A/N: Writers block, sickness, allergies, an annoying twin brother, school work, high school drama, a sixteenth birthday I'm doing nothing for…such are the woes of life. Anyway, I dunno if I want this to be a one-shot or not…harsh critiques please!
The Child and the Clown
"Don't cry…you'll make me cry too!" A disheartened clown attempts to cheer a sobbing child. The kids' mom shoots the clown a glare and leads the boy away, hands comfortingly on his shoulder. On the surface, the circus was filled with joyful shouts and grandeur, but those who worked there knew otherwise. Should you venture past the biggest tent, all became a lie. That was where the performers lived, where each one stripped off their make-up to reveal worn, poor faces. Living conditions were unwell, but heaven to the personnel that would otherwise be deprived of even a cardboard box.
The clown glances around, gaze lingering on a small child with light chestnut hair. The boy sat in a filthy alley way, legs brought up to his chest, resting his forehead upon his knees. The boy looked utterly exhausted and the clown recognized him from the odd jobs the kid took around town. The clown notes the boy's obvious deficiency of loving parents and people to protect him. The clown though, shakes his head and returns to work.
Bark! The clown hears his dog, a dying sound. He leans by his beloved pet, watching as the animals last breath rattles out. Without looking the clown can sense someone there, standing.
"Don't you want to cry mister?" The clown glances up to see the child from the alley, staring at the animal, riled and ready for a fight.
"He was my best friend," The clown replied sadly, "His name was Pierrot,"
"I would want revenge on the fat man who shot him!" The boy declares his hate proudly, turning a glare on to the clown. The clown sighs sadly and pets his dog for the last time, body almost completely cold now.
"I might not hesitate," The clown began, "But the man guilty of this deed was my boss, and I wouldn't get my pay if I was fired…" he trailed off and truly regarded the short boy in front of him, who was able to stand tall despite a disfigured arm. "You're the one they called 'Red' aren't you?" The child's eyes cloud at the mention of his name, slight sadness quickly replaced with something of indifference.
"Yes. But sir, I could take revenge easily! Allow me to do it!" Red is enthusiastic, ready with want, nearly salivating at the mention of getting recompense for the clown's loss.
"He'll think I hired you. Don't bother, let it go," The clown turns to him making a sill face.
"That's gross, please stop, I hate clowns,"
"And I hate kids who don't laugh," the clown replied evenly. A light breeze blew around them, fain circus music heard in the small grass field where they stood. Red's frown deepened.
"Why…why don't you cry?" The boys eyes were shaded with his chin length hear and bangs, he was looking at the animal. He cradled his disfigured arm with his good one. With closer inspection, the clown could see the arm had a rough textured exterior with a crimson color, similar to blood, and a lightly glowing green cross embedded on the top of his hand.
"He was quite an old dog bound to go soon anyway," The clown's eyes flicked back and forth from the dog to the boy, resting on the curious boy so filled with pep though life was no picnic.
Sniffle. Suddenly the boy who had been so quiet not a moment earlier was kneeling on the ground by the dead animal, crying out long sobs. "He was closest to you, so why am I crying?" He was Red's friend as well, wasn't he? The boy answered his previous question, "He came up to me yesterday and licked my cheek…his tongue was so warm…he wasn't even disgusted by my arm…" he gulped loudly, trying to breathe a little bit, and then continued crying.
"Say Red?" Red paused to watch the clown anxiously, looking up. "How would you like a real name?" Surprise flashed on the boy's face before changing into something like hop. He bit his lip and nodded none the less. "How about…Allen?" the clown sounded like he was thinking hard. Allen looked at the clown, a smile beginning on his face.
"I love it!" the boys words were but sincere, almost a first for him. "Mr. Clown, what is your name?"
"My name?" The clown spoke in a goofy, deep echoey voice. "Is Mana! Manna walker! And how would you like to live with me Allen?" The young boy, destitute of any kind of warmth and proper care, for the first time smiled and hugged someone who didn't reject him.
"You don't mind?" A smile was all it took.
A/N: I apologize for mistakes; I'm going to go blow my cottony head into a tissue now. Thank you!
