FREAK SHOW

Freak Shows

Freak shows

~I am not a beautiful human, but then again who really is?" -o.h

            On a seemingly regular Friday, Scarlett woke with a start as the loud church bell rang out; it's chimes were booming and clear. The sound came from the tiny church across the street, where practically the whole town went on Sunday mornings. The bell indicated it was seven in the morning as usual.

            Trying to rub the sleep away from her eyes, she stifled a yawn and crawled out of her single bed. Her room was plain white with a tiny bookshelf in one corner decorated with candles and miniature potted plants on top, a dresser in another corner, and a bed. The only thing decorating the walls was a calendar. Some would say it was boring.

The light yellow sheets of her bed were sprawled across her carpet from her kicking them off in her sleep; the only remaining thing on her bed was the white pillow. She always managed to do that unknowingly at night, it was strange but she didn't think much of it. Her house was quite stuffy at night and the blankets only made her hotter.

            She heard the faint sound of the clattering of forks against dishes and the soft murmur of talking outside her door, coming from the kitchen undoubtedly. Her parents were awake as usual.

Quickly tucking in her sheets and fixing the bed, Scarlett trudged into the kitchen. The kitchen was small and homely, warm with cooking. Faded wooden green cabinets, pantries, and countertops decked the sides of the room. An open window with pale pink curtains fluttered, showing the dark outside, lampposts down the street still on. A wooden oak table sat in the middle, a group of chairs circled around it, and a vase filled to the brim with colorful flowers sitting in the center of the table. Statues of chickens were strewn around the kitchen, showing the country theme her mother was striving for. The usual cinnamon scent of the room mingled with the delicious crispy aroma of sizzling bacon and fresh eggs.

The moment she walked in, her mother spun around with a bright smile on her face and spatula in her hand. She was always a morning person. Her mother was a pretty woman with thick curly blonde hair, large vibrant green eyes, and faint wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and mouth, a telltale sign of someone who laughed and smiled a lot. She was also tiny, fragile almost. Scarlett had inherited the same golden blonde hair -despite her hair more wavy than curly-, eyes, and slender physique. Today, Ma was dressed in a pastel blue sundress that fell over her swell of a belly and her mop of curly hair was bounded into a bun with a few coiled tresses falling down.

"Sweetheart, you're up!" Ma greeted, grinning and waving the spatula in the air happily. Scarlett did not understand her mother's unneeded enthusiasm in the morning but did not let it bother her.

"About time," She heard her father grumble to her right.

Sitting in a chair around the wooden table, sat her father who was reading the newspaper, his eyes not even glancing up at her, while munching on a slice of bacon. Pa was a tall, muscular, and broad shouldered man with warm blue eyes, dark brown hair that was slowly greying, and a slight beard growing along his defined jawline. Her father was a handsome man, and fortunately for Scarlett a few genes of his were found in her along with her mothers.

Today, he was dressed appropriately for his job, the sheriff, in his standard uniform -a tan buttoned up shirt with the police department badge stitched on it, black pants, his shiny golden sheriff's badge, and alarmingly a belt strapped around his waist with a revolver. Next to him on the table was his sheriff hat that looked similar to a cowboy hat. A town so small, out in the middle of the countryside, can still reflect the wild west it seemed.