Coulrophobia

Today is my little sister’s birthday. And of all places for her to choose to go she chose the circus. I think that the only reason she wanted to go is because she knows that I am terrified of the clowns; she picks on me about it all the time but one day she will see why I am so scared.

We arrive at the circus. All I can see is a giant clown’s face on a tent. The clown’s face had a giant smile which made it even worse. I sink into my seat trying not to look at it. I get out of the car as slow as possible hoping that something will happen and we will have to go home.

We finally get to our seats and of course it was in the very first row. The show begins and no clowns appear only acrobats and elephants. And I was enjoying myself, until the clowns come out. And they are everywhere. Looking for an excuse to not be around them I ask my mom if I can go to the bathroom. With a disappointed look upon her face she said yes.

I walk into the colorfully painted bathroom that has polka dots on the walls. I walk in a see a girl about the age of 15 looking at herself in the mirror. And for a split second our eyes connected; I saw a glimpse of a mysterious, passion, and rage as she said in a soft, sweet voice “Are u hiding from the clowns too?” I answered quickly and with conviction “Yes, I hate them!”

So we hide in the bathroom for a while together talking about how we come to be Coulrophobic. Finally we decide that the part of the show with the clowns should be over and decide to go back to our families.

Just as we walked out of the bathroom a clown shoved us back in. It made us go into a door made into the wall. Startled, horrified, and unsure of everything, we just do as we are told. In a stern and slow voice it said “Get in the box.”

We had been in there for some time and there was no light at all just dark deep blackness so dark that I couldn’t see Abby that was right next to me. Our pupils had become dilated from the lack of light. And occasionally we would whisper to each other to make sure the other one was still there and alive. I whispered “We need a plan.” I have been thinking all this time and still didn’t have one. Little did know we didn’t have any more time.

The box opened with a loud pop. The light practically blinded us. There were more clowns now even more than was in the show. I tried not to scream out in fear. They stared at us like wild dogs looking at a piece of raw meat. Abby and I held on to each other tightly out of fear of these freakish people. A tall, skinny, clown walked in and all the others parted to either side. He was the clown with the giant smile that was on the tent. I knew by the way he looked at us that he wanted is for something special and new he looked fascinated.

Just then he pulled us out of the giant box. Suddenly, I realized that we had moved to a new place. It was so cold you could see your breath. All I could see were silver, shimmering tables, and cutting utensils that were crusted with a dark reddish brown substance.  

Abby was quite and distance. I thought she was just scared…but she was MAD. Suddenly we were forced toward the table, I landed hard against it. I didn’t see or hear Abby anymore and I though the worst. The lead clown came toward at me and wrapped a rope around my neck and pulled it tight. He forced my head up stretching my neck to the point that it hurt and it couldn’t stretch anymore. He raised the knife to my throat. Just before I closed my eyes to pray I saw Abby pop up behind the clown. She put a rope around his neck pulled hard and slid a small knife across it quickly. He was dead. The rest of the clowns freaked out and went after her. They all missed and she killed them all. She had become the killer.

After she had killed them all, and they were laying there in pools of blood and with broken bones she looked at me. In a very honest and unsure voice she asked “What just happened?” I honestly answered “You went all psycho clown killer.” “OMG I did all of this…not again!” “Yes, and I’m scared of you. What do you mean AGAIN?” “Don’t be scared the only time I have hurt people is when they were clowns and that had tried to hurt me or someone else.” I looked into her bright blue eyes and again I saw that passion and rage. This time I understood and it was no longer a mystery to me and I felt myself feeling the same way.

I headed home after that but it was not the last time I saw Abby, I am now her partner and we take care of the clowns that I once feared, and my little sister will never have to fear clowns as I had. They say passion and rage are too of the most powerful emotions but mix in fear and it becomes so much bigger than emotion. It becomes actions that are so powerful that they could be the superpowers of the real world.