"So…" I hesitated. We lay awake cuddling in our coffin the morning after R.V confronted me about the animals at the Cirque Du Freak. I felt Larten's chest move as he chuckled and pulled away to look into my eyes.

"Yes?" he wondered with a large grin on his face.

"What do you think of my friend, Sam?" I asked. His smile faded into a curious frown.

"I have not seen very much of him," he replied. That was understandable; Sam mostly came during the day and didn't stay very late.

"He helps me and Evra with our chores," I explained, "He's a good worker." Larten simply nodded in response. I got a little nervous, but I decide to come right out and say it. "He wants to join the Cirque du Freak," I admitted, Larten's expression darkened, "I don't think it's a good idea, but he seems determined. I'm afraid he…"

"He will not accept who you are?" he finished for me. It was true; Sam was human and I wasn't. There was no way I could tell him. Larten nodded his head to signify that he understood my issue.

"I'm not going to worry about it now," I sighed, defeated, "I'm tired." We both climbed into our coffin as soon as the sun started to rise and fell asleep in each other's arms; exactly where I want to be.

Sam was already waiting for me when I walked out f the van late that morning. I knew exactly what to tell him; I thought about it all last night because I got barely any sleep. I didn't look in the mirror, but I was pretty sure there were bags under my eyes. As soon as he saw me his eyes lit up and he ran over.

"Did you ask him?" he asked excitedly, "Did you? Did you ask him? What did he say?" I laughed softly and ruffled his short, blonde hair.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but he said no," I lied. His smile disappeared instantly and tears brimmed in his eyes.

"But…" my small friend croaked, "But why?" I was close to tears too; just seeing Sam so disappointed broke my heart.

"You're too young," I explained.

"Evra's not much older!" Sam exclaimed, angrily. This is why I liked this kid; he wouldn't go down without a fight.

"He doesn't have parents," I countered, "He didn't have a home when he joined the Cirque."

"I don't care about my parents!" he snapped. That even hurt me; I missed my parents and no one should ever say they don't care about them.

"That's not true," I said sternly, "You'd miss them terribly." We kept arguing; he held his ground, but so did I.

"I could go home for the holidays!" he explained.

"That wouldn't work either," I shook my head sadly, "I'm sorry, Sam, but you're just not cut out for the traveling circus life; maybe when you're older." His anger molded into sadness; tears stained his rosy cheeks and he sniffed pathetically.

"I don't want to join later," he whined, "I want to now! I've worked hard, proven myself, kept quiet when you were lying to R.V. about the wolf-man yesterday. Did you tell Mr. Tall about that?" Sam wasn't letting go; I had to think of something quick.

"I told him everything," I nodded.

"I don't believe you," the young boy scowled, "I don't think you spoke to him at all. I want to see him myself." I stepped to the side and pointed to Mr. Tall's van.

"That's where you'll find him," I said indifferently, "Good luck." He took a few steps but stopped and sighed miserably.

"It's not fair," he sniffed, "I had it all planned out."

"It's not much fun anyway," I admitted; trying to comfort him, "Just imagine the winters." We shared a laugh. It felt good to have him smiling again; until his smile turned devious.

"Maybe I'll come anyway," he said mischievously, "sneak in on of the vans; Mr. Tall would have to take me then." Now I was mad; determination was one thing, but this was simply stupid.

"You can't do that, Sam," I spat. He grinned triumphantly.

"I'll do what I want," he countered, "You can't stop me."

"Yes, I can," I snarled. I was trying to scare him off, but it wasn't working. I needed something better.

"How," he challenged. I thought of something quick; I was always a good liar. I had a story that would send this kid running.

"I never told you what happened to my parents, did I?" I said slowly, "Or how I came to be in the freak show." Sam already looked freaked out; this was totally going to work.

"Um…no," he replied softly, "I wondered, but never asked."

"I killed them," I muttered darkly.

"Wh-what?" Sam stuttered, frightened.

"Yeah, I tore them to pieces," I grinned sadistically, "I go crazy sometimes; like the wolf-man. I got into a fight with my dad after dinner and just snapped; and after I killed them… I ate them!" The look on Sam's face told me he believed my story.

"You should go away, Sam," I continued, "or you might be next." His eyes were as wide as saucers as he quickly spun around and ran away as fast as his little legs could carry him. I felt horrible for doing that, but I kept telling myself that is was best for him. At least that's what kept me from breaking down right then and there.