In the middle of the forest, there lay a small tent with a black and white stripped pattern. It was a circus tent, of course! But it looked more like something in a Tim Burton film. Inside, there was a cheering crowd of over thirty people. They all whistled and clapped, but they weren't grinning from ear to ear like average circus going folk would. They were all pale, wearing dark eyeshadow and attire that belonged in a Gothic photoshoot with black and white stripes. The whole circus tent smelled of death and decay, with rotting large rats on the ground with starving maggots scattering around and looking for a three course meal. The audience were all facing the stage as a tall and eerie man stepped out from the black curtains wearing a fancy top hat and a striped suit. His voice had a southern twang in it but it came out to be uninterested and monotone.
"Welcome, welcome, everyone! I am glad you're all here today..."
A petite teenage girl came running out of the ebony curtains; her knees giving out and buckling from under her, making her collapse fully on the mahogany wood floor... The only colorful thing in this place. Two guards came from right behind the small girl and grabbed both of her wrists, slapping metal handcuffs around them. As the handcuffs fastened, the pulled her up by both arms and escorted her towards the eerie man.
The teenage girl was Amalia Nightingale, who was wearing a extravagant dark purple medium-length dress and a pair of short boots with the same color that had huge bows in front of them, along with purple and black striped long socks, She also had a small black head bow that was placed on her dyed black hair. She wasn't a pretty or popular face in Starlight Academy. The British teenager was pretty much an average nobody in her own right, sure she had powers just like the rest of the students there but she was just an average girl that didn't go to social events or attend the hottest party. Just a Tim-Burton fangirl that played the french horn in the School band and Music Club.
The eerie man's bored line turned into a smile, that revealed his yellow teeth. "I would like to welcome our volunteer Amalia Nightingale! She will be our escape artist for today! The others have sadly passed away, but I'm sure she will escape the glass boxâ€, right everyone?" There were silent nods in the audience, their grim faces turned towards Amalia as if waiting for any sort of entertainment. The eerie man in the top hat patted Amalia on the back and led her to the middle of the stage, where there was a large object covered in a black cover up that had red marks over it. The coverup was quickly removed by the guards, and there it stood:
The glass box.
The huge glass box was filled with water, and it was clear water too. Not anything dirty, thankfully. Amalia gulped, why did she always have these Goth Tim Burton-esque dreams that ended up in a demented circus? Amalia placed her foot on the stair, one foot, then the other... In these dreams, sometimes she was a lion tamer, or an acrobat, and maybe the ringleader at times but... An escape artist? This was something new, something rare and it was pretty frightening.
Amalia shook her head and finally made it to the top of the glass box, she turned towards the pale crowd to examine the looks on their faces. They were smiling, all of them. They were all on the edges of their seats, waiting for her to jump into the box of water. The guards had met her halfway, holding onto the chains that were attached to the handcuffs. Amalia looked down at her cupped hands and saw a black skeleton skullhead key just sitting there, before she can take a deep breath, the guards dropped the chains and Amalia fell in headfirst, losing the key at the bottom of the box.
Oh god, I'm going to die in my own dream... Amalia thought, looking around the glass box and kicking the glass with both legs. Seeing that that didn't work in the slightest, she shifted her knees in a sitting position and managed to kick the box from behind her, making her float down to the bottom where the skeleton key was. The teenager tried to grab the key with her teeth but it disappeared. She screamed in frustration, bubbles erupting from her mouth. The crowd was cheering and grinning at the girl's struggle to not realise that the skeleton key was a magic facade. Amalia needed help! She kicked and screamed at the glass box but nothing was working, Help someone, please! She pleaded in her thoughts, pissed at herself for not having Telepathy for a power. Hopefully, someone would find this grim dark Tim Burton circus tent...