• I remember when I had a name. It was such a long time ago. I can hardly remember what it was. But then that’s what living in a Circus of Death does to you. I often look back and wonder that if I had lived that day differently, maybe I would still have a name. Or a home. Or no huge, dark, looming bat wings hovering in the sky above me, attached to my back. They would actually be dang cool, if they weren’t such a nuisence when I wanted to, say, walk through a door. Take just this morning for example. my assistant, moliku, was yelling at me, demanding i get up, because the circus was already opened. of course, moliku ended up sprawled on the floor. hey. he deserved that kick. but i got up anyway, and walked out my door. or tried to, anyway. my wings snagged on the doorframe, and a screech escaped my mouth. "DAMNit!" i yelled, "not again!" cursing under my breath, i gently folded my wings and stepped through the door, this time without any mishaps.
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