(Accidentally) Lost Scene

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Hi, friends! Thank you to everyone who entered the 50K Giveaway! The winner has been chosen and contacted about their free critique. I hope to do a similar giveaway at 100K reads! 

In the meantime, as I was unpacking boxes last week, I found a scene from the story that never made it in because it got lost amongst all my papers (the perils of handwriting stories)! It takes place just after Owen arrives in the carnival. It's short, but I thought it'd be fun to share with you all :) 

Thank you again to everyone who chooses to spend time with my characters; it means a lot to us! Without further ado...

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The following night, Owen was pacing his room, too agitated to fall back asleep. He had awoken in a panic, with cold sweat plastering his shirt to his chest. The realization of where he was and what had happened had come crashing back over him as the unfamiliar room around him came into focus.

He walked over to the window, trying to resist the urge to put his fist through the glass. Instead, he placed his hands on either side of the frame, blunted nails digging into the wood. The carnival spread out before him and, as his gaze roamed the edges, he realized the faire made a perfect circle, with the carousel the center hub. Tents and rides were layered around it, radiating outward like ripples, with small footpaths in between. The midway was a wide dirt track that ran through the middle on either side of the carousel.

From this high up, he could see the subtle curve of the tents that made up the outer ring. A curve that would encourage people to circle back into the carnival rather than exit.

Weird, he thought, but far from his most pressing concern. How the hell did I end up here? was the question screaming at the forefront of his mind. His gaze zeroed in on Lira, identified by the violin in her grasp, walking along the main path that led to the carousel. His blood began to boil. She was the reason he was here, and now it looked like she was going to do it again.

How can she live with herself? he thought in disgust. He watched as she stepped up onto the wooden platform and pulled herself onto a horse. She arranged herself sidesaddle and tucked the violin under her chin. The bow moved slowly, though he couldn't hear the music from this distance, and the ride began to turn backwards. As the horse she was on disappeared around the far side and reappeared around the turn, Owen froze in shock. She was gone.

His nose pressed against the glass as he searched each horse, but the ride was empty. Heart racing, thoughts spinning wildly, Owen turned from the window and rushed out the door and down the hall. He tried to make as little noise as possible as he bounded down the worn staircase. No one had told him he wasn't allowed to explore the carnival on his own, but he didn't want to run the risk of alerting someone to his presence.

Emerging from the side of the funhouse, Owen made sure the coast was clear before starting down the path between two large white tents. He hoped no one was watching from the funhouse windows, or if they were, he hoped they would think he was heading to the carver's house. The relative emptiness of the carnival made it easier for him to traverse the grounds quickly, but it also made it easier for him to be seen. He kept to the shadows of tents as much as possible and stopped by an empty food stall several yards away from the carousel.

He crouched behind the counter, watching the ride intently. The horses were motionless wooden caricatures once more, though the red eyes of the murderous black stallion seemed to be staring right at him. Owen suppressed a shiver.

If he boarded the ride, would it begin to turn? Somehow, he didn't think so. If it was that easy to escape, he would be locked in his room or under constant supervision. No, he would have to wait to see how Lira returned.

About a quarter of an hour later, as his legs were beginning to fill with pins and needles, the ride began to turn again. It sped up and, though Owen swore he didn't blink, he missed the point where the horses changed into animate beings. Children appeared on their backs as they rounded the bend.

There were three of them, identical expressions of dazed delight on their faces, as though they had just found themselves in an unusually vivid dream.

Two girls, one with curly red hair and the other with blonde pigtails, and one boy with ocher skin and black wind-blown hair, gazed around in rapture. All three couldn't have been older than ten. The red-head clapped her hands, the sound strangely muted. Lira walked around the far side of the carousel and helped each child down from their respective horse.

"Where is everyone?" asked the little blonde. She turned pirouettes on the spot, her pigtails swinging.

"This is a special night," said Lira with a painful smile on her face. Even from this distance, Owen could see how tightly her jaw was clenched. "You get the whole carnival to yourselves."

"So, we can go on the rides as many times as we want?" asked the boy excitedly.

Lira nodded. "That's right." The three children whooped and hopped up and down.

"But what about our mommies and daddies?" asked the red-head.

"They'll be along to pick you up later," Lira reassured her. Whatever small worries the kids might have had melted away at her gentle tone. "First though, I bet you guys are hungry."

Three heads nodded in overly enthusiastic unison.

"Let's get you some snacks then," continued Lira.

"Popcorn?" asked the blonde girl.

"Hotdogs!" crowed the boy. They bounced around Lira like puppies.

She forced a laugh and waved her hands in a "settle down" manner. "Whatever you guys want," she promised. "My friend, Mitsi, is going to take you all to the kitchen."

On cue, the young cook appeared. He murmured something Owen couldn't hear and led the kids away. The red-head turned to wave goodbye to Lira. Once the children were out of sight, Lira took a couple of steps backwards and sank down onto the wooden carousel platform. Burying her face in her hands, she began to cry.

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