Panem Et Circenses

One.

Panem Et Circenses

One.

                I still remember the first day I stepped foot there. It was a day filled with both joy and sorrow. Which was better, I have yet to figure out.  Even now, as long as I’ve been here, the question still dawns on me. Was this a good thing, or bad? Many wouldn’t give it a second thought, yet many people are pessimists.  They are ignorant, arrogant, selfish, and much more, but I would rather not specify. The man who killed my parents was all three. For that, he suffers here with me. No escape. No mercy. All of us freaks.

e f

“Josephine, get up.” A rough voice said barely above a whisper into my ear. My eyes opened immediately, while the rest of my body stayed deathly still.

                I took a breath, unneeded, and stared into the rough face of Bernard. He wore a tired look on his usual emotionless face. I narrowed my eyes at him before reaching up and slowly pushing his face away from mine. 

“Josephine, it’s almost time for the show. You’re not ready,” He said, a little louder this time, annoyance laced his tone.

                I put both of my hands on the wooden boards, propping myself up from where I was sleeping. I looked him right in the eyes, narrowing my own light grey ones.

“And you’re hung-over. Now get out of my face!” I spat back at him.

                He backed away immediately. I looked over at him icily and rolled my eyes.  He was a hopeless mess of a person. I stood up and smoothed my black dress out before ordering Bernard over to tighten my corset. He fumbled with moving my messy, dark hair over. I patiently stood there as he tightened it, his hands shaking slightly. What did he expect me to do? Kill him or something? Yea we might have a mutual hatred for each other, or a mutual respect, but I could never do anything to actually hurt him.

                Just as he had finished, a head covered in a scarf popped in. I acknowledged them before motioning for Bernard and following the covered person out of our canvas tent.

                The moon shone clear and bright in the crisp mid-summer air. Bernard disappeared somewhere, leaving me to walk to the Big Top alone. I looked left, and right, at all the people emerging from their own traveling tents. A real batch of freaks if you ask me. Scowling at nobody in particular, I pushed the back flap of the Big Top open, shoving a couple people over in the process. When they went to say something, I quickly turned on my heels.

“If you know what’s good for you, don’t say a word,” I hissed. Immediately they backed away. I narrowed my eyes to make sure they got the message before turning back around.

                I could hear the bustling of people from the other side of the curtains. Oh how I loathed this. Some people exchanged nervous glances, others sneered. As if they were better than anyone else. We all were freaks. Bernard suddenly became himself and stood in front of the twenty or so people crowded around. Even after all these years, it was weird to see Bernard act like this. He was always so terrified of me, even if he was the reason I am who I am today.

                I folded my arms and stuck my nose in the air at a certain smell. The smell of fresh blood. I just stood there though; someone in the crowd must’ve given themselves a paper cut or something. Bernard obviously smelled it too, but his façade didn’t falter, no not yet. He nodded over to me before extending his hand out. I took a deep breath. This should be over soon enough, and then we could pack up and move around again.

                I slyly took his hand in my own gloved one. He led me around a curtain and into the main ring of the Big Top. Everyone around stood up and clapped. Bernard waited for the applause to stop before speaking, his voice still rough, but strong and almost overbearing.