Scarlett Bailey runs away from her home, sick of Blue Mountain. She meets Garrett and his traveling circus, and takes refuge in his kind ways and loud music. But the farther she travels with them, the more Scarlett discovers, and the more she learns about Garrett. The circus isn't all as fun as the audience might make it out to be.

I collapse onto the sparse grass. My legs are achy and my throat is dry and I’m too far to go back to Blue Mountain… at least right now. It’s almost sunset. I squint up at the sun, wondering why there are many cars passing and none have stopped to question an eighteen year old girl sitting on the side roads.

I tug at the few strands of grass besides me, and it feels like forever until I hear what sounds like carriages and… horses? I sit up straighter, suddenly no longer tired. I hear horns blaring, an annoying constant boing that rings in my mind long after it stops. I stand as the odd caravans approach. A dark haired man is sitting outside the very first one, controlling the horses.

He has to be in his twenties, with his face free of wrinkles and worry, a smile on his face, shaggy hair falling over dark brown eyes. He glances at me once, and looks away, as if he’s accustomed to seeing girls stranded on the side of roads daily.
As slow as they are moving, the -what seems like never ending line of caravans-move fast, and it’s as if they seem to be disappearing. There is laughter, the smell of food lingers in the air and people drinking water passes, taunting me. Hell, even an elephant passes, being ridden by a thin woman, so thin, she looks as if she might snap in two.

In a panic, I struggle to get to my feet.

“Wait!” I shout at the intriguing man, running after circus music and what feels like my last hope. It’s as if he doesn’t hear me. I hate myself for being desperate, but hell, am I desperate. I call after him again, and I’m not too surprised with the fact that I’m able to catch up. “Hey!” I call, waving my hand towards the man. He stares ahead with a poker face, as if he can’t see me. I feel myself getting angry. Is he serious? “Hello! Over here!” Still nothing. I groan, and so does my stomach. “Excuse you!” I scream at what feels like my loudest. The man finally looks over at me, as if he’s seeing me for the first time. However, he doesn’t stop the caravans.

“Hello,” he says, over the loud noise of music, horns, laughter and horses. This whole thing is so bizarre, and now I’m further from home than I’ve ever been.

“C-Can you stop? Please.” I’m running out of breath, and soon I won’t be able to keep up with him. I’ll fall back and watch my opportunity to eat and leave for good go away right before my eyes. I can’t let that happen.

The man says nothing, just reaches up for an air horn. The sound blares through my ears, and makes me wonder if this is even worth it. He's still moving at the end, so I’m stuck wondering what the point of that was. He goes slower though, so I’m able to simply walk now to keep up, until finally, he comes to a complete halt. I look behind me to realize everyone else behind him has stopped too. The elephant trumpets loudly in the distance.

“Can I help you?” he asks, voice assertive, as if I’m the one who is bothering him with loud noises and scents of delicious food. I shove my hair out of my face and frown.

“I was just wondering if you could help me,” I state, meeting his dark eyes. He glares at me.

“Help?” He doesn’t seem to keen on the idea of helping others, and it unsettles me. I swallow and force myself to just come out and say it. Asking for things has never bothered me before.

“Food. I want some food. And a ride.” I realize how demanding I sound, but growing up in a family of six, it’s the voice you need in order to be heard. He narrows his eyes at me, his lips forming a thin line. I think I’ve upset him.

The man is quiet for a long time, his mean glare making my blood pound. The music has stopped, and so has the laughter, as if everyone is watching, waiting for him to explode like I am. Then, his angry demeanor vanishes and he smiles widely.

“Sure! Hop on up, next to me. We’re stopping at dusk to eat!” I’m surprised by the kindness oozing from his voice. I smile though. See, being demanding really does get you what you want. With the knowledge in the back of my mind that sitting beside him and riding away from Blue Mountain means it really is all over, that I really am never going to go back, I allow him to help me up.

I just now realize he is wearing a gray pinstripe suit, something that makes him look like he’s walked directly out of the 1920’s. It’s fitting, oddly enough. However, I say nothing about it. I meet his hooded gaze, and his warm smile. I force myself to smile back. I’m too hungry to really consider conversation, and turn away before he can say a word to me.

He doesn’t seem phased by it. He blasts the air horn again, twice this time, and we jolt forward. I almost slip out onto the horses in front, but he reaches out and grabs my arm. His touch burns my skin, and I shove him away. He raises an eyebrow at me, shocked by my forwardness.

“I don’t like being touched,” I tell him. His face goes blank again.

“What’s your name?” he questions, focusing his attention on the road. I wonder where all the cars have gone. When did the road get so empty? 

“Scarlett,” I say, after a long while.

“Scarlett,” he says, testing the name on his tongue. He looks at me again. “We don’t have a Scarlett.”

“What?” I ask, furrowing my brow. Maybe I’ve made a mistake.

“In our circus. We have no Scarlett’s.”

“So… you’re actually a circus?”

“Of course. We’re rather well known in the south, but not exactly anywhere else.” He chuckles. “But it’s fine.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” I retort, as if hurting his ego is something majorly important.

“We are a traveling circus. We haven’t been to every city in the south, sadly.”

“How long have you been around?” He tilts his head. “If you haven’t been to every city in the south and all.”

“Five years,” he says, a smile on his face. I don’t like his smile, it’s too nice, too open and endearing. “The south is big, but I’m sure you knew that… Scarlett.”

I cross my arms. “Alright,” I mumble. I’ve had enough.

“Join,” he suddenly says, quietly.

“Come again?” I infer, begging that I heard him wrong.

“Join us… the circus.”

“No,” I say, laughing, “That’s ridiculous.”
He shakes his head. “You will always have food and shelter.” He gives me a pointed stare, and I feel as if he is judging me.

“Something you clearly didn't have before.”

Dick.

“I’m not joining… what’s your circus name anyway?” I ask irritably.

“Muerent’s Circus.” He looks proud. He shoves his thin, wispy hair from his face, although moments later, it falls right back over his eyes again. I bite my lip, and can’t believe I’m seriously considering this. But how bad could the circus be? It does sound like fun, traveling and performing in different cities. And anything is better than being at home. I find myself finding the idea more appealing, and hate myself for it. So I shove the idea out of my head, and refuse to even entertain it any longer.

“Well,” I say softly. I can’t say the words.

“We’ll see,” is what I decide on. He seems pleased with it. It falls quiet between us again, and this time, it is oddly comfortable. I relax into the seat, resting on the caravan. My eyelids feel heavy again, and sleep hits me ten times worse than before.

“By the way,” he says, leaning in to me. He smells like apples and pine. “My name is Garrett.”

I plan for this story to be a tad bit disturbing... so I just want to put a disclaimer here for anyone who is offended easily or disturbed easily, this might not be for you! If it is, then I mean... great. Let's be demented together. :)