"Welcome to the Carnival of Tears!" loudspeakers blared in a mechanical voice, apparently belonging to a man dressed as a black and white harlequin. His face was painted white, his lips black, the only colorful thing to be found in his complexion was he red bulb of plastic he used as nose.
I immediately disliked him, like the circus itself. It had a miserable air to it, not at all what you expected a fair to be. A carnival. Right, get real. It didn't feel cheery. It was depressing. Almost as depressingly sad as my life. And I seriously wondered how the hell the managers of this carnival had come up with that name. This was supposed to cheer people up, not make them cry, for Christ's sake!
A mass of people drifted through the entrance, glancing warily at the man. But the look on their faces gave away their excitement, the joy at being here. I just rolled my eyes exasperatedly at the excited squeals of delight emitting from my little sister. It was her birthday, so what? That didn't mean my family had to drag me along to this stupid fair.
No, not a fair. A circus. Things just couldn't get better. "You need some fresh air, once in a while," my mother had chirped that morning. "Sulking in your room doesn't help . . ."
Right. What did she know? Had she ever seen the scars on my body? The scars I had given myself, trying in vain to find release in the sharp pain of cutting. It hadn't worked. It still didn't. One of those cuts on my arm was still fresh; I had given it to myself the day before.
I shuddered slightly as many bodies pressed against me, taking me up in the flow of the mass. I never liked other people touching me; I despised any type of physical contact with people. No matter if it was a mere hug, a punch, or someone accidentally brushing me. I hated it.
My nostrils flared as I absorbed the smell of sweat, cotton candy, animals and other smells. My stomach knotted, I was actually quite disgusted. I was probably sweating like a pig myself, having dressed all in black. A black sweater, the sleeves long enough to cover the signs of my depression, black pants and BDUs, which actually belonged to my father.
I felt a tug on my right sleeve, and immediately shot an annoyed glance at whoever was touching me. That person turned out to be my sister. Lucky for her that that was what she was, otherwise I would have gotten violent.
"What do you want, twit?" I snapped, pulling my arm out of her grasp with a swift, brutal movement, which almost knocked someone behind me over. I heard that person muttering insults, cursing me, but I decided not to respond in an equally ill-mannered fashion.
She pouted. "Quit being mean to me, Jimbo, or I'll tell Mom."
I felt like strangling her. Jimbo. Only my family called me that, instead of Jim. Not James, not Jim, not Jimmy . . . No. It just had to be Jimbo. And she absolutely had to call me that in public.
"Fine then, you brat, go tell mom. Think I give a shit?" I spat.
"Mom said I should give you the ticket for the show. She wants you to come along with me while she waits for Dad."
I rolled my eyes again, this time at her tone of voice. Sweet, so full of herself. That's why I hated my family. They were all full of themselves. So was I. But at least I made an effort to suppress it.
"She wants me to do what?!"
"To stay with me while we look at the circus show."
A groan escaped me. Me. In a circus. Watching some idiots run around, thinking themselves funny. Just great. What else could happen to make my day complete? "Sally, I feel sick. I need to go home. Find someone else to pester . . . "
Sally opened her mouth to scream for my mother. Before that could happen, I clamped a hand over her mouth. "Alright, alright, I get the message," I hissed. Damn ten-year-olds to flaming hell. I had never encountered such a tattle-tale before.
A smirk appeared on her face. "I knew you'd be nice to me after all," she said sweetly, grabbing my elbow and dragging me along to the red and yellow circus tent. It took all my self-control not to scream with rage and throw her into the mass of people. Instead I jerked my arm out of her grasp.
"I hope this is clear: Don't. Touch. Me," I said with quiet force, biting back my rage. It wouldn't have had any effect on her if I had yelled, it would only have boosted her ego.
She ignored me, grabbed my sleeve again and started yanking me towards the tent. Gritting my teeth, I followed. I'd have my revenge later. Some time.
A lot of other people were there to see the show as well - something I couldn't understand. Why the hell would you want to pay to see some dressed up idiots run around, squirting each other with water? Yeah, I admit having been a party pooper back then. But I still don't like circuses.
They're cruel. I despised the way they caged up animals. I hated the way they forced them into doing tricks, just to entertain a shrieking mass of humans. Just to keep them happy. Did they ever think of the animals? No, I don't think so.
Humanity is stupid, to say in the least. It was that way when I was fifteen, and it still is. I don't think it will ever change.
Sally stopped to boy popcorn on the way to the tent-entrance, for once being open enough to offer me some. I refused. There was no way I would get myself into her debt. She would have used it shamelessly.
I let myself get carried along by the flow of people. They were pretty much all headed for the tent, so it wasn't too bad. I still despised the feeling of being squashed between them, ignored the rising claustrophobia as best as I could, but for most part, it was in vain. I was lucky enough to have managed not to scream like an idiot and run.
The inside of the circus tent was larger than I thought, the arena large and circular. The bleachers were aligned in rows, rising upwards the further outward they went. I counted at least twelve, then decided to leave it be. The thought of how many people this tent could hold was sickening.
We found seats in the middle, close to an aisle. I got the seat directly next to an aisle, which was good. If I got too bored, which probably wouldn't take more than five minutes, I would be able to sneak off and find something better to do. Sally wouldn't notice how her dear brother Jimbo would run off, would she? No, she'd be wrapped up in the show. Bonus for me.
We wound up sitting there for fifteen minutes until our parents came. They claimed luck was with them, so that they mixed up the show times and we ended up being there twenty minutes too early. Morons. I didn't know why the hell they considered themselves lucky for it. I would have given anything to have missed the show.
I was extremely bored, asking god why I had to endure such torture. I received no answer to it. Damn. I must have done something really wrong to have him abandon me like that. It had been a long time since I'd actually done real praying. At least three years, to be exact. I stopped believing in any type of religion once my depressions first set in as badly as they were then.
I don't think my parents ever realized I was suicidal, they didn't even notice when I snuck off a bottle of sleeping pills when I'd had it, once. It was sheer coincidence my best friend had dropped in and punched me in the face when he saw what I'd been trying to do. I settled for cutting afterwards.
A man dressed in the cliché outfit of a circus director appeared in the arena. "Welcome to the Carnival of Tears!" he shouted into the microphone he held so close to his mouth that I thought he'd eat it. I rolled my eyes. Not again . . .
"We hope you had a good time up to now! It's been wonderful to have so many guests in one day!" The man beamed. I wanted him to swallow that microphone and choke on it. How could someone be that cheery?
"It's been very busy today, and I don't want to keep you from seeing our wonderful show any longer, since we have other guests waiting to see it, too. We have exotic animals, wonderful clowns, and loads more! We have all been training very hard to provide the best entertainment for our public. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the show!"
Applause erupted from the crowd as the director retreated, taking that stupid grin with him. I could do nothing but watch the lights go out with annoyance, to be replaced by colored spotlights. Music blared from multiple loud speakers spread around the tent. I had the bad luck to be seated only ten feet from one. My ears hurt only after few seconds there.
I wanted out.