I'll Tell You a Story

The Biggest Joke of All

They call me a freak. People often look at me as a monster no one can ever imagine, nature's best mistake. It was a long time ago that uncertainty about equality gnawed at me, and I am indignant that it was true.

"You're such a waste of oxygen. You make me weep tears of sorrow for you."

I don't understand, and I will never do. The proprietor of this mangy circus did not believe I'm going to be the next fantasy, and that I was born to make this stage out of its ordinary expositions. I know I fit in the show; I just need a little timing.

"Let me interpret the complexity of things for you. You're beefcake, and it's pretty visible. But I do not tolerate delusional ignorance."

I got wind of the idea that he was the only one that connected me to fame. I'm not good in delivering bad news to myself. However, I hope my head could understand that I needed my flesh to be corrupted and my soul to be expired. Yet, I'm in vain picturing a world that I didn't have a part in it.

"You're not a freak so don't pretend like you have a sorry life. Be thankful you're not one of us. If you excuse me, I have pressing matters to do."

My eyes turn into sudden begging. Unfortunately, his face seems to be telling me it was not anymore in his orbit. The curtains' shadows hurriedly cover me and my dreams of being a part of the show.

There are thunders in my eyes and my face starts to show a foul mood. It is never in my thoughts that he will refuse magic I had at my fingertips. I hear the end of the roaring of small engines in the background. Likewise, there are precious few minutes of carnival lights left for me.

I grit my teeth in immeasurable anger as I find my way out of the tent. Different insects are chirring and birds cooing. My shoes were shiny before but are now caked with mud. In my head, I became a cast-off since he knew from the very first moment he saw me on the stage that I was a record oddity. My aura of glory awaited me but I find it difficult now to attune myself in this world of anomalies. My determination, fortunately, nudges me to keep my hope.

"You're sick!"

A freak struck me with horror with her look. She has three heads but sharing the same body. The middle head's eyes are fiery as red suns. I am certain that she was the one who spoke to me.

"I'm in the pink!"

She was not a square in her tongue. I am not just a psychopath that wanders in the streets of night and kills a beggar. In fact, I am really not. I am a freak, a monster searching for a family. And this calls for action.

Later that night, I return to the maze of tents. I am not such a green circus performer, and I will prove that. They had planted it so deep in my head, the taunt in their faces.

The thunders of claps begin to pick up steam. In my cloddish costume, I break in behind the stage. It is not easy, and I have to kill some watchmen, but it will be worthy.

"Ladies and gentelemen, let
us be amused of the..."

I cut it off as I step into the stage. My appearance immediately freezes them. I have a porcelain mask—I sewed up the mask in my mouth. Their faces look at me in confusion and sadness, so I weep for their sudden sentimentality.

I take off my mask and show the freaks and the crowd the biggest joke of all. Some vomit as their eyes fixed on me. They are shocked beyond horror. My jaw is already ripped. What makes the scene grimmer was the uncontrollable gushing of blood. My supposed-to-be-colorful costume becomes bloodstained. What they witness easily throws them for a loop.

The curtains, once again, try to stop me. But it is not the end of the show for me because...

"We're just getting started!"