Marianna Faigon was born the daughter of Doctor Roland Faigon and Josephine Marx Faigon. Up until now her life has been routine, but after witnessing her mother death a great and horrifying power is growing in her. Will it make her a hero or the dar...
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So many things I remembered in my life, but I wondered if those memories were really mine, what Madam Olga said about my mother dying. I had the memory, but until now, not the emotion. Many memories I possessed, but I didn't feel like I was connected to them. I can't recall my last memory before coming into the care of Carla Benson. I just knew something terrible had happened. Madam Olga saw it, too. I know she did. It was a memory I didn't want to face, so I ran. With all this noise, it was hard to hear myself think. Circus spectators pushed and shoved, but through all the noise I heard Carla's voice.
"Marianna," she called. She pushed passed a few people, until she was standing next to me. "Where have you been? There are too many people here. It's much too easy to get lost."
She shoved back her shoulder length blond hair. Her makeup was starting to fade, and I could see her lipstick clumped in the natural creases of her lips. She wore her blue jeans, a white tank top, and a pair a white tennis shoes. Although on this dirty campground, the sides of her white shoes were turning to gray. I noticed she was wearing her blue cotton jacket. The evening had brought much cooler temperatures. I could still see the brightness of her blue eyes. It had been a bit windy, so her hair looked a fright.
I didn't look much better. My dark hair was slowly coming out of the ponytail I had put it in earlier that day, and my clothes had a bit of dirt on them. I wore black as I always did. Carla always tried to get me to put more color in my wardrobe, but I refused.
"I'm sorry, Carla," I said, feeling a bit guilty. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"It's quite all right," she said, the cheeriness in her voice returning. "I was about to get us something to eat. Are you hungry?"
"No," I said, and she looked disappointed. Even though I hadn't eaten since breakfast, the hunger pangs had not hit me. "I'd rather look around for a while if that's all right?"
"Sure," she said with a smile on her face. "Whatever you want." Carla didn't look like she wanted me to leave, but I wanted to be on my own a bit longer. The meeting with that strange women still haunted me, and I didn't want Carla to see it. "I'll wait for you in the food court." I nodded at her statement. "I'll meet you in about an hour?"
"Fine," I said, refusing to look at her. Carla Benson was such a good-hearted woman. Sometimes I wondered why she put up with me. After all, she wasn't my mother.
I continued my walk, disgusted by the mocking induced upon the human intellect.
"Step right up!" One of the vendors called out.
Those annoying words were repeated over and over again. What does it really mean? "Sucker, give us your money," I said in a low voice so no one would hear me.
I looked to the south side of the circus grounds when a large yellow tent with orange swirls printed on it caught my eye. There was a man in a silly costume shouting idle words. I walked swiftly to see what all the fuss was about. The entrance to the tent was made of carved wood with an orange tiger painted on it. The opening looked as if you were walking into his mouth waiting to be devoured.
To Be Continued...
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Marianna is about to meet someone who will change her life in the next part.
