The first thing I heard was the creaking of my door. I was never sure where it was.

The assistants liked to place random obstructions on the ground. Seeing me stumble around, tripping right and left, was the most entertainment they would get a day. I eventually stopped trying to walk around.

I was sure it was affecting me somewhat. Doctors however did not see to people like me. If I got sick then I would die. It would not be a tragedy.

Again I heard creaking as the door was shut. I had heard one loud mouth mutter to his friend that people would try to peek in, get a peek at the freak. He is long gone. It is a shame. It was nice to hear a voice. I wasn't sure where mine had gone.

The last time I had spoke...when was it? I am sure I had spoken with my mother before I had been taken here. Though merely twelve I was sure that then was the happiest of my life. I am older now and it still was.

My mother had a beautiful voice. It was crisp and clear with a prideful accent. I am sure she had run away from somewhere. Fleeing maybe. She sounded like a queen from a distant daydream. I got her accent and I am glad. I cannot keep up with all the slang. It is hard enough when you rarely hear people.

I have slipped away again. My delusions and tendency to drift were small mercies. Through the crinkling, cheap cotton against my face, I felt them pull my outfit on. Again flashes of light sparked beneath my eyes.

Red. Red and gold. If I didn't know...she could capture a heart with that sweet face. Not mine though. A freak is all she is.

***

I was guided through the door into what I assume was the folds between the tents. Hidden from view, ready for my entrance. I could hear the drunken cheering. There would be people outside my trailer tonight. Men who want the 'freak' badge. It wasn't difficult to hear them, lurking, slovenly cheering on the fool who tries to get in. The night guards will stop them. They need me. I bring in good money.

My one benefit in this lifestyle ; I am isolated from the world, the ones who want to do me harm, and the ones who don't.

It was tiring and yet this was the life I was born into. When my mother took me to the workhouse. When we were separated. When I was bought.

I was slapped out of my reverie by the assistant next to me. I was dragged onto stage amidst gasps.

Milky eyes. Blind? She's blind?

The tapping of the cane echoed among the haunting silence filling the room. I'd been told my eyes were shocking. Blocked in with pastel colour. No pupil in sight.

Terrifying eyes; so green. Blind. Pah...useless to society.

I wouldn't know how I looked now. Rarely was any effort made to talk to me anymore.
The tapping of the ringleaders cane juddered to a halt. It was time.

Is the show beginning? Finally.. I payed a good penny.

"Ladies and gentlemen may I have the pleasure to present... our first freak! A beauty, ain't she? Sure she's blind alright but...she sees!"

Snickers fill the air at the ridiculous showman's voice paired with a poorly disguised accent.

"Tuppence for a *seeing*! Line up."

Shuffling feet and disbelieving sighs surround me. Time to begin.

I heard some shuffling around me. Three...no four people? I heard the first two step up, a couple I assume. I heard the swish of a gown on the ground, smooth like silk.

Muslin.

Oh. I understood. Many people parade around as if they were richer than they are, using all kinds of tricks. As the man stood up and took my hand I felt a ring.

I assume he was rich and was helping his lady appear wealthy, most probably to appease his family. He must love her.

I had gotten better at reading people from the sounds surrounding me. Sitting alone with nothing else to do helps you focus, very much so in fact.

and that is my first chapter! hope you enjoyed! feel free to comment because I will reply. also have any suggestions for an appropriate name for someone living in the 1880s? TELL ME
ly all
-maly