This is a revised version. I fixed errors and switched some stuff around and added a new scene. Tell me which one you think is better or if they both suck. I'll probably only have one more revision which will be switching some more stuff around. Please R&R

---

The merry-go-round stood solemnly in the center of the clearing. The middle paneling was made of glass with rotating wood panels painted with circus scenes. A lion tamer, whip upheld, snaking towards it's victim. He held a wooden chair out guardingly in front of himself, jabbing towards the roaring lion, jaw gaping open, pointed dagger teeth looking sharp enough to easily break through both chair and tamer. He looked as if he was perpetually caught in a roar, or maybe it was a yawn. Fake green emeralds had been placed on his face for eyes. One had been cracked and only a jagged piece remained, taking up half of his otherwise empty socket. The eyes were faded and covered in grime, painted scenes on wooden panels stood faded and chipped. Etched with time yet never having lost that magical childhood quality that promised the wind blowing through hair and that world being made to do anything the imagination held.

The gathered canopy top rose steeply until it came and met, pointed at the middle, colors whirling and fading into one another like washed-out watercolors. It was painted as many colors as the horses and unicorns, dazzling rainbow flashes of colored shine like water running through with oil in the sunlight. Pieces of mirror still hung possessively to the curved, carved sides. They were dim and most pieces were missing or entirely shattered but some still caught the glint of the moon.

Children sat atop horses and unicorns caught in mid tramp, some with hooves upraised or extended in front or behind them, and some half reared, so realistic that you could almost see the tight, lean muscles in their powerful legs clenched as they stood. The little children had faces of alabaster and bronze. They sat smiling and unmoving. The boys had slicked back hair while the girls had braids hanging down mid-back or ringlets curling about their perfectly shaped faces. Hair, auburn, blond, and black shone like spiderweb silk in the shimmering moonlight. Their faces were frozen, not a hair out of place, teeth flashed straight and perfect. Eyes shone with childhood innocence as all colors glinted in the reflective light. Cheeks had flawless circles of rosy red that stood out strikingly against their golden and alabaster skin.

The young boys sat, feet dangling above the stirrups, they wore old fashioned knickers that reached just below their knees with leather shoes and socks that disappeared underneath the legs of their pants. Shirts were worn looses around their chests and shoulders but were tied with strings at the wrists. The little girls were dressed in knee length dresses printed with many colored flowers, which moved slowly about their legs in the nonexistent breeze. Little black shoes peeked up from where they where they hung suspended over the horses broad sides. They all sat firmly in the animal's saddles, but they were turned and looking at one another as if they were laughing and joking like old school friends.

Twisted, gilded poles emerged from the floor panels of the merry-go-round and through the horses bellies. They were held by little child hands that would keep the children balanced as the horses moved up and down with the rhythm of the carnival music. The twisted metal stood straight and frozen as they snaked continuously to the ceiling where they disappeared as they were protruding into the children's chests and out through their necks and backs. Blood covered the front of their clothing and had dripped down their legs. The blood covered their chests and necks, while innocent eyes stared gaily at one another. Blood pooled on the polished wooden flooring, around the hooves of the horses and unicorns and left crimson stains down the sides as it slid thickly over the edge and towards the ground.

The sun shone brightly but they were safe and cool under the canopy top, protected from the noon day sun's harsh glare. A light breeze wafted over them bringing the smell of apples and funnel cakes covered in powdered sugar that fell on their curled rings like snow that melted in less then a sigh on the tips of their tongues. Salt water brine could be smelt from the pier, along with the hot sugar being used to make hard candies.

Their parents stood leaning against the bars that encircled the merry-go-round with it's gleaming pieces of mirrors placed against lush rainbow colors. Winged creatures with heads held high looked ready to rocket to the sky with a single beat of their powerful looking wings. Their parents talked to their children as they spun lazily around and around, laughing with thrills of excitement.

One man with gray beginning to take hold and root near his temples, bald spot shining in the sun, watched his daughter. Her eyes shone with a wild spark as she watched all the colors spin around her, blond curls flowing softly behind her. The ride slowed and finally came to a stop. She dismounted with a leap and jumped into her father's arms as he held her and spun her around once.

“I want to go again.” Her hair stood out untamed against her face and cheeks which were flushed with feral excitement. He laughed, a deep throated sound. “Don't you think it's time to leave the poor merry-go-round alone?” He asked as he continued to carry her past stands with stacked milk jars that you threw balls at and stands for salt water taffy. “You could always get a desk job like your dear old father.” He chuckled softly. “Grow up a little and join me at the shop.”

She looked at him determinedly in the eye. “I'm never going to grow up.” He released her and she spun around, arms wide open like wings, spinning dizzily and half drunk on sun.

The merry-go-round began to spin slowly and the music began to pour out of the speakers embedded in the wooden, overhanging canopy, slow and thick like honey. The children did not move as their horses slid up and around, nor was there wind being created by the slow, slight movements of the merry-go-round.

One girl, golden curls hanging limp and loose about her heart shaped face, turned her head slowly. Pale paint chipped and fell, sticking to her bloodied clothing as the space between her head and neck ground sharply together. She stared straight at the moon with violet eyes, it's orange light casting a haze over her face, making it appear as if she had flames trapped underneath her skin. A piercing scream flew from her plastic, faded pink lips and soared towards the moon. Agony, pain, and lost childhood innocence at once released into the night sky.

And nothing remained but a mushroom ring bathed in an unholy luminance by the moon as it faded from the sky to be replaced with the overbearing sun. Sprouting amongst the tree's roots and struggling through the rocky soil they grew crooked, yet in every one of the many circles they all grew in the same, unnatural direction. Brown and blue-white tops flowered out to underbellies of cream and ridges.

Trees of Ash, Birch, Oak and Rowan stood guard over the open space in which the mushrooms had overrun with their fleshy, meaty tops. They ringed out to thirteen layered rings, spaced at the exact same width from one another and in patterned kinds. Leaves faintly glowed misted silver around the edges, their upside-down bowl-like shape holding liquid like hands cupped, they cradled the blood and thorns that poured steadily towards the ground from the spout ended leaves. Yet they never soaked into the earth, disappearing as they fell, never leaving a stain, without a whisper of sound, leaving no proof at all that they had ever once been. Branches drooped solemnly, like weary men, shoulders hunched against the wind. Bark grew upwards like jagged teeth ready to catch their prey, threaded through, black, brown, and red veins lacing throughout and up the trunks that grew straight as iron arrows, pulsing with dull light.

Stiff grasses grew up and around the gnarled roots of the trees and the mushrooms spongy stems, choking by strangulation as the murderess weeds that sprung up along with them slowly throttled them of all innocence.