Story challenge 12

David Gatward

No one likes a clown. And I'm not just talking about the idiot in class who farts and thinks it's funny. I'm talking about real clowns. Freaks with false faces, stupid shoes, and a crappy circus act. They do my nut. There's something wrong and creepy and disturbed about clowns and that should've told me something. It should've told me to not go up to the circus that night, for a start. And it should've told me to not buy a ticket, or walk in there laughing and joking around with my mates as though everything was cool. It should've told me that, when the lights went down, and the fat clown with the huge nets came in (he was licking his lips, too), it was probably as good a sign as any I can think of that I should've left. But I didn't. None of us did. We just sat, waiting, stuffing our faces with popcorn, while the clowns went to work...

Comment by WP Central on March 6, 2015 at 14:13

A slow, thick smoke rolled into the circus as the clowns slithered around with their freaky faces,  yet spotlight dancing from place to place; we remained oblivious to the foreboding atmosphere that now flooded the tent. The air becoming stagnant and the laughter quietening down.  Abruptly and profoundly breaking the silence was music, flares of light and the overwhelming sound of the audience. Discomfort gripping me by the heart now with sweat brewing on my brow and fingers ripping into the arm rest of the seat. With the other clowns now out of sight, the largest of the clowns went off stage and returned with a cage in tow. Contained within, was a lion.

Lashing out at the cage in anger and nearly breaking through the rusted lock was a once proud lion. Scars across his face and little mane to speak of. My friends now on the edge of their seats and cheering for something it to be released. But in the clowns hands were chucks of meat, dripping with blood. I nearly hurdled as soon as I saw them. Something was off but I felt like the only person to know it. The smell lingering and spreading across the tent reaching its highest peak. It was intoxicating and I could no longer stay still. I had to move. As I got up and turned to my friends I froze. Almost like the animal themselves they seemed captured by the clown. I knew that I should snap them out of it but there was no time. I moved to the exit, now running. But where! Where was it!? Cursing myself for going to this circus, I spun around looking for a way out. It was sudden and terrifyingly quick. All I could see was black and I felt nothing. The sound of the crowds fading away…

That was four hours ago. No help and no response. I am cold and alone. Trapped in a meat locker is my guess. I’ve now tried everything; knocking on the door, knocking on the walls, screaming and shouting and looking for other ways out. I am completely trapped. I’ve decided to write this ‘diary’ to anyone who is out there. I don’t know how this will help but it stops me from shaking.  I’m scarred.  Oh god please help me. Why me? I can’t handle it. The smell. It’s here. Intoxicating and suffocating. The meat as well. It looks…human...

Desborough College, Jack

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