s young; my age, at the most. There’s black tattoo patterns swirling down both of his arms, that disappear underneath his black shirt. His jeans are black too. Hell; even his hair and boots are the same dark color.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” His dark voice quiets the crowd of people. His grey eyes are looking around the crowd, silencing them all. “I will now attempt to swallow a sword.”

Some of the rather stupid people gasp. I just roll my eyes and cross my arms. He dramatically grabs one of the swords, sliding his finger against the blade. He does a couple twirls with it here and there for the show. And then he steps back on his star and does what he does.

The sword goes down slow. He gets it down, though. You can see it pressing through his shirt, pressing against the inside of his chest. Some people grimace, gasp, do whatever. This includes my little cousin.

But I’ve see better.

He then takes it out, and bows when he receives a little bit of clapping (My cousin is pretty much the only one). “And now, I will attempt….five swords!”

I raise an eyebrow. I’ve seen better shit on America’s Got Talent. So it gets silent as he grabs four more, then hops back on his star. He shoves down one at a time. The first two go down with ease. For show, he makes the third one get stuck a little bit. You can still see them pressing on the hollow of his throat, his chest, his stomach. It looks painful. The other two get down, and he slowly spins around for the whole crowd to see.

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