I'm not sure how long it's been since the last moment I remember... I don't know... it doesn't really matter now anyway. All I know is that I woke up one afternoon in Hercules' former lion cage with metal clasps around my wrist and that fancy blue and gold collar that Precision had trapped me with once before. My costume had been cleaned of any blood, as had I and I was clearly already prepped and made pretty for a show... no... not for a show... for a display.
A small chalkboard sat beside the cage and in colourful writing, the words, "Demon, the Beast of the Nočne Mačke!" was displayed for people to see. The guests who had come by to witness the "beast" stood several feet away behind a rope that was tied to posts that circled my enclosure. They stared with interested demeanours and murmured to each other about the spectacle they were seeing; it was odd to see a normal young girl trapped behind bars and chained like an animal.
My mind offered me flashbacks of the night that I had killed a full-grown lion; the trance-like state I was in, the sound of the guests screaming in the stands, the blood on my hands... everyone's terrified, hate-filled stares. I was not myself that night; I don't know who I was but I truly was a monster. An eight-year-old physically can't kill an adult lion. It's impossible! The mere thought is ridiculous! But hundreds of people witnessed the event. They saw the impossible and I'm sure they went home and continued to talk about it for days- if days had even passed.
Now, the cause of that impossible event had been put on display for all to see. I was nothing more than a museum exhibit, or a pickled punk on the shelves in the Freakshow. And who's idea to put me here was anyone's guess but I only know one man who owns this circus, one man who gives the orders... and one man who witnessed me kill a lion along with everyone else...
At that moment, a familiar voice broke my thoughts, "Hey! Everybody, sorry I'm late but I'm here now if any of you have any questions regarding Demon."
I looked over and I saw Cheetah, standing proudly in a new rust-coloured, cat-themed tamer's outfit. The small group of people quieted their mumbling and watched the young man intently. His back was to me and he stared out at the audience with a look of pride on his face, awaiting any questions.
"Weren't you the ticket man yesterday and the day before that?" one man asked near the back of the crowd. Cheetah nodded and smiled.
"I was... but now, since the lion incident, I've been assigned as Demon's official tamer... My job is to give her a good lesson if she ever tries attacking anybody or anything again," the boy explained proudly.
Tamer? So I'm a beast now?... I wonder who's responsible for this misunderstanding... I thought to myself, the image of TomCat's smug grin lingering in my brain and sending waves of disdain throughout my veins. I had never before thought of that man and associated him with hate... and it was a strange feeling.
"Sir, does she ever attack the other performers? Has she ever attacked a performer?" a woman carrying a baby and surrounded by three other children asked. Cheetah cleared his throat and rocked back and forth on his heels, his hands folded behind his back.
"Well... no... she's never attacked anyone here at the circus... but whether she will in the future is strongly up for debate," he answered as honestly as possible. the woman nodded and was about to ask him another question, but unfortunately one of her daughters spotted Tim the clown and practically dragged her away from the cage. Everyone else moved on later after asking a few more generic questions and being pushed away by eager reporters who had heard of the Lion Incident and came asking for answers and pictures. After they had moved on (after a great deal of ordering them to leave and threats to kick them out by Cheetah) I finally found my chance to ask my own questions.
He had sat down on a small stool beside the cage and he was staring calmly towards the open back entrance of the Freakshow tent, waiting for more curious people to wander out. Timidly, I scooted over to him and lightly tapped his shoulder. He jumped in surprise and turned to me with widened eyes.
"What is it?" he wondered, relaxing after he noticed that I was in no mood to attack anything.
"Did TomCat do this?" I wondered solemnly.
The man sighed quietly; whether out of sympathy or frustration, I wasn't quite sure, "Yes... he did. he thought it was best, considering all that's happened while you've been here... you know... your strange abilities, the tightrope incident, and now the fact that you managed to kill a grown lion, for god's sake! He's just scared... he doesn't want you accidentally getting angry and killing one of us or even worse, a guest."
"Why would he do this?"
"Yeah, I will admit, this is a little extreme. I was thinking maybe he would just keep you in the cabin for a while and keep you out of performances. That's what he insinuated, after all, but I guess not... I will tell you this though: yesterday evening, I saw him leaving for town with the clown boys and he came back pretty muddled," Cheetah explained, his voice was low as if he were worried the ringmaster might walk by and hear him gossiping.
"What do you mean 'muddled'?" I wondered, furrowing my brows in confusion.
Cheetah pursed his lips together and hesitated to give me an answer but after a moment, he said, "I know you're a little too young to understand... or maybe you do, I don't know... he was drunk-" the moment I heard that word, I froze. I've only ever heard that word when I was with my father and he was drinking whiskey and gin with his friends. Those times that I would endlessly serve him and he would go to bed dizzy and incoherent; for a time, I thought he had me serving him poison, "Maybe it's just him, but it seems like all young people his age- including me, I won't deny it- want to experiment with the more 'adult' leisures."
Without another word, I remained there deep in thought. My dearest friend whom I've known since I was six and had never once fallen victim to those adult beverages that had corrupted my father... he had been drinking. If that man becomes as tainted as my father was, I don't know what I'll do; I think I'll try and run away. I don't want to deal with that again, not from my childhood best friend.
In my moments of thought, I abruptly became aware that I was watching a familiar face make his way towards me from the distance. I grumbled.
"Speak of the devil..." I mumbled. Cheetah hummed, for he was also watching the ringmaster stride towards us. I scooted away from the tamer and attempted to hide in the darkest corner of the cage but to my dismay, TomCat still found me when he had arrived.
"Good afternoon, Cheetah! Demon," he greeted enthusiastically, although I could tell by the look in his eyes that he had lost sleep and was struggling to stay awake. Cheetah acknowledged the man with a respectful nod, but I refused to comply. Instead, I remained tucked away in the corner with my knees up to my chest and my eyes glued to the line of trees that was so close yet so far from the cage.
"Look... I'm sorry you're in a cage but this is for your own good. It would be bad news if you accidentally kill anyone here," TomCat attempted to reason but I merely turned further away from him and ignored him.
In the corner of my eye, I saw the ringmaster's expression change. A frown crossed his face and the weight of it seemingly pulled the rest of his face down with it. His eyes darkened under his heavy brow and the bags under his eyes made him appear even more exhausted. I didn't like that look; it was new and different and not in a good way.
"You can't ignore me all day, Demmy... sooner or later you'll talk again," he spoke solemnly and even though he may have been simply telling me something; the manner in which he both said it and appeared while he said it made his words seem almost threatening. So much so, that I finally turned to look at him and he gave me one last long, emotionless look before turning and walking away.
"Huh... Demmy. That's a nickname I've never heard before!" Cheetah's attempt at lightening the mood TomCat left was just that; an attempt. However, it didn't do anything to relieve the shock that I was in over the ringmaster's sudden change in attitude toward me. I knew at that moment that TomCat wasn't the great ringmaster I painted him to be after all... simply because of one failed show at the Grand Opening.
...
It's not fun when your only means of burning energy is walking in blind circles in a cramped lion cage. It's agonisingly boring and often I find myself in a corner in favour of taking a nap to pass the time away. Unfortunately, my naps never last long enough due to my abrupt change in sleeping conditions. I'm used to the comfort of a warm, soft bed with blankets while the sound of Tom's soft breathing next to me provides a calming lullaby. Here, it's cold, hard, itchy, and it smells of animals.
The only events of interest worth noting in my secluded area when I am awake are when a small crowd gathers outside of my cage to observe me while others ask Cheetah questions. It's only when they hear of the Lion Incident do they grow appalled and retreat back to the other attractions in favour of some more pleasant entertainment. Aside from the crowds, Cheetah provides some decent conversation.
I wasn't featured in tonight's performance so I couldn't see what went down in the Big Top, but Cheetah described for me what happened and told me that I would be featured again next week. I wondered if I would have the same act; or would I be put in chains and treated as if I was a lit fuse ready to explode? I'm sure TomCat would change something in my act. I knew it.
Speaking of the ringmaster, he came by once the circus was closed for the night and he wanted to apologise again. This time, I allowed myself to hear him out but I continued to ignore him. I would've said something to him, but he didn't sound sincere when he spoke. Even when he offered me a blanket to keep me warm throughout the night, I refused to answer him and he was forced to walk away, defeated once again by my lack of forgiveness.
However, I regretted my life decisions later that night because the temperature dropped to unbearable levels and it became colder than the Swiss Alps! I tried to bury myself under the layer of hay in the cage but it didn't help at all and I spent the whole night shivering in a corner.
I must've fallen asleep in the night eventually (or died of hypothermia and came back to life, I'm not sure), for I woke up the next morning with a start. TomCat was at my cage with a plate of breakfast and a blanket. He smiled half-heartedly and offered the plate and the blanket to me.
"Happy Birthday," he greeted softly. I stretched and yawned, my brain wasn't quite awake to fully register what he said but once it did, I rubbed my eyes and hummed in bewilderment.
"Seeing as how it's your birthday, I decided to make you some breakfast. I hope you like it," Tom stated, carefully tilting the plate so that it fit through the bars. He set it down in front of me, along with the blanket beside it and I cautiously came up to the bars.
"Th-thank you..." I mumbled. I knew he was probably just trying to earn my forgiveness again but there was no way that I would turn down a free meal like this, especially on the day that I finally turned nine! I took the plate and the fork that Tom offered and I gratefully ate the food while wrapped up in the warm blanket. Tom smiled at me, happy to know I accepted his gift.
I ate my meal in silence while the ringmaster enjoyed a hot cup of coffee. He was leaning on the bars and staring off into space, a relieving gesture for me as he didn't try to make conversation or apologise. I was able to eat in peace and enjoy the meal I was given.
Unfortunately, however, my peace didn't last all throughout the meal. Tom eventually turned to me and broke the silence by asking, "So how do you like the eggs?"
I offered a small smile, "They're good."
He smiled and yawned, before taking yet another small sip of coffee from his mug, but after realising, to his dismay, that the mug was empty, he frowned and set the mug down on the edge of the cage. I finished off my eggs and set the plate down beside the bars for him to take.
"So do you feel nine?" he wondered, staring off into the distance with his focus not particularly intent on anything. I shook my head and stuck my fork in my mouth to get whatever was left off of the piece of cutlery.
"Thought as much..." Tom mumbled, pulling his coat tighter over his body to keep warm. It grew silent again but this time, the situation had gained an air of awkwardness. Neither of us had anything to say but Tom clearly had words that he couldn't effectively form into a sentence. We remained in silence until finally, Tom let out a sigh and reached into his pocket for a shiny golden pocket watch.
That must be new. I thought to myself, beholding the watch's fresh, shiny, gold polish.
"Unfortunately, I have to go and get ready... but I'll be back around noon with lunch," he explained, closing the watch's lid and shoving it back in his pocket. He looked over to me, a small grin pulling at the corners of his lips; with one hand through the bars of the cage, he motioned for me to come closer with his finger.
I hesitated, preferring to stay away because of my residual anger towards him.
"Come here," he insisted, that grin finally showing through with his amusement. Finally, I scooted over, still reluctant to get too close and Tom reached towards me, grabbing the chain that was attached to my neck and pulling me closer. I resisted and tried to pull away but Tom was stronger and he managed to pull me close enough to be within a few inches of his face.
I was mentally panicking, anticipating what he would do as my heart pounded in my chest. Tom, to my surprise, placed a delicate kiss on my forehead and let me go. I was in such a state of shock that I couldn't move and I remained there between the bars of the cage. Tom chuckled, took up my empty plate and his mug in hand and walked away, that familiar peppy bounce to his step making him appear high and mighty rather than childish.
Eventually, however, he turned his head to look back at me and he laughed at the situation I was in, forcing me to snap out of my shock and look around. I realised, to my delight, that my head fit through the bars of the cage, which meant that my scrawny body could also fit.
I squealed with joy as I wiggled my way through the bars, just enough to be free despite the chains. All I needed was the key to unlock my chains and I would be free to roam around wherever!
Perhaps Tom truly was making an effort to be forgivable. I could find myself able to forgive the man if I could be free.