And there it was, it began. They were back and it had begun. The circus, the flight of fancy, the dance, the color, all of it, all of it was there and it was there to start, it had started, the bow was in two, the red stripped into two, the splashes all over the places, the whites and the blues, the black stripes and the big orange dots, everything, the red nose and the smile, the horses and the music, everything, the balloons, the fancy big heart shaped pink balloons on the ceiling, they were there, trapped, they were there, waiting, wailing, screaming, shouting, laughing, hysteric laughter piercing through the walls, big brown eyes staring, staring, ogling, staring at him, sternly, ogling at him, blubby stares and he couldn't take it, not any more, he couldn't take it.
But he was caged. He was locked, he was strapped. Strapped to the bed, hands in brown, legs in black, strapped. Strapped so hard, he couldn't itch, couldn't move as the knife came closer, a joker's knife, it came closer, it was silver and it shined, it gleamed as it inched forward, it moved, it swayed as the smile widened, the smile widened as the tip touched his stomach, his bare stomach, left wide open, and he couldn't hide it, couldn't move that flimsy cloth of white and blue prints, and the knife was there, the tip hurting him, hurting but not piercing, hurting, cold shivers down his spine and it hurt, but there was no blood, not a tear, not a gash, but a tear, a stream of water running down his eyes, blurring his vision, blurring it, distorting it, but he could still feel it, feel the cold edge of the knife, he could still feel it, the shivers, the shivers as he tried to remain calm, the shivers as he tried to move, move but away, shivers as he held on to the rail, the cold placid rail next to his fingers, he stared, but didn't see. Didn't see the smile widen, those white tooths larger, that black hole smarter, didn't see the joker move away, but heard him, heard the steps behind, heard him, heard the laughter, that laugh, it shook his soul, he heard it again and again, again as the joker left, left into the wide open he couldn't see, and couldn't fathom, left his world as the horses looked at him. Left him for the horses.
The horses, pink little horses, pink and bubble gum pink, it looked at him, he felt it, felt the stares like pinpricks on his soul, felt it like he had felt the joker's knives, but he couldn't see still, the tears were there, running, running, he couldn't see. Was it the horse, those horses tied to the center, dancing to jingle bells, was it the horse, but it became bigger, those horses, they were becoming bigger, closer to him, they came, bigger horses, they followed him, he could see them now, they stared at him, evil, evil cunning stare, they looked at him, he felt it, he knew it, he saw it, his eyes were dry and he saw it, his wrist strapped and sore, his wrist it bled and they saw him, everyone, they suddenly turned, no more color, no more dances, but they saw him, saw that blood, that blood that spilled from his wrist and he saw it and he felt them come closer, big wide o's that were mouths, big wide mouths that were horses, stares and pinpricks, he wanted to run, run away, he wanted the sky, the blue sky not the white wall, he wanted to jump and he tugged at his wrist, harder, he tugged, harder, he wrenched and it bled, bled, he looked it and he felt weak, but he couldn't give up, big wide o's would eat him, he knew it, they told him, and he felt it and he saw it, big wide mouths becoming bigger, no more pinks, they became bigger, they were all mouths now, all of them and eyes, evilness seeping all over, the air was different, it was all a monster, the circus was a monster and it wanted him, he wrenched and they came to him, he tugged and they laughed at him, he stared and they cried, tears and he cried, he cried again, and he knew he had lost, he cried and the monster shook his head, he was to die, he knew it.
And the colors faded.
The blues were white, the greens were gone, the reds were his blood, only his blood, not the red nose of the jokers that hopped about, it was his blood, and yellow prints they were notices on the wall, the whites were everything, overtaking everything, the orange dot but a small dot, a dot on the wall, a dot on the picture on the wall and it was the sun, the orange dot was the sun, the sun in the picture, the picture on the wall, and the pinks were bottles, tiny bottles and the colors faded, faded as he bled and he knew the end was near. Faded. He waited. Patiently, he waited. The angel was there, he was to be free, the wrist bled and he knew the time had come. And the whites took over, all over, the whites, the walls and the beds, the cold steel rails and the self, it was all white and he knew the angel was beside him, staring at him and he would be free. He smiled, he would be free. He sighed, no more jokers and no more knives, the end was there and the end was his and the smile widened. Laughter, it came to him, wide toothed laughter, melody, melody and rhythm, the laughter it shook him with the blood, music through his soul it was the laughter, and he convulsed, giant convulsions, irregular convulsions, he convulsed as his wrist bled and it was soon to end, so he laughed harder and then.
And then the angel in white kissed his soul.
- Till the next day it was to begin.
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Submission Name: A Circus on the Wall
