Another chapter, this is Sarah's POV. It won't change till awhile. All chapters will be over 2000 words, if I cant it'll be over 1000 or 1500. PROMISE!

Disclaimer: I don't own Darren Shan characters.

Please enjoy the chapter.

Steve pressured Mr. Aresnault to let him keep the flyer. He said he wanted it for his bedroom wall. Mr. Aresnault wasn't going to give it to him but changed his mind. He cut off the address at the bottom before handing it over.

After school, the four of us - More-More and Sammy-son went to the mall to shop - met outside and studied the glossy flyer.

"I wish it was real, but I know it's fake." I sighed.

"What, why?" Allan asked.

"Um they don't allow freak shows anymore, duh." I told him. "Wolf-men and snake-boy most likely don't exicist. Plus Mr. Aresnault said so himself."

"It's not fake," Allan insisted.

"Where'd you get it?" Tommy asked.

"I stole it," Alan whispered softly. "It belongs to my big brother."

Alan's big brother was Tony, who is still in 12-grade cuz he failed twice. He's huge and mean and buff...and well I use to have a crush on him.

"You stole from Tony?" I gasped. "I'll miss you Alan, you were a great friend."
"Stop with your goodbyes, I'm not going to die," Alan said. "He had it in a pair of pants that my mother threw in the washing machine. I stuck a blank piece of paper in when I took it out. He'll think the ink got washed off."

"Smart thinking." Steve stroked his chin like an evil genius.

"Where did Tony get it?" I asked curiously.

"There was a guy passing them out in an alley," Alan replied. "One of the performers, Mr. Crepsly."

"The one with the spider?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah," Alan answered. "only he didn't have the spider with him. It was night and Tony was on his way back from the bar."

Tony's not old enough to get served in bars, but hangs around with older guys who buy drinks for him.

"Mr. Crepsley handed the paper to Tony and told him they're a traveling freak show who puts on secret performances in towns cities across the world. He said you had to have the flyer to buy tickets and they only give them to people they trust. You're not supposed to tell anyone else about the show. I found out only because Tony was high spirits - the way he gets when he's drunk - and couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"How much are the tickets?" Steve asked.

"Twenty-three dollars each." Alan replied.

"Twenty-three dollars!" We shouted.

"Nobody is going to pay twenty-three bucks to see a bunch of freaks." Steve snorted and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I would." I stated.
"Me too." Tommy agreed.
"And me." Alan added.

"Sure," Steve mumbled. "but we don't have twenty-three bucks to throw away. So it's academic, isn't it?" we all sighed sadly.

I thought about going as Tommy and Alan were talking. I really wanted to see the spider, Madam Octa. To tell the truth I use to hate spiders, all creepy and crawly. But that kinda died away over the past years, now I'm fascinated about them.

"Are you sure we don't make enough?" I asked.

"Well I got eight-fifty." Alan murmured.

"I've got eighteen dollars exactly," Steve counted.

"I have ten dollars and forty cents," Tommy said.

"And I have twelve dollars and thirty cents, that I've took from my sisters wallet," I told them. "That's more than forty-nine dollars in all," I said, adding it up in my head. "And of course we don't have enough. So much for that." I sighed, then put on a brave face.

"Maybe not," Steve grinned, he had a plan and I knew it. "My mom keeps a wad of cash in a jar at home. I could borrow some and put it back when we get allowance-"

"You mean steal." I wisecracked.

"I mean borrow," he snapped. "It's only stealing if you don't put it back. What do you say?"

"How would we get the tickets?" Tommy asked. "It's a school night. We wouldn't be let out."

"I sneak out," Steve imputed. "I'll buy them."

"But Mr. Aresnault snipped off the address," I reminded. "How will you know where to go?"

"I memorized it." He grinned. "Now, are we going to stand here all night making up excuse, or are we going to go for it?"

We looked at each other, then - one by one - nodded silently.

"Right," Steve order. "We hurry home, grab our money and meet back here. Tell your parents you forgot a book or something. We'll lump the money together and I'll add the rest from the pot at home."

"What if you can't steal - I mean borrow - the money?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Then the deals off. But we won't know unless we try. Now hurry!"

With that, he sprinted away. Moments later making up our minds, Tommy, Alan, and I ran too.

The freak show was all I could think about that night. I tried to forget and I always forget things easily. But this was a new story. It sounded so weird: a snake-boy, a wolf-man and a performing spider. The spider especially excited me.

My parents never seemed to take notice. But my sister Raw-poo - also known as Robyn - knew something was up. She can be annoying and a pain in the ass at most times, but I'm glad I have a sister who is free wheeling and easy to joke with. She doesn't run to mom ratting me out if I done something wrong or bad, it's a rule we made between yourselves. We keep secrets as if each other is our personal diary.

"Idiot, why are you acting so weird?" She said while poking my face. I brushed her hand away in annoyance.

"Nothing you little turd." I snorted. She grumbled at the news nickname for her.

"I know they're something wrong," she grumbled. "You've been acting weird all night."

I knew she would keep on till I told her the truth, it's one of the things she picked up from me. So I gave up and told her about the freak show.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," she cooed agreeing. "But there's no way you'll get in."

"Why not?" I asked.

"I bet they only allow adults and not four-year olds like you."

"They probably won't allow fat face freaks of natures like you, it would be insult to the other freaks," I spoke sternly. "But me and the other would be okay." that upset her, so I apologized. "Gees, that sounds mean of me. I'm sorry Raw-poo," I murmured. "I'm just pissed that your...probably right." I mumbled the last part. Hating to admit she's could be right. Raw-poo smiled, as I've known she caught what I was saying.

I tackled her to the ground holding her there, she laughed and complained at the same time.

"Now take back what you said!" I ordered.

"Ah haha, never," she hissed like a reptile. "Get off of me."

"You sound like a snake." I mimic the hiss showing her.

"Yeah and if you don't get off me, that's not the only thing that'll sound like a hiss." I blushed, knowing she met she had to go pee. Leaping up, she scrambled to the bathroom.

We didn't do much after that. I hurry down the stair to the living room. Dad just had gotten home a few minutes ago so I missed his arrival.

I turned on the TV which I don't do often, and surfed the channels. Mom was cooking shepherd pie, making sure to separate the meat from the potatoes for me.

The TV wasn't amusing me any, so I popped up in the kitchen to see if Mom needed any help.

"Need help there?" I smirked as she wiped her brow.

"Actually, yes. Be a dear an unload the dishwasher for me." She asked. I saluted her as if she was Hitler and trotted over to put away the dishes. While I was there I asked her about freak shows.

"Mom," I said. "have you ever been to a freak show?"

"A what?" She asked, concentrating on cooking meat.

"A freak show," I repeat. "You know with beard ladies, men with two bellies, snake-boys."

She looked up at me and blinked to my bizarre question. "A snake-boy?" she asked. "What on Earth is a snake-boy." I thought about it but came up blank, I had a few ideas of what it might look like but I refused to say what I thought was wrong.

"That doesn't matter," I mumbled. "Have you ever been to one?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not. They're illegal."

"Well you drive over the speed limit. Isn't that illegal." I thought to myself.

"If they weren't, and one came to town would you go?" I questioned.

"No," She said, shivering. "Those sort if this frighten me. Besides, I don't think it would be fair to the people in the show."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"How would you like it," She said, "if you were stuck in a cage for people to look at?"

"There's a difference, I'm not a freak." I wisecracked.

"I know," she laughed and kissed my cheek. "You're my Sarah girl."

"Mother! Stop it!" I grumbled, wiping my cheek with my sleeve.

"You're weird," she smiled. I'm always called weird, but I take it as a complement. "But imagine you had two heads or four arms, and somebody stuck you on display for people to make fun of. You wouldn't like that, would you?"

"No, of course not," I mumbled, shuffling my feet.

"Anyway, what's all this talk about a freak show?" she asked. "Have you been staying up late, watching horror movies with Jerrica?"

Jerrica - also known as Jerka - is my older sister. She moved out of the house into an apartment with her boyfriend Jordan. They've been dating since high school, their perfect for each other. Sometime she comes over and watches horror movies with me, so we could bond. I love my older sister, I can tell her everything and my problem would be solved.

"No, not after that last one." I recalled the memory.

"Because you know I don't like you watching-"

"I wasn't, I hadn't watch any damn scary movies lately." I shout.

It really annoys me when my parents never listen. Cuz there to busy with the house, and trying to get me into collage. My dad had planned everything out since I was ten. The military would pay for my collage, after I'm down collage I'd have to work for them as a dentist for three years.

"Okay, miss grumpy pant," she barked. "There's no need to shout in this house, why don't you go help your father stack the wood."

I didn't want to go, but mom was pissed off at me that I yelled at her. So I left and went out doors to help.

My Dad was stacking the wood in orderly fashion and...singing. With sounds like a dying baby seal.

"Gonna stack the wood, yup. Gonna stack the wood, yup."

"You're doing it again," I pointed out. "Nice singing, Daddy-oh."

He stopped his singing and grumbled at me. His singing has been going on for a daily bases now, and we'll never let him live it up.

"Glad to see your here to help." he said, while picking up more wood.

I pitched in and helped stacking, my arms only hold enough to carry two stacks of wood. Normally stacking the wood would be a punishment.

My Mom flew open the door and called out for my dad.

"Tony, the phones for you." she called out. I smirked, I loved it when my Dad gets calls.

My Dad rushed up and got the phone. He wandered inside and did what he always does.

Whenever he gets the phone he'll wandered around looking out the windows as if he's getting stalked. And he'll spas out if you follow him around.

Later after stacking some wood and eating super - it was delicous by the way - Raw-poo was outside swimming in our giant pool with her friend Sydney.

I went to my room and dragged my sketchbooks from underneath my bed. I have a bunch of neat drawings or silly doodles, filling ever page. There's zillions of sketchbook under my bed full ever since I was in preschool. It started just with a drawing of a horse from my favorite movie. I don't remember the name of the movie any more though.

I spent the rest of my night drawing insects and birds from outside my window. My love for drawing was still going strong and my favorite was to draw people, mostly my friends. I'd always receive wonderful comments from friends or strangers.

Most nights I go to bed by ten, but Mom and Dad forgot about me until near twelve. Then Dad saw the light in my room when he was going to bed. He pretend to be angry but he never was, he was just saving me from the nagging that my Mom would give me.

"Sarah, go to sleep." he'd say, "or I'll never be able to wake you in the morning."

"One sec, I'm nearly done my sketch," I told him. "after this one, I'm going to brush my teeth."

"Do it quick." he ordered.

I slid my sketchbooks away under the bed. My cats Milo and Lucy loved to sleep on them.

I pulled on my pajamas pants and a random T-shirt and went to brush my hair and teeth. I took my time brushing slowly, and it was almost twelve-thirty when I got into bed. I lay back, smiling which I hate to do. I felt exhaust from warping my spine out again from hunching over my sketchbooks.

The last thing I thought about was the Cirque Du Freak. I wondered what the snake-boy actually looked like, and how long the beard was on the bearded lady. And what Hans hands and Gertha teeth did. Most of all I dreamt about the spider.

Next chapter is when I get the tickets, please R&R. It makes writing worth wild!