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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Fantasy · #431973
Introducing Alamus
Alamus- A Caged Bird Never Sings

Ch.1
The tents flapped in the heavy wind as Alamus was dragged from one to another. His shoulders sagged from weariness and he could barely stand of his own free will. He couldn't force his head up enough to glare at his captors. He was finally tossed aside in a corner of the largest tent and he curled up and tried to get a little rest. It was only seconds before a rough hand pulled him to his feet.
"Stand up straight, flyboy." The trainer snapped at him. Everyone called him flyboy here, or bird boy, or angel. Alamus doubted if anyone knew his real name. It didn't matter anymore. The trainer was muttering something about posture, but Alamus didn't listen. Instead, he watched the other people coming in and out of the tent in flashy costumes or carrying props and equipment. A woman walked past in a sparkling leotard decorated in blue and white sequins. Alamus recognized her as Kelli, but at show time she became one of the amazing Marzetti's. In reality none of the Marzetti's were related, even the name was made up.
"Pay attention!" Alamus felt the sting of the trainer’s hand on his face and snapped to attention, "You'd better behave tonight or you'll feel more than that." Alamus mustered enough strength for a strong, silent glare, "It's twelve hours until show time, which means there's eleven hours before you have to get in costume. You're to get some food and water before you do anything else. I don't want you looking bad for the audience. Now do you remember the routine or do I have to tell you again?" Alamus nodded sourly, "What is it then?"
"Off the platform, through the hoops, over the crowd twice, land in the center, bow and come here." Alamus muttered, looking down at the trainer's feet.
"Alright, now go!" He shoved Alamus roughly out the door and Alamus stalked over to a smaller side tent where food would be waiting for him. Inside, it smelled as if something died and Alamus wrinkled his nose in disgust. Butch, the overweight chef, tossed a plate down on the table and added a bottle of water. Alamus grabbed both and rushed out to fresh air. It took a while to find a quiet area and he ended up sitting behind a large trailer that belonged to the Strongman, also known as Kyle. He looked down at the plate and sighed. The oozing green mess on his plate was supposedly some sort of vegetable, but it looked more like a bunch of slugs someone had run over with a car. He filled his mouth with water, then shoved a spoonful of the green mess into his mouth and swallowed it all at once. Even with the water helping it go down Alamus gagged a little. It tasted as bad as it looked. He managed to get the plate cleaned off, although the plate itself probably would've tasted better than the stuff served on it. The rest of the water he polished off and headed for his own tent.

His tent contained a cot and enough blankets and pillows to keep him from freezing to death at night. He threw himself on the cot and fell asleep instantly. Ten hours later a worker woke him and dragged him to the costume tent. Inside, he slipped on his costume, a blue and white overcoat and white pants with blue trim. He cringed as the costume manager slipped a blue plastic ring onto his wrist. He hated that stupid ring. The costume manager shoved him out of the tent and he trudged sullenly over to the big show tent. The crowds were already milling about on the other side of the tent impatiently. Once inside, Alamus climbed the shaky rope ladder up to the platform at the top of one of the main support beams. The platform had three plywood walls around it, so that no one could see him as he sat through the show until his act. All of the other performances took place from the ground or a platform three-fourths as high as his and half the size. All he could do was wait for the show to start.

Trumpets blared over the loud speakers, the crowd swelled through into the bleachers, the clowns rolled out to warm up the crowd, and Alamus sat on his platform, watching it all through a slit between the floorboard and one of the walls. It was sickening to see the dozen or so people in clown outfits prancing around and making idiots of themselves, or at least Alamus thought so. He only enjoyed the fourth act, which came right before his. He sat through the lion tamer and the elephants, dozed through the jugglers, and sword and fire eaters, and kept one eye open through the Strongman's act. He always half-hoped that someone would get injured, or lit on fire, or anything, just to make things interesting. Finally the fourth act came and he watched intently as the Marzetti's swung from the trapeze or caught each other in midair. Kelli flew from one pair of hands to another with incredible ease. The final trick was performed, and the Marzetti's climbed down to the ground as two enormous metal rings were raised almost to the top of the tent. Alamus stood up silently and grabbed hold of one of the two ropes that had been sitting nearby. He pulled it and the front wall detached from the platform. He slid it out of the way and waited for his cue.
"And now, Ladies and Gentlemen," The Ringmaster's voice thundered over the speakers, "Our final act for tonight, a miracle of nature, The Amazing Avian!" The spotlights burned in Alamus' eyes for a second then went down to the rings. A dimmer light focused on him and he thought for a moment of the one thing he could do to get back at them all. With a deliberate leap he dove off the platform, headfirst towards the ground.
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