I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.
But I do want to have a little fun here.
A Winter in Wisconsin
Sky Full of Stars
It was cold. Freezing cold.
Colder than Jimmy'd ever imagined the world could be.
But he stayed where he was a moment longer, shivering and trembling in the frozen, forgotten field outside of the camp.
Because above his head, there was a whole other world.
And it was dark. And wide. And full of stars.
There were too far many to count, all twinkling and shining and sparkling in the vast ocean of black sky that stretched all around him from horizon to horizon.
He felt like he was in a huge glass bowl and the sky was the dome lid, surrounding him on all sides.
Enveloping him, encasing him, enfolding him in a cosmic embrace of wonder and ponderings.
With the entire universe. All twinkling, shining, and sparkling and reaching out. To him.
So he could know, so he could understand that there was more than just this.
That there was an infinite expanse of space and possibility.
He could be anything, he could be anyone.
He reflexively clenched his deformed hands in their thick, warm gloves.
His hands, they didn't matter anymore. He was more than just his hands, just like Ma Petite said.
His friends believed that about him, just as he believed that about them and their individual differences.
Someday, the world would see that, would understand that. As his friends did.
All Jimmy had to do was keep going until that day came.
Keep going and help keep the others going. That was the key. Taking care of each other, helping each other along.
That was what it meant to be a good person.
It didn't matter what you had or didn't have. It mattered what you did with yourself.
And what you did for others.
What you showed them about yourself.
What you made yourself out to be.
What you chose to be.
And Ma, ever since she'd dragged herself out of her alcoholic stupor with the help of the others, had raised him, guided him, to try to be that good person.
An example to the others. An encourager. A leader.
Jimmy listened and looked and felt with his entire being, with his entire soul.
At the stars. At the black, velvety sky. At the world.
He could hear the wolves far off, howling at the bright silver of moon overhead.
He loved the wild animals. He loved their base instincts, their brutality, their honesty.
Because it wasn't self-righteous or judgmental or discerning.
Wolves and bears and other predators didn't care if you were a freak or a normal person.
They just cared if you were lunch.
The howling drifted away and all fell silent once more. Maybe the wolves were on the move, taken hunt.
Maybe they had been captivated by the magic of stars as well.
Or maybe they were just tired of howling.
It didn't matter.
All was where it was and how it was and what it was.
The world was there. Silent and still, as if all the ugliness and harshness and hate had fallen asleep.
And the goodness and possibility was waiting to be reborn, awoken.
Jimmy Darling stared up and let the beauty and truth of it swallow him whole 'til it didn't matter what or who he was.
Only that he was in the middle of it.
He knew he'd feel differently in a few minutes when the magic abandoned him and he sheepishly wondered if he'd really been out here or just whiffing mist in the opium tent.
Or when he woke up in the morning and started another day of trudging through endless chores and frigid cold.
Or he might feel differently in five minutes when he slipped on a hidden patch of ice and fell down like an ungraceful baby deer, snow dumping itself down his neck and chilling his flesh even more.
But now, just for that moment, that one bright moment, none of that mattered. Because for now, just for now, all that mattered was the sky above him, so bright, so full of stars.
And the even brighter shining sliver of moon, hanging curved in the sky. Watching over the stars, keep track of them. Lending them power to shine even brighter, even more resilient than they had before.
Jimmy Darling shivered forcefully and resumed stomping his booted feet, abruptly brought back to the world as it actually was, as the cold wind sliced through his many layers. He shivered again, huffing out from his aching lungs freezing breath that puffed out before him in white, misting clouds.
Man, I'm freezing.
And he turned and headed back across the field toward the freak show camp.
Step by step, he felt the magic draining away like liquid mercury seeping out of his body through the heavy soles of his booted feet.
He felt it go slowly and dimly mourned its passing without really knowing what it was he was mourning or that he was even mourning.
And replacing it was the return of reality, of self-conscious awareness.
Of the cold, cold, unforgiving world he had always known he existed in.
Can't remember the last time I was really warm.
He caught sight of a campfire burning in the darkness, several familiar figures huddled around it.
Maybe if he set his feet on fire, then he could get warm for a bit.
He wandered on over to check.
Don't panic, children, don't panic. Of course Jimmy doesn't dance the hula in the middle of the campfire. That'd just be silly. Unless of course it worked.
And I am not under any sort of 'influence' here. It was dark and quiet and this chapter just told me to write it. And that's really all I can tell you.
Thanks to brigid1318 and Juarana Keri for still being vocal out there. and thank you as well to Psychopathic Kitty for such an encouraging PM. :D