The ache for my sister, Arabella, claws at me like a relentless itch, a gaping wound that refuses to heal. The thought of her out there lost and alone, hurts me. She was the only family I had left, and she was the only person who was there for me when no one else was. We ran together, but somewhere along the way, we were torn apart. Since that day, I’ve just hoped that she is still alive, but the thought that she might not be drives me into madness. My secret search for her has consumed me, pushing me to the brink of insanity as I try to explore every corner of the United States, desperate to locate her and until I find out what happened to my sister, I don’t think I will ever find closure.
Sitting here, just the thought of her sends my heart into a frantic rhythm, hammering against my chest. My palms grow clammy, my mind swirling with the memory of her long, dark hair blowing in the rainy wind and her piercing blue eyes that would see right through me. Desperate for calm, I instinctivelyreach for my pills, stored inside the dash compartment and with trembling hands, I tilt my head back, popping a couple into my mouth before swallowing them down in the hope of squashing the anxiety that is threatening to boil over.
As the medication takes effect, I lean back with a heavy sigh, the tension slowly subsiding. I catch Eli's gaze out of the corner of my eye, but I can't bring myself to meet it, instead, I focus on the warmth of his hand sliding into mine.
“You alright?” he asks, his voice gentle.
With my head rested back, I face him, offering a soft smile. “I’m fine,” I reassure him. “We’re not too far away now and we should get there by the time it’s dark.”
His nod is filled with concern before he shifts his focus back to the road ahead, and my thoughts drift to the time when Eli first found me. He wasted no time in getting me the help I desperately needed, taking me to a doctor who prescribed medication that feels like a fucking lifeline. The pills make me numb, and offer a brief respite, allowing me to catch my breath.
Yet, despite their efficacy, I still find myself fighting with the insatiable urge to inflict pain upon myself. It is a twisted compulsion that I struggle with, especially in moments of depression. Pain, for me, is not just a beautiful sensation—it's a distraction, a means of escape from the relentless suffering in my mind. It's a contradictory haven, offering both release and peace from the chaos that rages inside me, quieting the urges that claw at my sanity.
Since my early teenage years, I had harboured the craving for self-harm. Blocking out what I was going through, I made pain my main focus, and I became obsessed with the feeling. It began innocently enough, with habits like pulling my hair out or pinching my skin since I didn’t have access to anything else,but it wasn't until I left Chicago behind that I somehow found comfort with the razor's edge.
As my eyes trace the patterns of scars along Eli's arm, I notice how different they are from mine. They aren't the jagged slashes that spoil my forearms and inner thighs; instead, they are red dots, remnants of the toxic needles that once punctured his veins. When I first met him, he was already on his prescribed methadone, a huge step in his journey toward recovery from addiction and although I've never seen him inject heroin, I have seen the toll of withdrawal and the effects of his medication. I have never judged him for it, Eli has always been open about his struggles and it has built a bond of understanding between us, even if I have not been completely truthful with him in return.
We made a pact to never harm ourselves again in such destructive ways and so far, we've both stayed true to our word.
After some time of driving, we find ourselves surrounded by woodland as I direct Eli along the route. The setting sun casts shadows through the dense forest, dimming the road ahead and he flicks on the headlights, illuminating our path.
“Take this next right turn, Eli,” I instruct, knowing we’re close and as he does, our eyes catch sight of a looming sign that reads: “Welcome to Oddity Carnival & Cirque. May your time here be terrifying, if you make it out alive.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the chilling message, and for a quick moment, our gazes meet until Eli lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. “What the fuck.”
He returns his attention to the narrow road ahead, steering us further toward the heart of the carnival. As we emerge from the overgrowth of trees and drive onward, the weather suddenly shifts and the sky darkens, becoming a shade of grey. Gloom settles over the landscape, the bright day disappearing into a sombre atmosphere.
I spot the grand entrance in the short distance, and we drive through an archway decorated with faded torn banners that flap in the breeze with flickering lights hanging over the tall, spiked fence. The pathways stretch out before us, lined with empty booths and neglected attractions, their exteriors peeling.
“It seems to be closed,” Eli says beside me.
While looking around, he seems to be right; there is no sign of life, and my confusion grows. I point with my finger towards the side of the path, urging him to pull over. “There must be someone here, E. The gates are open, right?”
As soon as the car comes to a halt, I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for the door handle, but his hand on my thigh stops me. I turn to face him, and he addresses me firmly. “Put a sweater on.”
His eyes linger on the scars on my arms, and a surge of irritation courses through me at the judgment in his eyes. Though I know they may be disgusting to some, they are a part of me and a proof of the strength I have found within myself.
With a grit of my teeth, I reach for my hoodie on the back seat, pulling it on to hide the marks and beside me, Eli follows suit, slipping into his own as if mirroring my actions.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I question, my tone full of hesitation.
“Come on, Noir. It’s not that bad. Besides, it’ll be fun once we get used to it.”
I let out a defeated sigh and open the door beside me. Once I am out of the car, I close it with a soft click, and my eyes scan the eerie surroundings. Even though the huge carnival appears normal on the outside, despite the ageing amusements, there is a noticeable weight in the air, a sense of unease. It's as if something isn't right like sinister spirits lurk in the shadows.
“I wonder where the Circus is?”
When Eli's voice breaks through the silence behind me, it causes me to jump, and I slam a palm against my racing heart. His big hands find my shoulders, trying to calm me, but I shrug them off with a flick before turning around to face him.
I'm not usually this jumpy; nothing generally fazes me. Fear is an unfamiliar feeling, an emotion I've lost beneath layers of myself, and I haven’t felt anything in such a long time whether it is excitement, fear, or even sexual arousal; the only thing that truly haunts me is depression. It’s just this place, the unsettling atmosphere; it stirs something within me that I can’t put my finger on. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that facing your fears head-on is the only way to destroy them, and even with the red flags flapping in front of my eyes, I won’t turn away.
As Eli's gaze lingers on my face, his lips part as if he is about to speak, but I seize his hand in a sudden burst of energy and pull him along behind me, not waiting for him to say a word. I take the lead, my pulse quickening with each step and my gaze follows the path of my feet, noticing the weeds poking through large cracks in the pavement, nature reclaiming the space that was once its own.
As I dodge large puddles, lost in my thoughts, I lift my head but come to a sudden stop as soon as I spot it. Eli bumps into my back, startled, but my focus becomes fixated on the towering circus in the far distance. Beneath the grey clouds, its huge silhouette creates darkness over the landscape around it. The chilly wind whispers through the surrounding trees, but instead of carrying what would be the usual scent of candy, it brings a bite that scatters over the surface of my skin.
The circus tent stands imposing and foreboding, its once vibrant red and white stripes now faint and tattered, the flags on top, flapping ominously. Around the edge of the tent and carnival, the twinkling lights that stretch from post to postshould bring comfort, but instead, they flicker and dim.. There’s an unsettling force urging me to run another way, but it's also fighting with a strange magnetic pull that is drawing me closer. I hold Eli's hand tighter and continue forward, my interest outweighing my tinge of fear.
As we approach the looming entrance of the tent, it seems to grow larger with each step, shrinking us, and just as we're about to reach the threshold, we hear a deep males voice from behind, causing us to come to a stop.
