Freaks Read Online Free PDF

own. Others were going through this ordeal with her. She was part of something bigger than herself. It was a small gesture, but it made her indescribably happy. She forgot about looking beastly and beamed instead.
    The next group of spectators was very disappointed.
    â€œWhat’s this supposed to be, then?”
    â€œIt’s just a little girl sitting on a chair . . . my missus looks more ’orrible than that first thing in the morning!”
    â€œShe’s not much better the rest of the day, either.”
    Sheba strained her hardest, willing her snout to twitch, her fangs to jut, but she could feel her features remaining stubbornly normal. Trying another approach, she instead imagined Grunchgirdle with his bony, shaking fingers and watery, spiteful eyes. She pictured the way he used to poke her through the cage bars with a broom handle, how he cursed at her and called her “freak” and “monster”: all the little humiliations and unkindnesses she had endured over the years.
    It was as if the wolf inside her suddenly woke. With a snarl, her eyes flashed amber and her teeth snapped. From girl to animal in the blink of an eye.
    Her audience yelped and rushed back through the sheets and down the stairs. Sheba sat, quietly growling, until she noticed that not quite all of them had gone. Still standing in front of her was a little girl, wide-eyed and clutching at her pinafore in fright, but standing her ground.
    â€œSorry,” said Sheba. She suddenly felt very self-conscious and ashamed. With a blink, her amber eyes returned to normal, and she hid her sharp teeth behind a pout.
    â€œThat was very good,” said the girl. She gave Sheba a shy smile. “Bit scary, though.”
    â€œSorry,” Sheba said again. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
    â€œâ€™S all right,” said the girl.
    Sheba looked at her visitor properly. The poor thing was stick thin and pale as a dead fish. She could clearly see the bones of her skull pushing through her skin, and there were dark shadows around her huge eyes. Beneath her patched pinafore, she wore rags that reeked of stale mud. Her feet were bare and covered with angry-looking welts and scratches.
This must be one of those unfortunate people Sister Moon was talking about
, Sheba thought.
Could she be one of the scavengers from the dust heaps? Or somewhere even worse?
    â€œDo you live in London?” It was a silly question, but Sheba didn’t know what to say. She’d never spoken to her audience before.
    â€œYes, down by the river.” The girl smiled again. “Me ma will never believe me when I tells her about you and the others!”
    â€œIs this the first time you’ve been to the show?”
    â€œFirst time I’ve been anywhere in town,” the girl said. “I’m supposed to be out on the river now, picking from the mud, but I didn’t feel like it. Went for a walk instead.”
    Sheba was about to ask what kind of strange fruit would need picking from a stinking riverbank, when the girl took something from her pocket and held it out to her. Sheba looked. It was a chipped glass marble, the size of a small egg and bottle green. Hesitantly, Sheba took it.
    â€œMy name’s Till,” said the girl. She watched as Sheba rolled the marble between her fingers. “You can keep that if you like. Picked it up this morning.”
    â€œThank you,” said Sheba, genuinely touched. It was the first time anyone had actually given her anything. She was filled with gratitude, but guilt, too, as she had nothing to give in return. Instead she offered her name. “I’m Sheba.”
    Till opened her mouth to say more, when the thunderous boom of Plumpscuttle’s voice echoed up from below.
    â€œWhat do you mean, she sneaked past without paying? Get off your lazy backside and find her, you dolt! And then bring her to me so I can clout her back where she came