The Carousel

I stepped out of the car, greeted with the satisfying crunch of the dry autumn leaves that littered the ground. I looked around, to my left I was greeted with empty parking spaces and the woods, the woods would go on for miles before you either got to La Push or Seattle. To my right, I could see what used to be a carnival. The opening used to be beautiful, two thick metal poles painted white, would hold up the banner that said 'Welcome to Forks Carnival', but now it didn't resemble what it used to look like.

The white had been peeled off of the poles, and the banner was lying on the ground, the words had faded and blended in with the background because of the sun's rays. I made my way towards one of the rides, the Carousel. Bits and pieces of the once grand carousel stood before me, it once was a symbol of happiness, for both adults and children, children waiting in line to ride the gorgeously detailed plastic horses, while their parents stood back, some would record, while others would just watch.

But that was three years ago. The ride never stood a chance against mother nature, the metals had rusted and paint was peeling. The wooden platform had started to rot, it squeaked when I stepped onto it. Weeds had started to grow through the cracks in the platform and the bolts that held the planks in place were coming loose.

The head of the carousel, the rounding board, looked just as terrible. It had been hand painted and shaded using reds, blues and golds, but the paint had faded, the painted figures of stars and horses had smudged. I walked around the carousel and stepped onto the platform. On one of the panels, it was marked and you could see a small faint gap in between this panel and you'd never see it, but there was a hatch built into the centre pole, one of the scenic panels could be pulled away from the others.

I grabbed the panel and placed it onto the ground, not wanting to damage it even farther. It was a small two by two feet, the hatch itself was surprisingly simple, it was wooden and had a metal handle and there were two hinges. Once you've opened the hatch there was a ladder that brought you underground. I stepped onto the first rung carefully not wanting to plunge into the darkness. I put my other foot on the rung below, and slowly I brought my left hand onto the first rung and slowly made it down just enough to grab the hatch and close it.

It didn't take long to get to the bottom, once my foot touched the ground I hopped off. I felt around the walls until I felt a hard plastic, a switch, I flicked the switch and turned on the light. I turned around and saw a door, it was made of the same material as the hatch, with a metal doorknob, I grasped the cool metal, and pushed the door open.

The inside wasn't what you'd expect, the door led to a large room, About the same size as a high school classroom. The walls were lined with light blue wallpaper and looked as if it were maintained regularly, the ground had been cemented and smoothed down so that the floors gave off a shine.

The light switch from outside was connected to the lights in this room as well. I looked around and saw that the room was furnished, on the left-hand side from where I was standing there was a couch, a TV and a gaming console.

Across from me were two doors that led to a bathroom and a kitchen. To my right there was a closet, dark oak made up the body, frame and knobs of the closet. It was locked tight and wouldn't budge open, underneath the right knob there was a keyhole, I slipped my hands into my pockets and felt around, I grabbed onto the warm metal key from my left pocket and inserted the key into the keyhole, I turned it clockwise and heard a click, I turned the key counterclockwise to get it out and put it back into my pocket.

I grabbed the knobs and swung the doors open, and was greeted with guns, shotguns, rifles, handguns and ammunition. It was like heaven, I didn't realise but my right hand had reached towards the nearest handgun, my fingertips grazing the trigger, the gun had called out to me, wanting to be held once more. I remember that day, like it was yesterday, the feeling of the gun in my hand, the smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, and the screaming, the screaming was like music to my ears, children screaming for their parents, parents screaming for children they'd never get back, it was a beautiful tragedy, more so a tragedy for them than me. Three years ago in Forks, Washington a masked shooter shot and wounded 400 kids along with their parents, a shooter who got away scot-free, a shooter who was never found, a shooter who hid.

You better watch out, because you've found me.