Ever since she was little, Izzy has been in Parklington's travelling circus. She's the flyer, flipping through hoops, dangling from trapeze and walking the tightrope. But when an accident occurs, will she still be able to pursue her dream?


2. My Trailer

I scuttled back to my trailer, the rain hammered down on me and my face paint melted off of my face, so that I looked like some sort of crying clown.

My trailer was erupting with noise, the rain smacked down on the tin roof and I made myself a hot chocolate.

A tap on the door.

Mr Marcus stood outside in the pouring rain, holding, well what looked like, a rent sheet.

"Here's the money!"

I handed him a three fifty pound notes that would keep me in my trailer for another two weeks.

Mr Marcus gave me my pay, for the last three shows. £200.

He grunted and went to the next trailer, slowly in his green loafers.

I shuddered, he made me sick. At ten in the night, I pottered down to the shop and bought some bread and squash.

Mr Marcus was in the line.

I couldn't quite see what he was holding.

But it was silver.


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