I look around at all the folks of the circus. One has stripes, one has a blue dress, while they’re others wearing they’re own choice of outfit . We are sitting at a table, they’re are seven of us exactly. One of us will fall down, off of the table, to the floor. No one knows who. All we know is that one of the drinks that taste like cherry is poisoned, and is deadly. Could this be the day I, the girl in the pink dress with black hair, be gone. Well we’ll have to see at the end of the tale.