Writer's Games: Carnival

Task Two [Female Entries]

EVANGELINE LORE

Hail Mary,

Full of grace,

The lord is with thee

Blessed art thou amongst women

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb,

Jesus

I am not sure why, but whenever I find myself in a time of need, Saint Mary is the one to whom I pray. I've always felt a certain connection with her, though my own son is no martyr - in fact, he's barely connected to our good religion. But she's a mother too, and I think that, to some extent, all mothers understand each other's lot. The love we bear our children never changes, after all; the only thing that varies is the circumstances in which we are tested. 

Today, my prayers do not lie with Richard - at least, not as much as usual. I pray to the Mother that he is alright, and that he will not do anything stupid when he hears what has happened to us. For the most part, however, my thoughts lie to the world itself. It is not uncommon for me to think of it, but I do not usually know firsthand what the world needs. Typically, I just pray to end war and hunger and bring Our Lord to everybody. Now, however, I have a set goal in mind.

"Don't you have better things to do?" asks Zachary, somewhere behind me. "Like, I don't know, sleeping?"

I ignore him.

I have always said that my greatest fear was to see the world lose all sense of order and justice. Today I have been faced with said fear; that would leave its mark on anybody. Chaos ruled today, from the frenzy when the owners of this carnival decided it was a bright idea to play hide and seek to the disgust that had coursed through me when I saw the first death. I had never thought it possible that man could kill man merely for enjoyment, and yet that was exactly what had happened today. There had been no regret in their faces. All I could see was joy and glee.

The boy had been but a child, a fact which disgusts me more than I ever would have deemed possible. He'd tried hiding on the bumper car track, but as soon as they had seen him, they had activated the cars. The boy thought it would be safer to hide amongst the moving carts then to risk discovery, and so he stayed. One of the cars ran him over, leaving him flat as a pancake. When I close my eyes, I can still hear his panicked scream as his last moment drew near. If I try hard enough, I can still hear the crunching of his bones as he met his maker.

The girl had been older than Richard, something which was greatly reassuring; I do not think I could have stood watching another child suffer. She had tried climbing the Ferris wheel behind us, but had fallen to her death a few reaches from the top. As a girl, I often went mountain climbing with my parents as a part of a pilgrimage. Zachary, according to Richard, had been the rock climbing champion at their school. Apparently the two of them had once set the record for the hardest climb by reaching the top, handcuffed together, both blindfolded. We had been far more prepared to climb the wheel than she.

"Are you okay, Mrs. Lore?"