Warning: This story is rated M. Expect Mature themes, no I will not change certain things to please the readers who do not enjoy gritty stories so please do not send me messages about this as I have received in the past. Thank you and enjoy. - Krystal

Chapter I

No one would notice. Not with the way they carried themselves through the street. It is not that they were too hurried, just too enthralled in their daily lives. The people of Paris were always walking leisurely. It did not matter that they had places to go to. Rushing was not in their vocabulary. And despite their leisure paces it seemed that they could not notice what was happening around them.

Each couple was wrapped in a cocoon of perfect stability and peace. The people who groveled on the side of the street were nothing to them but pieces of the cement.

Christine did not expect them to notice her as she sat in the alleyway, huddling against the wall for some sort of comfort. Her skinny limbs did nothing to shield her from the cold winds as they whipped to and fro. And when she dropped her head to her knees she was certain that her bones would crack from the weight of her head.

"I must get to shelter," she breathed shakily, looking back up to the sky nervously.

It was a cloudy day, and it was clear to her that there would be snow falling from the sky. There was a crispy scent in the air.

Standing from where she huddled Christine grabbed her wool cloak and draped it around her skinny and short frame. It did nothing to protect her as the wind blew. It tickled her frail and dry skin. It made her itchier then she already was.

But where do I go? She wondered as she began to trudge out the alley, embarrassed as she finally stepped out. Why should I be embarrassed? It is not as if anyone shall take notice of me.

Christine had been living this way for one year. Her father's measly winnings on the street held out for only a few months before she was forced to grovel at the feet of the elite. And even then she earned nothing. When she sang they looked on, admired, but never handed her a coin.

She was now sixteen years of age, and her wide blue eyes had dimmed with malnutrition, her limbs were all bone and skin, her cheeks were not pink, or pale, they were greyed with grime and residue, and her hair was thin and falling off of her head in chunks, giving her an androgynous appearance. The cloak, which had been her companion for most of her life, shielded her body. But it is hardly a cloak, she noted, it is an over-sized rag. It made it easier for her to appear less than female.

She supposed it was a blessing, there were cruel men on these streets, and often she had to hide from them in dark alleys or amongst trash. I blend right in, she thought.

As Christine walked she tried her best to keep long the wall. The broad gowns that the ladies of Paris wore took up a lot of space.

"Come see the carnival Ladies and gentlemen!" Hollered a boisterous voice as Christine turned a street corner. She narrowed her eyes in on a man standing against a street post, handing out pieces of paper, "there shall be a spectacular show of wonders and horrors for your curious eyes! Elephants on three legs! Women with no limbs! Men with no eyes! A child born of death himself! Monkeys trained for only your amusement! And spectacles that would astound even the most critical skeptic! Come see the Carnival ladies and gentlemen!" he began his routine again.

Christine approached the man curiously, her eyes widened as she took him in. He was tall with a round belly and black whiskers around his mouth. His eyes were small black orbs inside of his meaty face, and his trousers were striped red and gold, his jacket was ripped and grimy, faded but also gold and red.

He swiveled his head towards her and grinned, all black and yellow teeth, "Would you like to see the show little one?"

Swallowing nervously Christine nodded. She would like nothing more, would he grant her such a wish? She dared hoped so. How kind of him to notice my presence…

"Well do ye' have the money?" He asked curiously, stepping towards a stranger who passed by to hand him the paper, the man took it dismissively and threw it to the ground the next. Christine frowned at the rude display but it seemed to her that the man who had given him the paper did not take notice, "well?"

She shook her head.

The man made a 'humph' noise from his throat and shrugged, "then it appears you cannot see the show. Now get on little boy, I too must make a living."

Christine frowned. Cannot get into the show? Was that a challenge? she wondered and moved past him as he restarted his routine. As her foot came down she felt her toes rest upon the edge of a strange texture. She looked down to observe what it was and bent down to pick up the paper which the man had so rudely tossed aside.

In big bold letters it read Le Carnaval des Freaks! Christine ran her eyes down the page and huddled the wool cloak closer as she began walking. There was also an address on the sheet of paper and a gritty illustration of what she assumed to be a monkey with cymbals in its hands.

Biting her lip nervously Christine looked up from the sheet and back to the man who was still handing out papers. Not one passer by escaped him.

She was desperately curious about this place. Perhaps she could find a job there, and make enough money to buy a pair of shoes, or better yet, food.

It was better than anything else she might have done. She did not know the nearest place to find shelter anyway, so with that in mind Christine began her trek to the Carnival of Freaks... they would not keep her out.

:O That's it for Chapter I! Tell me what you all think. And yes - more will be revealed about Christine, and no this is not modern day :) So - please review and give me feedback! And thank you to the readers of Paradigm who followed me here, I hope I did not disappoint!

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