Mark awoke in a sweat as the bright sun rolled through the open window, confused and nervous he slowly rose up. This was the first time in the past four years that he has dreamt of something other than his usual opening to the circus. Excitement filled him as it was something different in his ordinarily dull life, but he didn't understand why it was suddenly different. Could it of been that woman?

Frustrated he started to walk over to a broken window on the left side of the room, he couldn't really see what was outside due to the trees and bushes growing between the cracks. So he bent lower to see his reflection, he had dark circles under his tired eyes, and his red hair was losing its brilliant colour. He frowned and looked away from the man he was becoming. Itching his stubble on his chin, he began to walk back over to his make-shift bed grabbing his bag to pull it back over his broad shoulder. The American turned and squeezed out the hole that was under a set of bare shelves, rubbing his eyes as the harsh morning sun hit against them. Mark looked down at the quiet, abandoned street he had occupied for the night, he felt a rush of calmness as he walked back towards the inn. However, instead of interacting with the building he walked back the way he had entered the road the day before. A shadow caught his eye in the distance, but he paid no mind to it.

After a quick walk down a dark alleyway, Mark found himself around civilisation again, people all shapes and sizes wondering past him at rapid speeds. The man had to dodge out the way of a small lady who was carrying a heavy basket of bread and cheese before she could crash into him. Another woman was trying to pull her children out the way of a carriage coming down the road. Mark paused in horror, there was a black carriage being drawn by two magnificent stallions with glittering silver hair. However, due to standing in the middle of the walkway, someone had crashed into him and knocked him over. The person was in a rush and was now lost within the crowds, so Mark was held in fright on the floor until someone placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Looking up, to Marks astonishment was a man no older than forty, he helped him up with a bright smile. "Everything ok?" the mysterious man asked in an American accent. He had extremely curly brown hair that fell until it hit his shoulders, looking at his bright eyes he had dark shadows in the corner of his eyes that covered the majority of his lower lid. The red-haired man thought he looked like a sexy villain you'd see in a teenage vampire movie. Star-struck Mark was still struggling to talk, so he nodded his head, drawing his eyes away from the man's face.

With Mark now on his feet the man held his hand out, "Hello, my name is Danny." Mark grabbed the others hand and shook, compared to the hold on his shoulder Danny's grip was firm.

"Mark," he whispered, throat feeling dry. He had a terrible feeling he shouldn't trust this man, especially considering he's gone back in time? Shaking his head, he smiles back at the man and lets his hand fall back to his side again. "Thank you, but I really must get going." Mark couldn't understand what he was saying, he had nowhere to go. Despite what Mark was thinking, Danny just smiled and turned to walk away. Even though Danny hadn't moved yet, Mark was happy to be out of his gaze and walked to where his feet were taking him.

It turned out he was being pulled back to the pub he was sat in yesterday, guilt rose in him as he pushed open the door. The scenery was different, however, as the short bar was extended taking up the room where the elderly lady was telling her story. Stools lined underneath, but the most noticeable this about the pub was it was no longer as busy as it 'was' in the 'future'. He sighed sitting down close to the door in case of another mishappening.

A young girl with blond locks came up to him behind the bar, "Hello sir, what will you be having?" she asked with a smile on her face. She looked up at his hair in amazement. 'Shit' Mark forgot about his reddish hair, but she didn't make a scene about it; instead, she just held her smile awaiting a reply. Mark was about to answer when he overheard a conversation three stools across from him.

"Did you see it being put up?" a man in his late twenties asked a woman.

"No, the tent just appears out of nowhere in the old farmers' field."

"It couldn't have just appeared Amy, it must have been put up overnight," he responded leaning back on his chair looking over to Mark. His face dropped, and he whispered in the girl's, Amy's, ear. She turned, and a smile graced her lips, both looked up at Marks' hair, and the man asked: "Are you one of them, sir?" Mark was astonished, he had no idea what these people were talking about.

"One of them?" he asked, they laughed, gripping their drink tighter.

"One of the circus people!" Mark looked back at the excited characters sat in front of him and shook his head. He left a strange hole in his heart like he has betrayed someone or something special. But the man was curious and asked them where the tent was, and once they had answered him, he flew off his seat and followed their directions.

They weren't lying, there in the middle of a golden field was a glorious red and white tent, and the last of the masses of people who looked like zombies in a trance were entering. Mark stood in wonderment; it was the tent from his dreams!

He started to walk over but the closer he got to the familiar sensations his head began to throb. The feeling of gravity seemed to push him against the ground as he fell over, the gold roots felt like they were wondering their away across his body pulling his flat against the floor. He tried to lift his head up slowly but the force was too dominant, and he started screaming in pain. He tried to pull at the roots across his body, but they just tightened their grip. Mark was being dragged further against the ground face-first, he was struggling to breathe, and so his screams were starting to silence, along with the fading of his vision...