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The mob charged and many jumped at the chance to push someone in the pit. Hugo sprang forward to push Madame Lulu, but bumped into the box that the white-faced women held. The three of them fell in a pile near the edge of the pit. Colette tried to contort her arms to grab Madame Lulu's ankles, but her hands twisted all around one of Esmé's shoes. The hook-handed man tried to grab Violet and Klaus, but his hook got tangled in the wire connected to the reporter's microphone. That woman with the dyed hair tried to push Violet and Klaus in as well, but I grabbed their sleeve and yanked them out of the way. The woman fell into her husband, who accidentally slapped the man with the pimples. They began to argue loudly. More people grouped together to argue as well. They yelled, pushed, and preyed on each other as if they were wild animals. They made the ferocious lions look tame.

We were surrounded by a mass of utter chaos.

Someone else tried to lunge for the Baudelaires who jumped out of the way. A man with a t-shirt that said Caligari Carnival on it accidentally knocked into me while trying to aim a punch at another man. I fell to the ground, losing sight of the Baudelaires and Madame Lulu. I tried to crawl around to avoid being pushed. But that proved to be unsuccessful and I was nearly trampled by a very hefty man. I got to my feet and looked around, my eyes falling to the pit of lions.

As I watched, the lions roared furiously below, snapping at one another. I couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Madame Lulu had said these lions were once noble creatures who could smell smoke and save lives. Now they were starved and beaten. Once they had been tame and loyal yet the brutality had turned them into the beasts that they're made out to be. They would rip and tear at anything or anyone who came into their path—out of rage, out of grief, out of fear, and the animalistic instinct to kill. They had been pushed over the edge and were driven mad by hunger. As I looked back at the mass of humanity preying, yelling, and fighting, I couldn't help but compare them to those lions. They didn't seem too different in the slightest. These people were just as ferocious and violent as those lions. So maybe the animalistic instinct did not just pertain to lions or other ferocious animals. Though humanity seemed far more horrible than those lions. The lions had been turned into such beasts from being tortured. The humans, however, fought over such trivial matters. Seeing this, made me think of my plan to push Madame Lulu into the pit to save the Baudelaires. I hung my head in shame. How could I ever allow myself to turn into a monstrous, violent being? It may have been to save the Baudelaires life but that didn't make it any less cruel. I didn't want to turn into someone who loves sloppy eating and violence. I shuddered. I would just have to be glad that I didn't have to follow through with the plan. Imagine how horrible that would have been!

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and started to make my way through the crowd again when I bumped into someone. I stumbled back and tried to look for a clear path out of here. But whoever it was had grabbed my arm and I was face to face with the bald man, his lips curved into a wicked grin.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said, taking a step toward me. I stumbled backwards again.

"Stay back," I said and was about to move swiftly past him, when I felt myself be pushed onto the ground near the edge of the pit.

The bald man stood over me, laughing cruelly.

"You're just a little menace," he said, "that's what you are."

"You're revolting," I said, rising to my feet and brushing the dirt off my clothes, "that's what you are."

He growled furiously and his hands clutched my arms in a vice grip. He started shaking me, his nails digging into my skin.

"Ow!" I said, "Let go! Ouch!"

He stopped shaking me. Just when I thought he would release his hold, he pushed me back farther until I was only a few feet from the edge of the pit. I stared at him, wide eyed with horror.

"Olaf says we're not supposed to kill you," he said, "but you've caused us so much trouble that I think he'll be okay with it. But no one has to know it was I. It could've been anyone who pushed you in or maybe you fell as a result of your own clumsiness." He was gradually inching me nearer to the edge as he spoke, so I was almost dangling. My feet struggled to remain grounded to earth and my heart beat accelerated as I realized at any moment, he could let go and I would plummet to my death. So with all my might, I heaved a kick at his right shin.

"Ah!" he cried in pain, dropping me instantly. I stumbled, managing to tilt forward so I didn't fall into the pit. I got up off the ground, my knees stung from the dirt that lingered in the new scrapes, already oozing blood. Except the bald man wasn't backing down easily. He roared and charged at me like a bull, his arms outstretched. I moved to the side just in time, though he still managed to seize my arm. However, he stopped almost too abruptly and lost control.

Time seemed to slow down at that moment, just so I could see every little bit. The bald man tried to steady himself on my arm, however he was far too late. He was beginning to tilt, and I could see he knew what would happen. His hand gripped my wrist tighter and started to pull me down with him. I caught myself as I neared the edge, falling to my knees again. The bald man still had my arm; nevertheless I braced myself as best as I could.

The bald man was falling and the starving lions watched and waited for him to fall into their reach. I know it was probably crazy, but despite everything, I reached for the bald man's other hand. I tried to pull him up before he fell too far. However, I was barely strong enough to keep him dangling; I wasn't strong enough to pull a fully-grown man out of a pit.

And now, I had even more trouble on my hands because the lions spotted the bald man dangling over the pit like a hunk of meat. Some of them were jumping up, trying to reach him. One lion's claw scraped the sole of his foot. He screamed in pain and I struggled even more to pull him up.

"I'll help you," I cried desperately over the lion's furious roars, "just try and pull yourself up. You can still make it."

"I don't need you to help me," the bald man said, wincing in pain. "If I'm going down there, I'll take you with me. Get ready to meet a deadly—"

But the bald man never got a chance to finish his sentence. One of the lions had been watching the bald man as he swayed; it's eyes following his every move like a dog's eyes watch a bone. It had been determining the best approach to getting its prey. Now that lion was done waiting and he had thought it all through. Suddenly, the lion sprung, using its hind legs to give it a powerful boost. It soared up, stretching its body out. His paw stretched out, its claws were blades. The lion was probably about eleven feet high in the air. It was horrifying yet incredulous at the same time. With one swipe of its paw, it snatched the bald man at his chest just as he was about to threaten me. The other paw clasped his back, its claws pierced through and the bald man's beady eyes were wide in utter horror. He was pulled down with such strength that he was forced to let go of my hand.

The lions pounced on him, fighting each other even, to get a piece. What I saw next was so mortifying that I would probably never sleep again.

When the bald man had let go, I had begun to lose my balance, but just as I thought my fate was to be devoured, I was swiftly scooped up and carried away. There was a high pitched, deafening noise and I realized it was myself, screaming. I stopped screaming, though I couldn't halt the tremors that moved up and down my spine. I looked up at my savior and was surprised to meet a pair of green eyes. Esmé.

She placed me on my feet in a spot far from the pit and waited until I could steady myself before she let go.

"What were you doing?" she hissed, "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

I shook my head, unable to speak. Images of the bald man's body being ripped apart by those lions tainted my memory and my stomach began to feel queasy. I broke down into dry sobs. Esmé patted my head, her face pinched with obvious discomfort.

"The bald man is dead," I managed to say, "but I didn't mean for it to happen. I tried to save him…"

"Well, it doesn't matter," Esmé said her frown disappearing, "Madame Lulu is dead too and that means the freaks are being recruited. Now, get out of here before you fall in too. Go wait near the freaks' caravan and I'll send the freaks there. We're burning down this carnival and leaving."

My eyes widened. I hated the thought of Olaf setting another fire.

"Why does the carnival need to be burned down?" I asked.

"To destroy any evidence that we were here, of course," Esmé said as if it were obvious, "Now stop asking questions and get out of here. Oh, and you may want to grab your things unless you want them to be burned too. Though I can't imagine why you would want to wear any of the out clothes you usually wear."

Esmé gave me a shove in the right direction and without anywhere else to go, I hurried away from the pit. As I did, I scanned the area for any signs of the Baudelaires. I grabbed my suitcase from the tiny room I had occupied during our stay and took it with me. When I exited the guest caravan, many of the other caravans and tents already had smoke wafting from them. Familiar flickers of orange devoured every inch as hungrily as those lions. I shuddered and stared as the man with the pimples rushed by, shouting in fright about the fire. I felt tears in my eyes again as I watched the world crumbling to pieces by these monstrosities. When did everything get so messed up? Where has all of the good in the world gone? It seemed everything had gone up in smoke.

I wiped my eyes and cleared my thoughts. I needed to find the Baudelaires. Maybe if I got to them before Count Olaf or Esmé, I could warn them. I was about to head for Madame Lulu's tent to look when a thought occurred to me. Before I could find the Baudelaires, something else had to be taken care of first. I changed direction, heading instead for the gift caravan.

It was one of the caravans that hadn't been burned yet and I swung open the door, my eyes scanning the room. I quickly moved from aisle to aisle, searching for it. Finally, I saw the owl figurine, perched on one of the higher shelves. Someone must have moved it. I reached up, my fingers barely brushing the smooth surface. I placed a foot on the lowest shelf to give me a bit of a boost and managed to grab it. I got down and just as I was about to slip it into my bag, I heard a gasp. With a start, I looked up and hid the owl behind my back.

A woman wearing a uniform and a small name badge was gaping at me with eyes like saucers.

"Um…" I said, "I was just, uh."

She didn't speak but her eyes moved to my arms, holding the owl figurine behind my back. With a sigh, I brought it out from behind my back.

"You caught me," I said, "I was taking something, but the carnival is being burned down and I had to grab it before it was too late. It's very special to me because I used to know an owl who looked exactly like him." I paused, waiting for the woman to start reprimanding me and accuse me of being a thief. But she was silent and still as if she were a statue.

"Are…are you alright?" I asked.

Finally, the woman blinked and raised her hand to point one of her fingers at me. "You…" she said so softly that I had to strain my ears to hear, "you're…one of them."

"Excuse me?" I said uncertainly.

"I saw you," she said, "You can do things…I've seen your kind before."

"I don't understand," I said furrowing my eyebrows.

"The branch," she said lowering her hand, "things like that don't just happen. You're one of them."

"You mean there are other people who can…move things without touching them or do other strange magic-like things?" I asked.

The woman nodded and relaxed a bit.

"But I don't mean to do those things," I said, "They just happen."

"I know," the woman said.

There was silence, as neither of us knew what to say.

I wasn't surprised by what the woman said; in a way I always knew that I had magic-like abilities. I just couldn't make sense of them. Though I did wonder if perhaps those abilities could be controlled like how Matilda could control the powers she possessed. Curious, I placed the owl on the shelf once more. I stared at the figurine hard and held out my hands, focusing my energy into making it move. It jostled a bit, making me start and lose focus. I concentrated again and the owl jerked again as if it were attached to an invisible string. I concentrated even more. To my surprise, the owl figurine jostled again and then, hovered in midair. I reached my hands out and concentrated on pulling the owl to me. It floated into my outstretched hands. My eyes widened in amazement. I knew I had strange powers, though I never knew how to control them until now.

"Wow," I said.

I handed the owl to the woman but she refused to take it. "No," she said, "take it with you. But keep it hidden."

"What's so secret about it?" I asked.

The woman opened her mouth to respond when she was cut off by a loud noise. I grimaced when I recognized the terrible laughter of Count Olaf and Esmé Squalor. They seemed to have reached the gift caravan now. The door to the entrance swung open.

Quickly, I stuffed the owl into my suitcase and the woman guided me towards the back of the caravan.

"There's a back entrance," she said, quietly, "now go."

I nodded and rushed to the back where a back door stood. I flung it open and hurried across the grounds of the carnival, searching everywhere for the Baudelaires.

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Next chapter will be the last for TCC and the beginning of TSS!

And did any of you see the Hunger Games movie? I saw it yesterday and it was AMAZING! :)