Free Circus of the Unseen by Joanne Owen

see her lying among the cushions, completely still and silent. I turned to face the wall and closed my eyes again.
    Throughout the night, as I slipped in and out of sleep, I was haunted by the same dream, over and over, though it felt more real than any dream. I could see Mum and Dad standing over me with Daisy tucked between them. They were all blurry and the room was spinning. Its white walls were fuzzy, and the stomach-churning stench of bleach burned my nostrils. I went to sit up, but my body was numb. I couldn’t move, but I still felt like I was falling, and I could feel Granny’s doll in my hand. That was all I could feel.
    â€˜What will we do? What are we supposed to do?’ Mum asked in this tiny voice.
    What’s wrong, Mum?
I asked.
Where am I?
    But Mum didn’t answer.
    Daisy stepped forward. ‘How could Granny have done it?’ she asked, her voice all choked and spluttery. ‘How could she?’
    What is it, Daisy? What’s wrong?
    â€˜If it hadn’t been for what Granny did, this wouldn’t have happened to Rosie, would it? She wouldn’t be lying here like this.’
    WHAT WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED, DAISY? WHY CAN’T YOU HEAR ME?
    â€˜Don’t say that, Daisy. Don’t say it.’ Dad took hold of her and she started screaming and sobbing.
    â€˜Stop it. Just stop it!’ Mum was frantic too. ‘Blame me, not Granny. Blame me. I knew about them. I knew she’d been married before.’
    WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US, MUM? WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY?
    Mum stroked my hair.
    â€˜I love you, darling. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
    She broke down on Dad’s shoulder, and Daisy started shaking like crazy, and a pale green curtain closed around us, and I screamed at the top of my lungs.
    WHY CAN’T YOU HEAR ME? WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?
    I was woken by something tickling my nose. There were fronds reaching through the open roof hatch, filling the air with the smell of leaves and sickly-sweet flowers. I sat bolt upright. I wasn’t dreaming any more. I was awake, and still in the wagon in this weird place.
    â€˜Sleep well?’ asked Scarlet. She was standing right next to the bed. She must have been watching, waiting for me to wake up. Why hadn’t she just woken me? She
should
have woken me. I hadn’t meant to stay the whole night.
    â€˜The sun coming up doesn’t really make bad things go away, does it?’ I said, swinging my legs over the bed. ‘I mean, it’s definitely not true that things always seem better in the morning. I need to go. I have to get out of here.’
    â€˜Don’t get worked up, girl. We’re going to get you dressed up real nice and then we’ll go to Mother. I was certain she was going to come last night, but you don’t always get what you want, do you?’
    Scarlet opened the cupboard under the bed. It was actually a wardrobe, stuffed with dozens of dresses and costumes. I could see at least five feather boas. ‘I’m sure we can find something for you here. It’s like a dressing-up box of the whole world, don’t you think?’ She rooted through the clothes, telling me the story of every outfit she pulled out. ‘This beauty takes me back,’ she said, swirling around with an emerald evening gown. It was split to the thigh and flicked out at the bottom like a mermaid’s tail. ‘Made its debut at the Hollywood premiere of
The Wrong Kind of Girl
. You know, the one where Marilyn plays a two-bit singer stuck in a blizzard at a bus stop with a rodeo star?’
    â€˜Haven’t seen it,’ I huffed. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure they all had an interesting story, but the way she was going on about each and every dress was starting to drive me crazy. ‘Is this going to take much longer?’
    â€˜I was a performer back then too,’ she went on, ignoring me. ‘I worked the trapeze until my pregnant belly got too