So, We Meet Again! (Chelsey)
Jun 27, 2012 11:10:30 GMT -5
Post by Boxy on Jun 27, 2012 11:10:30 GMT -5
The sun beats down on my back without mercy, and the fire I'm playing with only makes it worse. The six torches fly before me in a big circle, creating a ring of fire. Waves of heat wash over my face as I let the torches fall into my hand, then snuff out all but one. I take a peak at the audience. Their expressions are still full of wonder and awe. Funny, I've been performing for about five years, and no one has discovered the trick to fire-breathing. Well, maybe one kid has.
I take a sip from one of my water jugs, then spew the vial stuff into the air. The flame on the torch disappears, as it the wind blew it out, and the liquid goes up in a brilliant show of red and orange fire. It goes out above my head, and I hear several people clapping.
Yes, I think one kid has discovered my tricks. A boy, maybe four or five years older than I. He had dangled a coin over my hat, teasing me. I had wanted to hear the soft clink of it landing among the other few coins that I had collected, but my hopes were dashed when he snatched it back up into his hands. He said I'd have to do better if I wanted to impress him. Only a few seconds later, he saved my life.
I light a match, then take a sip from the second water jug. I give the audience a mischievous glance, then slowly, carefully, I lower the match into my mouth. I miss urge the distance, and though it's only a small mistake, the burning flame licks my lower lip. I know I'll get a blister their soon. I ignore the pain, pulling the now unlit match out of my mouth and smiling. I lick my lips, trying not to wince as my tongue runs over the burn. It's meant to look like I ate the flame.
I remember what happened next as clearly as if it were yesterday. I was headed for home, when some guy with a knife cornered me. He said he'd been following me for years, and that he could make sure my family never went hungry again. He must've been a lunatic, because my mother died when I was three, and my father ran away from me. I was terrified of the man, but the boy who had teased me came to my rescue, claiming I was his sister. I played along, and after much threatening, the man let us to. I gave the boy a quick word of thanks, then ran off. Though it had been sincere, I wish I had stuck around a bit longer. I never even took the time to get his name.
My next act draws cries of alarm from the crowd. I light a torch, then, after pulling up the good, set my cloak aflame. It goes up in a show of sparks in seconds, flames waving before my face. I laugh, enjoying the thrill. With one final flourish, I remove the cape and let it fall to the ground, putting out the fire in the process. "Thank you, thank you all!" I say, bowing to the crowd as they slowly disperse. I then take my hat, walking around, searching for folks who will give me a coin. I get two, and just about everyone else compliments me. I just pull my good up and avoid eye contact. Because I'm so close to the people, anyone might recognize my face from the wanted poster. I absentmindedly finger my lip, feeling the newly formed blister.
