The little girl was bouncing higher and higher and higher. Her once carefully plaited braids flipped around with the beat. Her face was enveloped by a gapped toothed smile.

Her light blue eyes squinted with glee at every bounce. Her fingertips barely missed the top of the castle by a whisp.

On every bounce her blue pettycoat flew up towards her face. She giggled as she tried to pat it down. It did not matter. She had thick pink leggings on. Kansas in March was still cold and her momma insisted she wear them. They were itchy and pulled and pinched but she didn’t care.

She was so lucky. She was the only one in the bouncer castle. She could jump and squeal and laugh to her heart’s delight. On her next bounce down she burped up a sweet mix of cocoa and maple syrup.

“My special breakfast tasted yummy going down AND coming up.”

She giggled to herself. So silly.

She was the princess, no, the queen of the castle. No peasants or low lives allowed in. And especially, no boys. This was life. Just a queen bouncing higher and higher and higher.

The sounds of the carnival around her snapped her back to reality. She settled herself down slowly as the bounces faded away. Her blue dress lay flat against her itchy legs. She scratched at them subconsciously, pulling the loose threads free.

She crouched down and hugged her ratty knees to her chest. Smoothing down the new dress her momma had bought for this very occasion. She sighed heavily as she caught her breath.

Suddenly she gasped. She realized she never wanted to leave. The light was fading fast, and the fairs commotion was slowly droning away. She needed to think and act fast. Scrambling around she took in her palace. Somewhere to hide…

That’s it! Her castle had a little hidden tunnel. Her Majesty‘s own secret entrance to the top level.

The little girl quickly scrambled over and tucked herself in. If she pulled herself up just right, no one would notice the little brown boat with pink laces blending into the pink bouncy castle fabric. And if she stood up and held on real still….

Moments or minutes past. The little girl was once again lost in her daydream. She vaguely recognized mumbling voices about her. But as long as she stood very still…

Suddenly, she heard a pop and a fizz and her hiding hole started to feel a bit constricted. The weight of her two story fantasy started to press down on her. The little girl tried to scoot downwards but realized she was stuck. She started screaming, but her little five year old voice could only echo back the screams of the last riders of the twirly wheel beside her.

It was the last day of the fair. The energy and adrenaline was palpable. There were waves of sound that drowned out any hope of hearing…

“help me. help me.”

Stuck in her tomb the little girl’s tummy started to grumble. The pancakes and hot chocolate from this morning didn’t feel good as adrenaline started to rise. And the pressure on her little body started to increase. The little girl sobbed out one more time…

“momma….”

She squeezes her eyes shut and her last breath is pushed out of her tiny body no longer able to withstand the pressure of all that weight.

The bouncy castle gets put away in a shipping container. The shipping container get put on a train. The train travels through the windy, dry landscape of Kansas and breaks down many miles from its next destination. It takes a couple of weeks for the repairs to be done before the train can be on its way. To the carnival it wasn’t a big deal. The bouncy castle is not seen as an essential ride. Only little kids use it. Not their top demographic.

When the carnival hands inflate the castle for the first time in a month they find a tiny figure tucked in the tunnel. They stare at the pink laced brown shoes encasing legs that look three sizes too small, almost like if reduced to bones. They wonder if it’s a prop from the fun house….

As a blue petticoat flaps in the wind they tug at the body and as it slides out they find themselves staring at a sulkened face of a child. The little shell of a girl opens her eyes and stares back at them, her irises constricting in the bright light.

She sits up suddenly. Gasping at air. Sweat rolls down her cheek as she blinks away the terror and sleep still lingering. It was a nightmare. An awful one. It’s still dark out, but she hears commotion downstairs. She stumbles around to find her Snuggie and pulls it close to her thumping heart. She needs her Momma.

She carefully walks down the staircase right by her room and peeks around the landing. “Momma?”

Her mom turns from the stove and flashes her a huge smile.

“There you are sweetie. Come downstairs. I made your favorite—pancakes and hot cocoa. Put on your new blue dress. Don’t forget leggings. It’s chilly outside.

But I have a surprise for you!!!”

Still crouched on the staircase clutching her Snuggie, the little girl stammers out,

“what is it momma?”

Her Mom beams with joy and love and happiness.

“We’re going to the fair. They have your favorite. The bouncy castle!”