You see Brendon had this gift. He didn't know it at first, not until he had what doctors said was a seizure. He didn't remember blacking out. What he did remember was being in the back of his dad's truck when his dad died.
It felt like any other time he was on a drive with his dad. Then another car came, colliding into their car. He woke up and frantically told his mom what he saw. She said it was only a dream and that his dad was safe at work.
Later, his mother got a call from the hospital saying that her husband was in a car wreck. She began questioning Brendon how he knew about the crash. The six-year-old couldn't explain it.
As Brendon got older, he continued to spasm and black out. He would almost transport somewhere else. When he came back, he would tell his mother what he saw. She repeatedly took him to see doctors and was diagnosed with having epilepsy.
The medication they gave him did nothing and his mother didn't know what to do with him. She grew tired of taking care of a sick child. She didn't want to deal with the constant worry that he would hurt himself or someone else. She never listened to the premonitions he would have during his episodes. She didn't really want him anymore.
That's how Brendon ended up here in a cage with the circus ring master being his new guardian. When the cruel man heard about Brendon's gift, he promised his mother to take care of him. She gave no hesitation in handing over her parental rights.
Brendon didn't have any say in it. His new master stuffed him right in a cage and forced him to perform in random cities across the country. He was miserable, but it's not like he had anywhere else to go. No one wanted him.
"Master, can I please come out of the cage," Brendon pleaded with his head low. He didn't dare meet the man's eye unless he wanted to be whipped. His wounds had just healed from the last time he made that mistake, leaving behind scars as a reminder.
"Do you think I was born yesterday? Why would I let you out?" Brendon gripped the bars tightly.
"Please, sir. It's so small in here. I'll be good. I promise," he begged.
"Tell you what, you go out, do your twitching thing and give people some fortunes. And no telling people they're gonna die. I don't need you scaring off my customers."
"B-but I can't control it." Brendon's voice was so soft. He wanted so desperately to get out and stretch his legs. He hadn't been outside in a week. He wanted to see the sky.
He saw his master's shoes approach his cage. They looked new, shiny and black. Brendon didn't think having the expensive shoes were a good idea when walking around in dirt all day.
He hadn't noticed the rod in his master's hands until it come up and slammed against his fingers on the bars. He pulled back, crying out in pain. He pressed his arms against his body and looked down at his fingers.
He moved them slowly, wincing at the pain. He was relieved to see they weren't bleeding. It wasn't a hard hit, he's had worse, but it still hurt.
"I don't give a fuck if you can't control it. Fake it. Make them happy. I don't give a shit as long as I get my money." Brendon was almost tempted to look up. He knew by the closeness of the man's voice that he was bent over looking at Brendon through the bars. He sniffed softly as a tear fell down his face.
"Yes sir," he whispered.
"There's a good boy." Brendon flinched at the sound of his cage unlocking. The metal door swung open. He climbed out hesitantly. "Be grateful. Other people would be much worse to a freak like you."
"Thank you sir," Brendon said with a nod.
"Do I need to chain you to your table again?" Brendon shook his head quickly.
