Circus Freak

Obligatory Disclaimer: ATLA isn't mine. It belongs to Bryke.

Circus freak.

The insult stings more than she'd ever care to admit, doubly so when it's delivered in that cruel, mocking tone.

It's not the first time she's heard it, and she knows that it's not likely it'll be the last, she knows.

But she vows that she'll never go back to the life she once left behind-just another painted doll in a matched set to be married off, like all of her sisters. She remembers her oldest sister's broken sobbing as her parents signed the contracts to marry her off to a man over twice her age. She swore to herself then that would not be her fate.

For her, the circus was the answer to her prayers-the circus meant freedom, liberation, and the opportunity to make her own choices and live life on her own terms. She would get to stand out, shine, be noticed, and be praised for her unique talents. She would wear pink instead of Fire Nation red. She would not be lost in the shuffle.

She may have been a "circus freak" but she would damn well take that over the alternative any day.

A/N: Not that good, but this has been rolling in my head for a long while. Glad I finally got it written. Reviews are appreciated, but not necessary. ^^