Thunder boomed across the sky, causing the windows above you to rattle. Lazily opening your eyes, you squinted up at the rain that was pouring down. Sighing, you pulled up the hood to your jacket, scooting closer to the old building for some additional shelter.
You curled up into a ball, resting your head on your knees. This living situation of yours had been in effect for the past couple of years.
Ever since you had discovered that you had fire magic, you were casted aside and kicked out of your own home.
"Nobody will ever love a freak like you!" Is what everyone said to you.
You have tried to get jobs here and there, but everyone knows about you. The town has dubbed you with the name 'The Burning Phoenix'.
"Damn people." You tsked at the memory. "Who the hell throws aside their own daughter... their own friend?"
You turned your head to the side at the sound of footsteps. At the far end if the street, you saw a black figure near the street lamp. It appeared as if they were putting something on the pole of the lamp.
You waited until that figure had left before you went to investigate. Approaching the street lamp, you stopped when you saw what was nailed to the post.
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"Unique persons are... wanted?" You asked yourself. You reached up towards the paper, and ripped it off of the post. You took several deep breaths before you took off running. Who would've knew that someone would want the likes of you?
_________
You had arrived at your destination, a huge brick building that had 'Barnum's American Museum of Curiosities' on the front of it. You sized up the line that was pouring out of the front door, and gulped. You prayed that you'd at least be able to get a chance to audition before the sun set.
And a chance you got...
You could barely contain your excitement as you approached the man sitting at his desk. He gave you a welcoming grin as you sat in the chair directly across from him.
"Hi there," the guy smiled at you, offering his hand in greeting. "My name is P. T. Barnum, it's a pleasure to meet you!"
"Pleasure's all mine, Sir Barnum." You smiled back at him taking his hand. Shaking it, you said, "You May call me Y/N."
Mr. Barnum took his other hand and clasped it over yours, his smile growing wider. "And if I may ask, what's your talent young lady?"
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat upon hearing his question. You withdrew your hand from his grasp quickly and looked around at your surroundings. Your eyes widened in fear when you noticed the long line behind you.
