Chapter 9: Holly (Part VII)

Shock, when you realise that you can never truly escape the past; it just keeps chasing you, biting your heels until you one day stop and turn around to face it.

     “This is Ezra. Heart Thief’s girl; Genuine, untamed panther -pure bred and willing to serve.” Slade mutters as he blows out a puff of smoke from a Cuban cigar. Ezra rubs up against me and I slowly lean in to pat her. She doesn’t bite but purrs and I just smile -I do love animals. I sit on the edge of the tent on the dirt floor away from the crowd and Ezra stretched out beside me, enjoys her back message. The Heart Thief enters from the corner where the man was once sitting and makes his way to me. His stride is followed by the eyes of some. He towers over me, hand outstretched. I grab his hand and he jolts me up to my feet but all my eyes see is the flexion of his biceps as he does so. His hand hovering on my waits, he leads me to a table and people shuffle over.
     We laugh and talk to others on the table and I catch the eyes of many in the room. I don’t know what to make of it but I mean they are all circus freaks so my personality must be strangely fitting in and I guess they’re just surprised. Although I barley say two words to The Heart Thief. I do however, make conversation with the others and only nod when he asks if I want a drink. After a while he begins his own conversation with Slade and a huge bold man who just looks like a living bolder of strength.
     As the sun rises and the lamps fade, I began to sway and eventually the magnetic force between him and I won over my mind. My head found a new home in the contours of his shoulder. My eyes "dreary, fall shut as all my energy and breath escapes me in one swift movement. They flutter open like butterflies and I’m surprised to find I am no longer in that rowdy tent resting on the shoulder of The Heart Thief. I’m lying down on a bed of pillows of all shapes sizes and colours. I sit up and scan what I can only assume to be someone’s tent. It was crowded and clattered with everything and anything. Books were stacked and scattered, candles melted into a wooden desk. A huge embroidered blanket with a dragon stared me down to the left of me. It was a struggle but I managed to get out of bed and take a sticky beak around "to find out where I was of course. I pushed back the silk, the embroidery in such intricate detail. A huge bed the size of an elephant’s pillow lay laced in sheets that were rippled out on the bed in any which way. Pillows galore acted as a head board. Cushions and little trinkets also filled the floor. I decided not to tread any further in fear I would break something. I backed out of the room and caught the sight of a world map tattered and bruised. I gasped and made my way to it. It was a map of our world, it was so beautiful. Serpents and mermaids were painted onto it and lines like paths back and forth through the different countries. I ran my hand over it in awe. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen so precious. I head towards the desk and fought the urges to roll the map up and hide it for my own amusement. A mirror laced with hairline cracks was tarnished with rough spots. I could barely make out my own reflection. The desk itself was peeling and engravings dug deep. I tried to convince myself otherwise but opened a little box upon the desk. Inside was an old drawing. I lifted it out to get a closer look. It was in such detail a family so beautiful stood outside a carnival. I looked at the little girl, hair in ringlets and a bow that flopped in her face. I looked upon the parents and smiled -they looked so happy. An elderly lady, the grandmother I suppose, stared down upon the girl as she gripped tight to the arm of the mother. I gasped as I was overpowered by the voice of my own grandmother and the story she sugar laced. The night, my parents were murdered. It was the first time I had ever seen a carnival. I hardly remember that night, only how excited I was. Hold on "I looked closer at the picture and as if it moved and danced in colour before my eyes, I saw my own memory. The huge carnival sign above my head and a stupid bow I had to keep flicking out of my eyes. I looked up at the mirror and back at the drawing "this was me. I dropped the picture and ran to the edge of the tent searching for a way out. An opening in front of my blurry eyes blew in the winds. I pushed through it and began to run anywhere where I could find shelter, peace, answers. I don’t know; anything that would make me stop crying and remembering the death of the ones I cherished most.