Carnival of Dreams.

Please note that this is a rough draft, any feedback or advice is welcome and appreciated, as always, thank you for reading.

~ Come one, come all to our carnival. Wonder and mystery meet in this place, just waiting for you to indulge your innermost fantasy. So, heed the invitation and witness your heart’s desire with us. Admission is free, one night only. Don’t miss your chance for an evening of dreams. ~

“What a load of horse shit! Who do they think they are fooling? The only things in life that are free have a catch.” My dad grumbled as he read the flyer he was holding.

This was the first time he had spoken in over an hour, and the sudden sound caused me to jump in my seat.

We were waiting for my uncle’s release, parked outside the jail. His most recent stay in the county bin was due to a drunken brawl in the town’s bar, and I highly doubted that he would be home for long before getting back into trouble again; or at least I hoped.

“I think it would be fun.” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the rumble of his discontent, it was nearly lost in the cacophony of his frustration.

“What did you say, girl?” He snaps his head around to meet my gaze in the back seat of his old and rusted Cadillac.

“Nothing sir.” I mummer, casting my eyes out the window in time to see my uncle sauntering across the deserted parking lot. The gray sky swirled behind him, looking just as cold as the icy chill that swept the air.

Decrypted trees swayed in the wind above his head, their branches nearly snapping with each strong gust. I found myself praying that one would give way and drop him where he stood.

Again, wishful thinking.

“Stupid girl, always mumbling.” My dad rolls his eyes before unlocking the door for his twin brother.

The pair were a sight. Short, round, and balding, they shared the same blotchy face as well as a sour personality. On most accounts, I was forever thankful that I took after my mother, only having inherited my dad’s height.

I gaze at my reflection, glad to see golden hazel eyes, clear caramel skin, and a full head of short black hair—no hint of my dad’s ghastly genetics.

“Brother! You would not believe the night I’ve had.” My uncle starts as soon as he’s seated.

“Tell me everything, man. I need some stimulating conversation. I’ve only had this quiet little runt to talk to for the past few days.”

My dad juts his chin in my direction, earning a dark chuckle from my uncle.

The sound nearly made me gag. I could hear wet phlegm rattling in his lungs as he continued to laugh at my expense.

Talk to?

More like yell at. I can’t help but silently scoff.

“I don’t doubt it; the poor scrap has always been a little slow.” They continued on, unaffected by the fact that I could hear their disheartening thoughts about me.

I stopped listening as we pulled out of the parking lot and started towards home.

Buildings in varying states of disrepair sped past my eyes as we drove over the many potholes scattered along the unmaintained streets.

A stiff breeze threatened to uproot a rusting stop sign that my dad failed to adhere to.

Not that it mattered much.

There were hardly ever any pedestrians or other cars to worry about around here. The town was just as dead as the trees, whose roots tore trenches through the empty sidewalks.

My uncle’s arrest was solely due to his decision to negatively interact, directly with the public. Even in a shithole like Ravensdale, cops had to pay attention to a drunken loon causing a scene. At the very least, they had to save face for authority's sake on these matters.

Like I said, Ravensdale was dead.

It was not only the people who were in such a suffering state ither.

Nothing stayed alive in our bereft little town; not the flowers, not the trees, not even hope, withering swiftly under the weight of despair.

These things were all alike, in that they bloomed before quickly fading from this life. Crumbling beneath the ever-present decay that seemed to blanket the land.

But no one ever left.

Even as our buildings fell to their desolate skeletal framework, and even the stray dogs that wandered the streets tucked tails and ran to greener pastures, we still stayed. Whatever afflicted our town left us haunted and marred yet shackled in place.

A quiet sigh escapes me as I ponder how our town is still on the map.

Realizing my error, a sense of dread crept over me, prompting a swift shift of focus to the front seat, hoping against hope that my inadvertent sigh had gone unnoticed. My dad and uncle were still conversing boorishly about the dastardly antics committed the night prior. They pay no mind to me.

My heart clenched as they laughed at the expense of the poor soul who had the misfortune of being paired with my uncle in the same cell. In an attempt to ignore the horrors being recounted, I return my gaze to the scenery, or lack thereof.

There was nothing worth seeing in this rotting place, or so I thought.

My breath catches as we pass the large open field that sits a few blocks from our run-down shack of a home.

Just hours ago, it was as empty as it had always been. But it was now filled with tents, carnival rides, and eccentric-looking people dressed in neon garb.

I press my nose to the cold glass, eyes wide with childlike wonder, yearning to capture one final glimpse as we glide past.

“I want to go there,” I found myself stating. Unfortunately for me the front seat had fallen silent at that very moment. My words echoed inside the cab, hanging threateningly in the air.

My dad slams on the breaks with such force that the tires screeched on the dirt road, kicking rocks against the undercarriage.

The sudden stop throws me forward, my spine screaming at me. I barely have time to recover my senses before twin glares whip around to face me. Vicious snarls pulled their lips back into identical grimaces.

Oh no.

A chilling avalanche of dread floods my stomach, sinking to my feet, while my heart pounds against my ribs like a trapped bird in a cage.

“What did you just say, runt?” My uncle sneered, staring at me down his bulbous nose, his eyes crossing with rage.

I cowered at his outburst, pressing myself so tightly to the seat that, if it were possible, I would have passed straight through and into the relative safety of the mold-filled trunk.

“Didn’t I already tell you that damn invitation was a scam?” My dad spat, foam forming at the corners of his mouth. His rage was unwarranted given my simple question, but I had known better than to speak.

“I-I-I” Stammering, I searched for an excuse for my slip, but none came to mind.

“For Christ’s sake, Ashlin, you are fifteen; act like it and stop stuttering.” The two snapped together almost in unison, their eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“N-nineteen.” I whisper.

“What was that?” My dad shouts, and his spit hits my face.

Quivering, I repeat myself slightly louder, terror gripping my vocal cords as my words came out as little more than a squeak.

“I’m nineteen today.” I realize too late that I should have just kept my mouth shut.

I had already evoked their hatred by simply uttering a word.

I’d known better; my very breath was sometimes enough to set them off, and repeating myself, even at their behest, had only added fuel to the already blazing inferno.

“You think we give a fuck?” My uncle rages as they open their doors and exit the car.

“Please don’t.” I whimper, unable to keep them from yanking my door open and ripping me from my seat. They ignore my plea for mercy, but I had expected as much. My family was always quick to the draw when it came to “discipline,” as they called it.

I gasp as my body smacks roughly against the road. On impact, a spray of red dust kicks into my face and catches in my throat. I choke on the dirty cloud. My watering eyes search through the settling dust, desperate for a salvation that will never come.

Even if anyone else were to be traveling this way today, they would not stop to offer a helping hand. They were more likely to request permission to join.

Instead, my eyes land on the carnival standing in the near distance, almost mockingly.

Fighting back the tears that pressed against my eyelids, I concentrated on the bright tents, bracing myself for what lay ahead, but even as my dad and uncle’s sharp kicks stole my breath, I couldn’t bring myself to regret saying I wanted to go.

I kept my eyes locked on the carnival, the swirling fog in my mind mirroring the haze that enveloped me with each brutal impact.

Maybe it was in part due to that fog that I didn’t fully trust my own sight, but I could almost swear there was someone standing at the edge of the field.

Standing and staring.