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The Closet of Clowns

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This was a painting that I made of the clown. It does not go with the story, but I express my story through the picture.

Often, we moved to different places. It was just my parents, my big brother, and me. For me, the hardest part about all this moving, I always had to make new friends every time. I mean, yeah, I’m fifteen and I try to be in sports, but it’s still hard.

I don’t quite remember everywhere we’ve lived. There was one town we lived in that I can remember as if it were yesterday. Let’s just say, I’ll never look at clowns the same again.

Now, before I start, I probably should tell you. I’m actually an orphan. After my parents’ death, my aunt and uncle adopted me, making my cousin more of like my brother. Those are the people I’m in the car with now.

The first night at that house, after I did my business, I went to my room and got in bed after turning on the radio to my favorite station. I shut off the light and closed my eyes… But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me. So I sat up and looked around There was nothing I could see. I just laid back down and closed my eyes.

Suddenly, I heard something in the darkness of my room. What is that? Scratching? I got out of bed, in curiosity to find the source. It sounded as if it were coming from the closet. I looked at it and the door itself was still, that I could see. Though there was an eerie, red light illuminating from under the door.

I noticed that the scratching grew louder and the knob to the closet door began to jiggle as if someone were trying to open it, but couldn’t. Out of my stupid actions and curiosity, I went to the closet and grabbed the knob. Everything suddenly stopped. I went ahead and grabbed the flashlight I kept near the head of my bed. I flipped it on and turned the knob. Then the door burst open and blew me back at the wall.

I popped up from my bed, gasping for air and breathing heavily. I put my hand on my head, "Phew, it was just a dream," I thought. Then I heard the sound of crackling bones. I froze and looked over toward the closet, I saw a silhouette, just standing there and staring at me. It’s eyes were like matches, and they seemed as if they were trying to look into my soul. I was so scared I literally couldn’t move. Soon, I built up the courage to grab the flashlight and turn it on. The figure was gone.

I realized that there is a tapping outside my window. I decided to go check it out. I peeked through the blinds and saw the branch next to my window. "That’s what was making that tapping noise," I thought.

I exhaled and turned. Then I looked up and screamed at the top of my lungs. There was a silhouette in the doorway.

“Honey, are you okay?” a familiar voice said. The figure turned on the light, it was my mom.

“I’m fine, Mom. It was just a nightmare.”

She walked to me and put her hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up. Lie down and get some rest. You have school tomorrow,” she said and led me to my bed.

The next few nights were exactly the same. Creeks, scratches, the trembling of the closet doorknob, and seeing silhouettes. It got to the point that I told my parents about it. They told me to not worry, that it’s probably just my mind playing games with me. I thought then that yeah, it probably was. We were completely wrong.

A couple nights later, the noises began again. I decided to just try to get back to sleep. But there was something different tonight… whispering. That never happened before. I sat up and the whispering stopped. But instead of just lying back down, I decided to get up and check it out. I stood there motionless as I felt warm breath on the back of my neck.

I was paralyzed in fear. When I got the courage to turn, I saw a dark figure and I flew back. The moonlight shining through the window had shown me a face that resembled that of a clown. Except the face had blood smeared all over it. It jumped at me and I guarded my eyes. I didn’t want to see that horrible, gruesome face before I died. But nothing happened. I saw it jump at me. I uncovered my face and looked around.

Once I was able to get up and run, I ran out my door and into the hallway. I looked around, nothing was there. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness. What I saw next, was the most terrible thing I have ever witnessed. Not only did I see the clown again, but the clown was pointing up at the ceiling above me. It had a smile that I could never forget, even if I tried.

Then, I felt a few drops of liquid fall upon my head and arm. I looked up and screamed. I almost wanted to cry. Because what I saw up on the ceiling, were my parents… There were knives stabbed into my dad. There was one through his heart, his head, the shoulder opposite the heart, and the thighs. My mom had a knife through her heart, her mouth was sewn shut, and she was being hung, not to mention the fact that the bottom half of her was missing. I covered my mouth, horrified by the sight. I looked down; the clown was in front of me and stabbed me in the stomach. I fell back and was knocked unconscious.

I woke up to the sound of police sirens and crying. Then my aunt ran over and hugged me tight. I fringed in pain as she accidentally touched the wound. I asked what happened, thinking and hoping that everything I remembered was just a dream and the wound was from something else. My aunt then explained through her tears that she and my uncle would probably have to adopt me, seeing how they are my god-parents.

That night will haunt me until I die. I don’t think any human could’ve done what happened to my parents. That gruesome night and sight is what holds me back from ever going to a circus or a carnival. My aunt and uncle think that I should go to a psychiatrist. I don’t think I’m crazy. I think what I saw actually happened… because I can still feel the breath on the back of neck and the eyes staring at me.

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