Where It Stops, Nobody Knows

I can’t remember how I got here. I definitely remember the amusement park, arriving at the gate. That’s for sure. I got my ticket, and I had it torn, before going inside.

I came here with someone— Robin, I think. Though he also brought that one girl, Lillian, who always snaps at me for like, no reason? Weirdo.

God, I feel dizzy. What did we do next?

I walked the park, I must have, though I.. I can’t remember much of what happened outside the attractions, really. I can remember the entrance, that’s fine. I remember the funhouse was on the other side of the park, clear as day. And it looked fun. And in the center of it…

Well, I remember the Ferris Wheel, anyhow. It had a gorgeous view of the marshlands. I just wish I’d looked out the other side to the city. Was I able to? I can’t remember… did it have a window? It must’ve, because the carriages had windows next to the door. I must’ve forgotten to look. It’s probably a photo on my phone—

Shame, too. I wanted to see what my home looked like from up there. I remember getting off, and stumbling on one of those lame fences that they put up when the carnival comes into town. Or at least, I think it’s when they come into town. It definitely is in movies, but.. I can’t remember how often this is here. Well, at least the Carousel is fun. Dizzying, but fun.

That’s right. I’m on a Carousel. The horse I’m on is lovely, but.. was there no line? I don’t really remember getting on. And yet I must’ve, because this is easily my favorite seat out of the other lame options. A white stallion with a silver mane is a beauty, and the pink one with blue hair has weird eyes, and the green- Oh, that’s Robin. He seems really out of it, on his horse. If it weren’t for the pole, I feel like he might fall off. Around, and around, and around—

The horses. That’s all I can remember about this ride. Is that all there is? I mean, if I look left- No, I can absolutely see the central pillar. But it’s not like the ones I’m used to. I don’t see any mirrors, just a lot of lights. And if I look—

I remember the funhouse, definitely. That was easily the funnest place so far. The hall of mirrors was hilarious, and Lillian walked into plate glass twice, which just cannot be overstated for its irony. Loved that. And as we entered the next room, we made it up to the second floor, which had moving floorboards and such, and I remembered having to catch myself on the window, and then… and then…

And then I don’t remember much at all.

Not for a while, anyway. I can’t remember anything before exiting the funhouse, and yet I remember being weirdly anxious. Like, I was giggling? Sort of. But when I looked at Robin, he didn’t seem to get what I was laughing about. I remember him saying that those pictures of clowns weren’t that funny, but I mentioned the moving floorboards and he sighed.

“You’re still laughing about that?”

Ow, man. Ow.

Anyway, we went to find a new ride— A new… god, why can’t I remember? There was something big, something immense, that was super super weird to look at and I just… I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember it? That’s just— It makes no sense.

I certainly remember getting funnel cake. That stuff was doughy, and an old favorite of my Dad’s, so I always get some whenever we go to the faire, the carnival, or anywhere that sells it. I woulda taken him here today except…

God, why can’t I remember anything?

No, not anything….

Just a specific “anything”.

Today’s anything.

The Carnival’s Anything.

Why can’t I remember what the carnival looks like on the skyline? Or what neighbors it on the road?

I can remember sitting eating hot-dogs on the benches in the unpleasant heat, I remember the warmth of the sun reflecting against the glass eyes of the stuffed dolphin I won at the darts game. I’m pretty good at darts, you know. Where did I put that dolphin?

Looking around myself, I can’t find it anywhere. It isn’t here. Maybe I left it with someone in line? But.. Who would that even be? Robin’s ahead of me.. Lillian, maybe? But there’s no way she’d accept being left behind—

Wait.

I can’t seem to look outside.

Every time I look, I get side-tracked. I wind up thinking about something else. And I can’t remember what it looks like. But I’m cold.

I’m really cold.

And I can’t see the shadow of the horse. How long have I been on this ride? It can’t be night, can it? I step off the horse, and as I do so, I hear an awful, piercing growl. A sound that fits no creature I’ve ever heard of, piercing the night.

The cold, freezing night. Jesus, it’s cold.

Is it supposed to be this cold? And there’s a fog setting in, I don’t understand why, we don’t get fog here, and it never gets this cold, especially not in June.

I step towards the edge of the platform with my back to it. I feel my foot reach the edge. The noise becomes unbearable.

I take a glance, but I can’t remember what I saw. I come up with a plan. I’ll look, and if it’s safe to jump, I’ll jump.

I look.

The next moment blinks by, as my eyes fail to focus on anything and I constantly look away.

The memories shift and fail to stay with me. Until I stabilize.

Until my fall becomes consistent.

I am falling, back-first.

Down, down, down.

The carosel in front of me reaches for miles and miles into the sky, a mocking spiral like a barber-shop pole the size of infinity. Each layer full of thousands of unique, separate people, each on horses and turtles and wolves of different sizes. The lights continue up, and up.

A glance to my side, and I see something horrifying.

The edge of Earth’s atmosphere. The thin cloud layer that outlines it

Against the cold, unforgiving backing of space.

I fall.

And my eyes follow the carousel all the way to the top.

Four, six, eight? No, three… twelve?

Giant tentacles that reach for…

Miles? Inches? Infinity?

Downward. Down to the Earth. Giant branches that seem to change their position and size, length and detail, on a constant basis. And all connected to—

I can’t tell. Nothing stays. It’s massive, that’s there. It partially eclipses the sun. Is that why it’s so cold? No, space is always cold.

Space?

What’s up here, in space?

I can only see one thing, make out one detail that will stay.

Where the giant spiral of a carousel goes. What it reaches.

Where it ends.

 

The Mouth.

 

 

“A horror story about spinning.” – BravelyHero, 5/2/24, as part of a group Prompt Write.