Freakshow

Prologue

The girl ran faster than she'd ever run before. She could feel the tall, dry grass whipping the tender skin on her pudgy legs, but she didn't care. The sensation of the wind in her hair and the rush of blood in her ears was too intoxicating.

Sweet freedom.

"Olivia," her mother called from the back door, "where are you sweetie? I've got lunch."

She didn't turn back, she wanted to escape and this was her only chance.

She couldn't stand being caged any longer, she couldn't stand being confined to play in the living room, child gates up preventing her from moving more than ten feet in any direction.

She was four now, she needed to feel the wind in her hair and the earth under her feet. Grandma always said she needed to touch the ground to develop her gifts. That always made Mom angry, and they fought.

Olivia didn't care about their fighting though, she just wanted to be free.

Her mom had let her take ten minutes in the back yard as long as she'd promised she wouldn't go farther than the garden gate.

"Olivia," mom called again, her voice had that hysterical tinge to it that Olivia hated. "Baby, where are you?"

She stopped running and turned back to the house. She was well into the wheat field where her dad would be doing the fall harvest. She could hear the harsh thump of the heavy machines in the distance.

Dad was miles away though, and Olivia was farther from the house than she'd ever been on her own.

The thrill, it was too much.

She was tired, her legs wanted to move, but her body was starting to give up. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and even then she'd only nibbled on a piece of homemade bread with thick rhubarb preserves.

Her body needed more fuel, just like those tractors.

She heard her mom screaming her name now, and she knew she'd be in big trouble when she was found.

She ran a little farther and found a nice clump of wheat, lay down and closed her eyes, ignoring the continued pleas of her mom to come home. The earth felt so good under her hands, she pressed her fingers into the dirt and felt like she was flying.

* * *

"Olivia," Dad's voice was very loud and came from very near. Olivia had just been having the most wonderful dream about racing through the forest

She rubbed her eyes and stretched her legs. She felt better; less tired and thought she might try to run again.

She got up and gave a little kick, her legs were great and her body felt revitalized, the time spent with her fingers in the dirt had done the trick. It seemed Grandma was right in this respect.

She looked around and started to run away from her dad's voice, knowing the trouble she'd be in if he caught her now.

She had no plan, but knew she didn't want to give up this thrill quite yet.

She hit the edge of the wheat field and stood on gravel. She was momentarily confused. She spotted their house on the other side of the low, long barn where they kept their few dairy cows. She was in their driveway. The roundabout they used for loading machinery and grain.

She decided she'd spend some time in the barn before going back, she loved the smell of the cattle and the way they looked at her with their big, kind eyes.

She pushed herself faster, concentrating on the sliding door at the end, not paying attention to anything on either side of her.

It happened with a thud. Later the man in the truck swore he'd never seen her, and she hadn't comprehended the flash of the headlights and the roar of the engine in time to get out of the way.

She pitched forward, landed on her belly and got a face full of dirt.

She looked up and saw his long, white face in a grimace of horror. She would have laughed at him if she'd been able to move.

She tried to push herself up, but couldn't make her arms work.

She tried to kick, to get her body off the ground, but her legs weren't moving.

Olivia started to scream, not for any reason other than simple frustration that her bid for freedom was over.

The man in the truck, it turned out, was kindly Mr. Jacobs' son, Ryan. He had come to help look for her out in the wheat.

Her parents came racing over, her Daddy looked more scared than Ryan, and Mommy was screaming louder than Olivia herself.

"I'm sorry mom," Olivia said, "I just wanted to run."

"This is why you have to stay inside. Oh my god, I should have never let you out," Mommy started to sob and placed her sweater under her.

She saw Grandma's worried face looking at her over her mom's shoulder. "Let her touch the ground," Grandma said, "She can fix this if you let her dig her toes in the earth."

"I'm not putting her in the dirt," mom spat and hunched over Olivia, as if to keep her from her Grandma's prying eyes.

"Call the god damned ambulance," her dad bellowed and the small group that had assembled all broke apart as they ran to get help.

He knelt in the dirt next to Olivia and stroked her hair. "You're not like other kids, baby girl," he said, "you're going to be okay, but you have to be more careful."

"I just wanted to play outside," Olivia said and wondered where all the blood had come from, her dad's arm was covered in it and it stained her mom's pretty white blouse a bright red. It was such a pretty blouse, usually so bright and billowy. Olivia felt shame that she might have made it dirty as it occurred to her where the blood came from.

She knew blood scared people, but it didn't bother her, it never had, but that much had to come from somewhere.

She managed to edge herself up against her dad's legs and he held her there until they heard the sirens in the distance.

"What are we going to do with her?" her mom asked nobody in particular. "She'll never be normal."

"Let her touch the ground!" her Grandma's voice came again, harsh and demanding. Olivia's mom winced at the sound of it.

"Stay out of this!" her mom yelled.

"Why are you so mad at me?" Olivia asked, "I said I was sorry."

"I'm not mad, baby," her mom replied and smiled at her, but her eyes still leaked tears, "I'm scared."

Olivia struggled to sit up and noticed her arms and legs were all at strange angles. She tried to concentrate on moving her big toe, but nothing happened, her little sparkly running shoe didn't shift. She did catch sight a big thing jutting from her leg. It was long, jagged, and the prettiest shade of light pink.

"What's that?" she asked and tried to point. She noticed them jutting from her lower arm and other leg too.

"Those are your bones, baby," her mom said and started to cry again, "we've told you, you're not like other kids. You don't feel pain."

Olivia didn't understand what her mom meant by pain. She'd never understood what her parents had meant, and she had the multiple scars to prove it.

From burns on the stove to gouged shins from walking into the corner of the coffee table repeatedly, none of it ever bothered her and she didn't understand why everybody around her got so weird about it.

As long as her body worked, she was fine. As long as it healed and her legs moved and her arms swung, and she could do what she liked, pain meant nothing to her.

This was the first time it registered though. Pain meant sometimes your body didn't work right, and that angered Olivia. She wanted to run and play and jump, she wanted to feel vital and whole.

For the first time in her life, she was afraid. She started to cry and her Dad held her tighter, whispered to her that everything would be all right.

And for the first time in her life, she didn't quite believe him.