5. The Greatest Show

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✭I'm scared,It feels like you don't care✭

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I'm scared,
It feels like you don't care

I wake with a start. My parent's faces inked permanently behind my eyes. The way they dissected my every movement and thought seemed so real.

Too real.

My eyes scan the empty room as I climb down the old wooden steps. Light shines through cracks in the metal and the dirty window in the middle of the wall.

My eyebrows grow tighter as I take in the quiet room before looking up at the clock on the wall.

8:43

I'm late for breakfast. I hurry to pull off my clothes and rustle through the heap next to my wardrobe. I quickly pull on fresh clothes, stumble into my shoes, and rush out into the long corridors.

Why didn't Frankie wake me? I wonder to myself. He usually wakes everyone at 8 am every morning. Every morning it's the same routine.

Wake up, go to breakfast, and then head to the training tent until lunch.

Why the sudden change?

I stumble tiredly down the hall trying to forget the horrid nightmare that led to my awakening.

The nightmare that wore my parents' faces like masks. They had found me. They walked up to me like I knew they would in real life. They spoke like they do, looked at me like they do and to top it all off, my mother called my middle name.

Oliver.

The name she hoped would be my first all because the man she admired most in their line of work had the name and was virtually granted his gains for free because of it.

All to be disillusioned, let down by the face that is mine.

It takes little to no time before I reach the eatery. No one is here. There are no signs that anyone has ever been here.

Panic creeps up my spine like a hundred tiny spiders. A feeling similar to barbed wire seems to wrap tight around my throat, it becomes harder to swallow with the feeling.

"Where is everyone?" I whisper to myself as I look out of the old windows. The tents and equipment are still here.

I push the thought of being abandoned out of my head, take a few deep breaths, and leave out of the door to the right of me.

My eyes scan the area before they eventually land on an immense red and white tent. I follow the clamant voices that escape from the unsolid entries.

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