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Description
Edwin had no-where else to go. She'd left him. They'd all left him, really. One by one, everyone he'd ever known had walked out on him.

His father had run out when he was a baby, apparently unable to cope. His mother tried, but even she gave up. His earliest memory was of her tenderly brushing the hair of his face. Her hands were always wet - he'd never known why.

Not until his sister had explained, anyway. Clarice had been the best. Of anyone he'd known. She had accepted him, made the pain worthwhile. "Her little monkey", she would call him. Edwin didn't even understand that he was different until his ninth birthday. Until his sister sat down to explain why the other boys and girls wouldn't play with him, he'd assumed that they were the oddities. He'd never known any other men, after all, so how could he know that they weren't as hairy as him?

Clarice set it all straight. In between swigs from a bottle of vodka, she told Edwin that he was a freak, that his own father had been terrified of him, that everyone would hate him for ever and ever and ever. She was thirteen then. Edwin thought she must have been an angel, sent to look after him.

But then she'd left him, too. For his fourteenth birthday, she gave him a sealed brown paper bag, a single kiss on his matted fur, and walked away. Inside was the bag was a bottle of Jack Daniel's Sour Mash Whiskey and a note. It simply said "Goodbye (Jack's all you've got now)".

When he was seventeen, Edwin had met Rhonda. She was a dwarf, plying her trade with a travelling circus. She'd looked after him. Combed his hair, prepared his meals at night. Not loved him, exactly, but taken him under her wing. No matter what the ringmaster said, whatever she was bribed with, she did her best for Edwin. Wiping a tear from his eye, he realised that was the truth. She'd always tried.

Until last week. She'd left with the circus without a word. Not even a bottle of comfort. Edwin was alone again.

Yesterday, an opportunity had rolled up. They came into town with their bells and chants, their cries and songs, their cages and rides. The Carnival of Horrors had arrived - and Edwin knew what he had to do.

Now it would be different. He sat in the cage as the door slammed behind him and leant his hairy head against the rusting bars. From now on, they would come to him.

They would all come to him.

Description
Edwin had no-where else to go. She'd left him. They'd all left him, really. One by one, everyone he'd ever known had walked out on him.

His father had run out when he was a baby, apparently unable to cope. His mother tried, but even she gave up. His earliest memory was of her tenderly brushing the hair of his face. Her hands were always wet - he'd never known why.

Not until his sister had explained, anyway. Clarice had been the best. Of anyone he'd known. She had accepted him, made the pain worthwhile. "Her little monkey", she would call him. Edwin didn't even understand that he was different until his ninth birthday. Until his sister sat down to explain why the other boys and girls wouldn't play with him, he'd assumed that they were the oddities. He'd never known any other men, after all, so how could he know that they weren't as hairy as him?

Clarice set it all straight. In between swigs from a bottle of vodka, she told Edwin that he was a freak, that his own father had been terrified of him, that everyone would hate him for ever and ever and ever. She was thirteen then. Edwin thought she must have been an angel, sent to look after him.

But then she'd left him, too. For his fourteenth birthday, she gave him a sealed brown paper bag, a single kiss on his matted fur, and walked away. Inside was the bag was a bottle of Jack Daniel's Sour Mash Whiskey and a note. It simply said "Goodbye (Jack's all you've got now)".

When he was seventeen, Edwin had met Rhonda. She was a dwarf, plying her trade with a travelling circus. She'd looked after him. Combed his hair, prepared his meals at night. Not loved him, exactly, but taken him under her wing. No matter what the ringmaster said, whatever she was bribed with, she did her best for Edwin. Wiping a tear from his eye, he realised that was the truth. She'd always tried.

Until last week. She'd left with the circus without a word. Not even a bottle of comfort. Edwin was alone again.

Yesterday, an opportunity had rolled up. They came into town with their bells and chants, their cries and songs, their cages and rides. The Carnival of Horrors had arrived - and Edwin knew what he had to do.

Now it would be different. He sat in the cage as the door slammed behind him and leant his hairy head against the rusting bars. From now on, they would come to him.

They would all come to him.