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John sat on the park bench waiting for his sister, Bailey. He scrolled through his Twitter feed to pass the time. He'd have left already if she hadn't been so insistent that he wait for her.

He knew why. She was worried about him.

The break-up had been hard. He and Leigha had dated for fourteen months, a lifetime when you're sixteen years old.

Sure, it'd been his fault. He'd left Leigha little choice after texting that other girl. John tried to lie about it at first, but she always knew when he was lying. What had he been thinking? That girl was a tramp. Leigha was a princess. A little crazy, but he loved her.

John looked to the entrance of the park. Still no Bailey. Was she pranking him? He didn't think so. Of course, she owed him. Just two weeks ago, he'd gotten her by putting a fake spider in the bathtub before her shower. The whole street could hear her screams when she ran out of the bathroom butt naked. It took half a day before she was calm enough for John to unlock his bedroom door.

She vowed revenge, but that had been before the Leigha fiasco. Today, Bailey was in full cheer up mode. She'd enticed him with laser tag and ice cream. She had him at laser tag. Though he wouldn't pass up a cherry-dipped cone. The thought of the vanilla ice cream dripping on his knuckles made him lick his lips.

The hard park bench was killing him. John stood up and stretched. He dug his fists in his back, producing several loud pops. His phone buzzed in his hand. A message from Bailey, 'practice ran long. be there in 10.'

John snorted. Great. It was getting dark, and when Bailey said ten minutes that meant twenty. He sat back down and watched a pair of boys toss a Frisbee.

At the edge of the woods, a splash of color caught his eye. A clown stepped from the woods. A scary clown with a gaping smile, white face, and red nose. His heart raced in his chest. He broke out into a cold sweat. A burst of adrenalin made him want to run. He was deathly scared of clowns.

Stop. It had to be a girl in the costume with the bosom and full hips. She skipped into the field towards John, a hand behind her back. The clown moved like Bailey. Curse his sister. She knew he hated clowns. It was just like her to send a text to throw him off. As she got closer, she removed the hand. A stunt knife reflected the dying sunlight. Bailey picked up speed.

John decided to play along. He jumped to his feet and ran, doing his best to act scared. She gained on him. He let her, waiting for the poke of the fake knife so he could cry in fear. Two sets of footfalls joined their own, followed by a girl's scream. He stopped. The Frisbee players had tackled his sister and were hitting her. Crap. He had to save her.

With the advantage of surprise, he punched each one, knocking them to the ground. He picked up his sister, still clutching the prop. He could smell her fear and lavender shampoo.

"Bailey, what were you thinking? You could've been killed."

The clown giggled. The mask bobbing up and down. The rainbow colored hair dancing in the wind.

"It was a good prank, but look what you did. Go tell them you're sorry and beg them to not call the police."

"You forced me to this." Bailey's voice sounded weird, muffled by the small mouth opening.

"Fine. I'll never play another trick on you again."

"I know you won't." Bailey dropped the shiny fake knife down to her thigh. With her free hand, she gripped the mask and pulled it forward.

Blond hair slipped out.

Wait. Bailey had brown hair.

The mask slipped off further, revealing pale blue eyes.

No. Bailey had green eyes. Not blue.

She slipped the mask off completely. John saw a button nose and pouty lips. His heart soared. It couldn't be true. She had come back to him.

"Leigha!"

"John."

"Oh, baby. I missed you." His phone buzzed in his pocket. The sound echoing in his ears.

"I missed you too. Do you want to get back together?" She tilted her head to the side, expectantly.

"Yes. Yes." Buzzing, louder. It became louder.

"I need to know I can trust you."

"You can." John promised.

She stepped closer, touching his elbow flirtatiously. A sparkle in her eye. "Are you still talking to her?"

"NO. No. no." Buzzing, louder and Louder and LOUDER.

"Liar."

The knife slipped between two ribs. A river of pain coursed through John's chest. The knife was real. And, sharp.

His knees buckled. He clung to her for support. The cheap costume ripped at the shoulder, exposing porcelain skin.

"Leigha?"

She pushed the knife in deeper. Twisting. The pain was indescribable. The blade pierced his heart, tearing it in two.

His grip weakened. He slipped to the ground, a lifeless puddle of bones and regret. This is how she must have felt when she heard of his betrayal. He fought to keep consciousness.

"Leigha, I'm sorry."

She slipped the mask back on. The red-lipped smile stretched from ear to ear. She pulled on the knife. It caught on bone. She jerked it free. Blood pumped out, staining her stripped jumpsuit with the pom-pom buttons.

"I bet you are."

His vision collapsed to a narrow tunnel as the pool of blood grew around him. Leigha tossed the knife next to the groaning boys. With the last of his strength, John raised his arm, fingers outstretched. Trying to touch her one last time. She jumped back, cackling.

"Leigha ..."

"Bye, John."

She skipped away, arms swinging by her sides. At the edge of the woods, she turned to face him. Blood speckled the white mask. The pale blue pupils visible through the plastic eyeholes.

The last thing he saw was his insane clown princess walking backwards, slowly. Fading away. The trees and shrubs swallowing her up.

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