“Oh lord, I’ve had enough of these people out here,” I said. The circus was much too chaotic for me. All the bustling people, yelling carnies, screaming children, noisy animals, the influx of strange smells, and the sweltering July heat were making me queasy.

“Cheer up, Donna!” My best friend Sophie says. “You used to love going to the circus when we were younger. Remember?” She’s right. One of my favorite childhood memories is going to the circus with my mother and father, and Sophie too. We would see the sea lion doing tricks with a beach ball, and acrobats high above us. I recall feeling my heart sink every time they’d let go of their hoops and do tricks in the air. There was something so exhilarating about the funambulists walking across the tightrope. It was almost as if they weren’t walking on anything at all. We went to the circus every year we could when I was a kid. This year, Sophie bought her and I tickets to the circus for my thirtieth birthday.

“I don’t remember the circus being this busy before,” I stated, anxiously. I twiddled with my fingers, attempting to focus on something controllable.

“Well, all of this outside carnival-y stuff is new I think! That must be why neither of us are familiar with it. It might’ve been around for the past ten years, but it’s new to us!” Sophie always seemed to know how or why things were the way they were. You could ask her anything, and she’d at least have a good educated guess to answer you with. Sophie placed her hand on my shoulder.

“If you’re not sure you want to go in the tent just yet, we can go check something else out,” Sophie stated in a comforting tone. She gave me a slight smile, which temporarily muted the distressing cacophony. I looked down at the short grass, its mixed brown, green, and yellow coloring reminded me of the front yard of my childhood home; bringing back even more nostalgic feelings. I spot a weathered bench about twenty to thirty feet away.

“Do you think we could sit on that bench over there?” I gesture to the bench. “Just for a little bit, I think I’m just a bit surprised by the busyness of this place.”

“Of course!” Sophie and I made our way over to the old, yet well-loved bench. A young boy threw a baseball at the bottles from the ‘knock ‘em down’ game, which made a sharp cracking sound that caused me to flinch. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, cold but also hot. It seemed like goosebumps were crawling all over my body like spiders. Sophie and I sit down together, I reflect on previous visits to the circus to try and ease my nerves.

I didn’t used to be this anxious about everything, but after the car accident back in April; even the slightest things would startle me. I attempt to recall the carefree feeling of being twelve years old, trying to take my mind off the present. I had medium-length blonde hair; nowadays it’s the same length, but I dyed it brown. I’ve always been decently skinny, my mother always called me ‘petite.’ Back when I was twelve, I was about five feet tall. I grew another nine inches after that, but then stopped. I do miss being able to eat all of the junk food at the circus without putting on weight. The mouthwatering candy apples, sticky cotton candy, salty yet sweet caramel corn, funnel cakes, pretzels, and the corn dogs. I will probably still get myself a treat; it is my birthday after all. This gives me something to look forward to, a light at the end of the tunnel.

Suddenly, another memory floods my mind. During the visit to the circus in my eighth-grade year, Sophie and I had a corn dog-eating competition. My parents warned us it might not end well, and that we could possibly get sick. We didn’t really care, or heed their warning. Sophie and I must’ve eaten fifty corn dogs between the two of us. About an hour later, both of us were outside the circus tent, and puking up a deep-fried cornmeal disaster. My body lets out an involuntary shiver at the thought.

“You alright?” Sophie inquires.

“Yeah, I was just remembering the time we threw up all of those corn dogs.” I let out a slight chuckle.

“Oh my gosh, I had totally forgotten about that!” Sophie laughs a bit harder than I did. “Eww, why did you have to remind me of it though!” She gives my shoulder a slight and playful shove.

“You asked!” I exclaim as I throw my hands up in the air. We look at each other, make eye contact, and proceed to keel over laughing. I notice out of the corner of my eye that a mother and son are giving us a nasty look. The mother has a look on her face as if she just smelled a rotten egg. I ignore her.

“Feeling better now?” Sophie asks.

“Definitely,” I state. I return the same soft smile Sophie gave me earlier. All of the worries around me seem to fade away like a morning fog.

“Let’s go then!” Sophie shoots up. She gestures for me to stand up too, so I get up and straighten myself in the same way in an exaggerated manner.

“I’ll also get you whatever snack you want! It is your birthday, Donna! Just, maybe not a corndog…” We walk together confidently into the circus tent. The show is just like how I remember it, and I watch it while eating a deliciously crunchy and cinnamon-flavored candy apple.