Status: Active
Le Cirque de la Rose Enchantée
Friedrichshain
As far back as I can remember, I have been a member of Le Cirque de la Rose Enchantée. It’s more like a freak-show, than an actual circus. There are no clowns, there are no elephants or dancing dogs; only people or things with unusual “talents”. We weren’t a family, we didn’t love or care about each other; we only tolerated one another, for survival.
During my act tonight, I failed to do the one thing I was expected to do; shift from man to beast. For some reason, I could not shift into my animal form. Spectators booed and threw food and other objects at the stage, and I knew that once I stepped off stage, Vladimir would be there, waiting. As the proprietor and ring master of Le Cirque de la Rose Enchantée, he was cruel. Whenever an act failed to do their part for the show, Vladimir was there, waiting with his whip. I remember the many beatings I suffered at the hands of Vladimir. They happened so often, that even as a child, the pain began to subside after the third lash, and I eventually became numb to the pain; emotionally, as well as physically.
“Stupid boy! Why no change?! You ruin show!” He screams, as he grabs my arm and slams me into the wall; that’s when the lashing starts.
I take the beating, but to my surprise the pain does not subside. I am thankful that he cannot see my face, because tears get five extra lashes. I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. It feels like an eternity between each of the ten lashes. Just when I think that I can’t take any more of this agony, it’s over.
Vladimir pushes me, and I fall, but am grateful when he does nothing more, and leaves. It takes me a moment to gather and compose myself, before walking to my dressing room in the tent. I clean my wounds, change my clothes, and I leave. Anywhere is better than here.
“What a miserable night, what a miserable life.” I mumble to myself.
I’m lost in thought, as I usually am, when I look up to find myself fixated in place, mesmerized by the beauty and art in which I see a woman dancing in front of a caravan in the middle of the city. Her movements are passionate, and enchanting. The woman herself is beautiful, but it is the way she twirls and moves that have caught my attention. She meets my gaze, never missing a barefooted-step, and smiles.
An older woman appears in the caravan behind her. Her hair is graying, she’s round and short. The energy she gives off is ancient and wise. My focus is no longer on the young woman, but rather is now on the old woman. She motions for me to come forward, and I don’t dare disobey this woman, there’s something about her that has my conscience telling me to be wary.
“Would you like me to read the cards for you?” She asks, holding up a tarot deck.
I nod, and proceed to enter the caravan as she holds the curtain open. It’s small and cramped inside, but it’s welcoming. She motions for me to sit in a chair across from her at a small table.
“Welcome, Nicholai.”
“How do you know my name?” I ask her.
“I know everything, dear boy. Now do you want your fortune read or not?”
“I apologize if I was rude. Yes ma’am, I would very much appreciate that.”
She smiles, and pulls out the cards, straightening the deck before beginning. She pulls the first card.
“Strength. You have an anger in you, of which you do not know the origin. You need to learn to control it. To do this, you must understand and accept the negative aspects of yourself.”
I just listen, and nod, fascinated. She pulls the second card.
“The Wheel of Fortune. Situations in your life that are coming to a close, and new opportunities are to arise. You are going to have to make decisions, unlike any that you have ever made before, and their impact will change your life forever. Take a step back and look at what has caused these events.” She pulls the third, and final card.
“The lovers. Do you need me to explain this one?” She grins, I shake my head.
“Thank you ma’am.” I say, before leaving.
“You are welcome Nicholai. If you are ever in Friedrichshain again, you are welcome to come for another read. Goodbye.” She smiles, and with that I stand and take my leave.
I make my way back to the tent. My head is reeling, whether it’s from the reading or the loss of blood, I can’t tell. I fall asleep, only to dream of a beautiful pair of deep, brown eyes. I smile in my sleep that night.
During my act tonight, I failed to do the one thing I was expected to do; shift from man to beast. For some reason, I could not shift into my animal form. Spectators booed and threw food and other objects at the stage, and I knew that once I stepped off stage, Vladimir would be there, waiting. As the proprietor and ring master of Le Cirque de la Rose Enchantée, he was cruel. Whenever an act failed to do their part for the show, Vladimir was there, waiting with his whip. I remember the many beatings I suffered at the hands of Vladimir. They happened so often, that even as a child, the pain began to subside after the third lash, and I eventually became numb to the pain; emotionally, as well as physically.
“Stupid boy! Why no change?! You ruin show!” He screams, as he grabs my arm and slams me into the wall; that’s when the lashing starts.
I take the beating, but to my surprise the pain does not subside. I am thankful that he cannot see my face, because tears get five extra lashes. I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. It feels like an eternity between each of the ten lashes. Just when I think that I can’t take any more of this agony, it’s over.
Vladimir pushes me, and I fall, but am grateful when he does nothing more, and leaves. It takes me a moment to gather and compose myself, before walking to my dressing room in the tent. I clean my wounds, change my clothes, and I leave. Anywhere is better than here.
“What a miserable night, what a miserable life.” I mumble to myself.
I’m lost in thought, as I usually am, when I look up to find myself fixated in place, mesmerized by the beauty and art in which I see a woman dancing in front of a caravan in the middle of the city. Her movements are passionate, and enchanting. The woman herself is beautiful, but it is the way she twirls and moves that have caught my attention. She meets my gaze, never missing a barefooted-step, and smiles.
An older woman appears in the caravan behind her. Her hair is graying, she’s round and short. The energy she gives off is ancient and wise. My focus is no longer on the young woman, but rather is now on the old woman. She motions for me to come forward, and I don’t dare disobey this woman, there’s something about her that has my conscience telling me to be wary.
“Would you like me to read the cards for you?” She asks, holding up a tarot deck.
I nod, and proceed to enter the caravan as she holds the curtain open. It’s small and cramped inside, but it’s welcoming. She motions for me to sit in a chair across from her at a small table.
“Welcome, Nicholai.”
“How do you know my name?” I ask her.
“I know everything, dear boy. Now do you want your fortune read or not?”
“I apologize if I was rude. Yes ma’am, I would very much appreciate that.”
She smiles, and pulls out the cards, straightening the deck before beginning. She pulls the first card.
“Strength. You have an anger in you, of which you do not know the origin. You need to learn to control it. To do this, you must understand and accept the negative aspects of yourself.”
I just listen, and nod, fascinated. She pulls the second card.
“The Wheel of Fortune. Situations in your life that are coming to a close, and new opportunities are to arise. You are going to have to make decisions, unlike any that you have ever made before, and their impact will change your life forever. Take a step back and look at what has caused these events.” She pulls the third, and final card.
“The lovers. Do you need me to explain this one?” She grins, I shake my head.
“Thank you ma’am.” I say, before leaving.
“You are welcome Nicholai. If you are ever in Friedrichshain again, you are welcome to come for another read. Goodbye.” She smiles, and with that I stand and take my leave.
I make my way back to the tent. My head is reeling, whether it’s from the reading or the loss of blood, I can’t tell. I fall asleep, only to dream of a beautiful pair of deep, brown eyes. I smile in my sleep that night.
♠ ♠ ♠
After weeks of discussing this, glorianas and myself have begun writing this. Since we are both in college, it has taken a while for us to begin to write this. I wanted to keep this chapter short, sweet, and to the point. Since I haven't written in a while, I thought I would keep this short, at least for now, until I can get back into the swing of things.~EyesOnFire