-1He sits on the merry-go-round as it spins and spins 'til his mind almost seems to tilt. It goes too hard for him to watch the world spin by and it's pointless besides. He knows what the world looks like, he always has. It's like a playground where the sun never shines. And he's the only one here except for the Gray-Face man and the Voices in the Squeaks… and the thing beyond the fence. There are the other things he sometimes see here and Kurama who sometimes plays with him. He doesn't know what's beyond the fence, but he doesn't like what he thinks is there. It never used to be cold, but now he shivers and tries to think of unimportant things. He might be four, sometimes is four. Time has no meaning here only the up there in the sometimes coherent mural where the sky should be.
It doesn't matter; if he thinks he's little and then more often then not he is a little boy. At least he thinks so because when he looks down he sees a child's hands. It just that once he saw what might have been him in the Showing and that boy was at least twelve. He really doesn't think he's more then four. A four-year-old in the peacock blue uniform of Head Start. Still spinning and he opens his eyes briefly. There is the seesaw he more often then not sees himself upon going up and down. When he's on it is the only time he knows what he looks like. Other times he only knows what he's suppose to look like. Times like now he hopes he looks like Kurama only not as girly. Behind his eyelids he admits he hates the seesaw.
It goes too fast, but worse is when it almost stops with him at the bottom. Up it goes and it's him Shuichi, down it goes and it's him Kurama. Maybe he's too light or Kurama really is magic but they never break even and they're the same size except Kurama is so much bigger sometimes and then he looks like the wolf from little red riding hood or the three little pigs. Pretty hungry, gold eyes and pretty white witch hair. It isn't so strange then that he doesn't want to be Kurama even though Kurama is magic and pretty and smart and well liked. Kurama who never smile except with his lips closed because… his smile is wrong somehow something about the teeth? Teeth like the things in the closet and under the bed.
The spinning is slower and he almost wants to open his eyes to see if the Grey-Face man is still pushing. Worrying never solved anything so he continues thinking about how things work here. It's always up and down like a seesaw. Back and forth, like a swing or a pendulum. Swinging back into old, worn memories like a soft, musty coat from the attic. Everything old - the feelings, the sensations, even the blood and hatred even the experience of death. The visuals are like the faded paper soft photos his mother keeps and the voices are like something off his grandfather's phonograph. He laughs because he has never had a mother or a grandfather - at least not one he could keep. Once he had heard the Showing speak in the warm, kind tones of a mother - his mother's voice.
He heard her telling someone, someone who might be him that the memories were only daydreams. Its right they are like daydreams except they're there all the time. And sometimes the voices in the squeaking of the swing, the merry-go-round, the seesaw sound like voices he should know. It's then when he's almost too far back to remember his name that it swings forward again. Forward to school, friends, mother, and he's left wishing he could jump off into it all instead of being trapped swinging back and forth. Instead of just watching it on the Showing. He craves the world of the showing so bad soon times he can't even breathe. He wants it all, even the strange stuff like how he'll talk to plants that actually listen or sometimes answer back.
There aren't any plants here or animals or even a breeze. It's just cement and dust. He can see - not that there's anything to see; it's all a grayness. The merry-go-round spins so fast now he can feel himself floating. He wonders how he can see if there's no light from the Showing nor from what he considers the ground. Maybe he gives it off from his eyes or maybe it comes from the fog outside the fence. He could ask, but the Grey-Face man never speaks and Kurama never makes sense. He used to check and sometimes walk off into the fog, but he can't remember what happened after that. He would walk off into the fog, laughing because it was like walking in a never-ending cloud. He remembers that well enough, but he can't remember what happed then only that he was back in the playground by the slide. If he hates the seesaw then he fears the slide. It's tall with a red stripe, the only sign of color besides himself and Kurama. He used to climb it, but then… He doesn't climb the slide because once - he can't remember what happened.
People are laughing in the other and it makes his stomach hurt like he wants throw up or punch something, someone. There is a particularly violent screech from the fence. Quickly he dares a peek glad to see it still there. He used to climb the fence just like he did the slide. He doesn't climb it anymore because he can't. It used to be soft and loose like a soft net he could push aside, but now its grown tense or maybe it always was tense and he was different somehow. No that can't be it since it used to have an end. It's different 'cause no matter how high he climbs he can't climb over it; and it goes to low for him to dig under - there has never been a way to go around it. Of course, he can't go through it, but from the other side something is coming through.
It's too small to be a wolf, but it's so much bigger then any dog he has ever seen. And the fence is getting weaker all the time. Even by the gate with no door, the fence is being stretched thinner, longer, and now it's so distorted it's beginning to bleed. In sympathy sometimes, his ears bleed as well. Licking his suddenly dry lips he wonder if maybe the fence is screaming in dog tones so the not wolf/dog thing will leave it alone. He can't see the Gray-Face man, but still the wheel spins faster and faster. Fast enough that he almost doesn't see Kurama kicking his legs over on the slide. He's smiling and there are entirely too many teeth in his mouth. There is another screech like a bell being crushes and he closes his eyes again.
Tries to think of all the ways the fence has held and won't break now. The creature won't get in and soon it'll give up and go away. He's lying to himself. It won't ever go away because it's like the wolves from fairy tales, and the trolls under the bridge, and the witches from his classroom primer. Some day soon maybe while he's seesawing with Kurama the seesaw will go down and stay down. Then the thing that's not a wolf/dog will eat him alive while Kurama watches with his lips closed over his monster teeth. Yes, that's exactly what will happen he thinks. That's why he stays away so far away from the fence, the seesaw, and the swings. It's why he has been trying to ignore the living sky he fell from who knows how long ago. Instead, he sits on this merry-go-round as the Grey-Face man who has two names spins it faster and faster.
He knows or he hopes that as long as he's moving nothing can get him. The Grey-Face man is back now and he is still spinning the wheel almost desperately. The Grey-Face man has two names and he knows one of them 'cause it's the same as his. The Grey-Face man is changing like the fence, because he didn't use to have a face at all. Now two huge eyes are staring back at him and they aren't the same color. Kurama doesn't like the Grey-Face man so he usually stays away. He's laughing now and the Man looks like he's going to cry.
He almost didn't hear that past the whirling of the wheel. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know there isn't a fence any longer. The unfamiliar feeling of his own pain forces his eyes open. Bright red blood runs down his leg. It keeps coming even as he wipes it away. The wounds look like scratches, but what could touch him moving as fast as he is now? He wipes his leg again absently and curls up further on the platform. It's then he realizes that the ride has been slowing down all the time. He stares at nothing trying to get back to his quiet place, trying not to see the missing fence, the coming fog, and the man in pink standing where the Grey-Face man used to be. There is a sound like crying somewhere behind him. A sound like howling surrounds him. He presses back into the center pole trying to breathe. He hopes the wheel never stops.