Chapter 2: and the Heart Thief

Do not underestimate the 'New World'...

All my hands feel is burning punishment. The rope smug as it tears the flesh off my palms. Though it’s mostly Fern’s fault, if she wasn’t such a disobedient Elephant I would be having dinner right now.

     “Oh come on Fern!” I yell, bursting a gasket looking like a raging rat up against her.
     “Torturing the animals again are we?” Lacy whispers in my ear, it makes me uneasy how close she is -if only she knew. My jaw clenches shut and I ignore her completely, giving a tug on the rope again. Fern being a girl of dramatic timing follows behind me as I leave Lacy with a face full of Elephant a*s.
     The night is still, the moon full, taking up most of the night sky along with other planets so close to ours that they fill our sky constantly. I untie Fern and lock the gate to her pen, making my way to Cyprus -the tent of entertainment.
     “Hey thief you made it, thought you were in your depressed no one likes me mood?” Slade stabs at me, the irony of his sharp words might have made me laugh "not tonight. Slade is a sword swallower, the best so he tells me. I sit down next to him on one of the outdoor settings they dragged in form outside, I really don’t know how people can stand these. I look around and realise I’m probably the only quiet and civilised thing in the room.  Slade blows out a candle that was burning fine without him, in the middle of the table. Smoke covers my face as it goes out; I extend my hand, click my fingers the wick in-between them. It lights up to the ceiling burning a hole in the tent. Everyone is silent, I dime it down to a little flicking flame as before and everyone goes back to eating, drinking and swearing. I stand up and leave the tent in the same matter as I entered it, realising I’m not hungry after all.
     I dance in the moonlight, sweat dripping from my hair as I juggle the sticks that reach the stratosphere as I throw them. I may be amused to the heat of the flames but it sure was hot out here, but if I stripped anymore I think Lacy might get the wrong idea. The sticks torpedo down towards me; I flip backwards and catch them, one stick behind my back, one in front of my face. The ends igniting simultaneously as I hold them in my grasp. I lean, I turn, and I beckon the moon in my routine of flames, a dance of attention it seems. I throw the sticks to the ground and storm off in a huff -what was with me lately? I couldn’t seem to do anything right today and I almost eat the whole arena I was that hungry; but now nothing, just nothing, emptiness and some form of emotion I can’t quite but my finger on. I barge through my tent, candles igniting upon entry. I drench my head under the tap, wipe the water from my face and slick my mop of dark hair back. You look like a f*g, I think to myself, seeing my reflection the mirror. I shake my head sending my black hair in all sorts of directions. I push my suspenders off my bare shoulders, grabbing a black singlet and left not wanting to stare at my reflection any longer.
    I knew exactly where I was going, though I didn’t want to admit it to myself. She said to come and visit; though she knows I’m not really the most social person in the world and would probably be the clumsiest if I ever actually meet her, the one who has me feeling like I constantly have a scorpion crawling along my back. How she makes me so, so on edge, she does something to me; like a puppy in a way, but you don’t tend to travel half The New World to see a puppy do her homework, or have the urge to consume the puppy, torture it, bruise and batter its body, make love to it then tear its heart right out of its chest that you’ve tainted with your fingertips -you’re right that would be inappropriate, poor puppy.