Clowns

It was clear dark night, clear white moon. Braden and De'Angelo out at Pleasent Run escaping the school room. Seth ditch looking for a jolly rancher that he stole from Kennedy. Nadia and Barbara just happened to be walking through the same location when they stumbled upon their classmates. Rumor has it Conner and Michael have been wearing clown masks and scary the neighborhood children. But little do they know there is a vicious killer clown lurking in the shadows. Apparently a Pleasant Run student, Carmelo, hasn't been seen since crossing the Clowns path last week. Nathan, Trevor and Mark have been frantically looking for their friend but all they been able to find were shards of his clothing that he wore to the school dance.

Clowns are the most common form of entertainment at festivals, amusement parks, and almost any 6 year old's birthday party you go to. Once the symbol of fun and happiness, clowns are sometimes seen as a trigger for fear. so how does such a happy, and cheerful symbol turn into such a terrifying in the blink of an eye? I could tell you how, but wheres the fun in that? No, I won't tell you, but I will give you this. Imagine, you're sitting at a birthday party, and a cheerful clown, holding balloons and candy, laughing and squeaking a horn enters the room. He sits down next to you, and without saying a word, creates a childish canine balloon animal. He hands it to you, and you smile as you take it. You nod thanks and continue with the party, thinking nothing of it. The rest of the party goes smoothly, nothing seeming out of place, though you begin to get a strange feeling from the seemingly nice clown. A friend gives you a ride home, dropping you off at your house at around 11 pm. You walk up to your house, puzzled at the lack of barking from your dog. You open the front door, and instead of being greeted by your dog, you are greeted by balloons on the floor. Panicked, you run through the house, calling your dogs name. you enter the bathroom, and scream. The friendly clown is standing there, a knife in his hand, your dog whimpering in the corner. You sigh in relief as the clown steps closer. You realize now, that while your dog is alive, you soon, will not be.

On the date of March 15 2019, was little Tommy’s birthday he had just turned 6. He liked clowns and since his parents had a clown costume, his mom made his dad dress up as it for the party. The dad came out and played with all the kids. He did balloon animals, did magic tricks, everything a real clown should do. The mom thought that was weird, considering Tommy only just said he wanted a clown at his party yesterday night at dinner and his dad knew how to do none of what he was doing so well at the time, but just pushed it to the back of her mind. The party was now over and Tommy’s mom had just laid him down for bed. She went into her bathroom where the husband was still dressed in the costume, and said where did you learn all that, the husband said he didn't know he was just doing it, the mom looked at his weird and cautiously said okay, and went to lay down. She was just dozing off when the dad came into the bedroom with the costume still on. He called her name in a low, but high tone. “Maryyyyyyy”. Mary quickly jumped up to see her husband, in a scarier looking clown costume, and scarier looking face, than before, slowly walking up to her with a knife in his hand, “what are you doing Jerry?” Mary said. In the same tone as before Jerry replied, “let’s playyyyy” and charged for his wife. But to him just a woman he wanted to kill. Mary screamed, but just before he reached her, Tommy walked in and said….

It seems to get worse and worse. This fear within me that doesn't to go away. During October it gets worse, the worse month for me. Everywhere I turn I seem to see that red crazy hair that hunts me.

My therapist looks at me "It's been two years since the incident, are you still afraid?" The sound of her voice made it seem like I was crazy for feeling scared but I answered anyways "Yes, I still can't get the idea that he's chasing me out of my head." My response was real, I couldn't stop feeling like he was there around the corner. "would you like to tell me how it happened again?, do you remember any new details?" I've told her my story many times and it always seems like she doesn't believe me, like im lying, but I'm determined to get through to her. "No, nothing new but I'll tell you anyways." "Me and my friend were walking around at night on the first day of october, we were joking that it was "spooky season" as we passed the cornfield at the bottom of my street, then we saw it, a large white hand poking out of the corn, waving, taunting us to come closer. As the gullible teenagers we were we went up to the hand and I gave it a high five, to my surprise it grabbed me and pulled me into the corn, I screamed out of pure surprise, then out of horror as I saw the terrifying, smiling face peering down at me its hand wrapped around my neck. I slapped at the clown pushing it away forcing it to let me go, my hands covered in white face paint as he let me go I could see some of his unpainted face, the face that haunts me. I ended that night running up the road holding my friends hand and screaming. It's been two years since then and I'm still haunted, he's still there.

“Look mommy it's a scary clown!” a six year old girl says. I approach her because that's in the job description. “Hey sweetie,” I exclaim “do you want a lollipop?” She screams and runs away. I always wonder why parents hire clowns if the kids are always going to run away? Even though they are little kids it still hurts when they do, I even drew a bigger smile this time. I spent the whole two hours there trying to get the kids to like me. I made them animal balloons, juggled, told jokes, and was acting like a complete idiot just to crack one little side grin or chuckle but I didn't even get that. I left and went straight home, my ego was completely destroyed and I had to take this time to boost it back up. I gave myself a little pep talk. “You are funny, you are not scary, you are good at your job.” Then something happened. I looked in the mirror and decided that I needed to change, I wasn't going to continue to live like this. I grabbed my chainsaw and chuckled “they are really going to have something to scream about now.”

The night is alive, with lights and baloons dancing in the breeze. The snow twirls as it drifts to the ground, leaping and lunging through the air. People line the streets, screaming, their feet pounding the weathered pavement. Children are crying, begging their parents to stay just a little longer, just so they can meet Chuckles. Chuckles stands at a whopping 6'5'' with long, shiny red shoes and a painted on nose. He wears a long gown that resembles a curtain, covered in stars and circles of all different colors. His smile is menacing, oversized yellowing teeth beneath chapped ruby red lips. His eyes are like fire, hot and angry, hurting whatever it touches. He sits on a thrown of toys watching the children waiting in line to meet him. A boy, no older than six years old stumbles up to the clown, currently slumped hopelessly in his chair. With a defiant snarl, the boy lowers his head like a battering ram, and charges the oblivious clown.

They wander around the world aimlessly. A hudge phony smile plastered on their face. Their eyes though, show pure malice, glaring down at the small child. This isn't a child's game. They laugh with menace, giggling and screaming their wig's off. They dance around the child; their hands flying all around, in an irregular motion. They bonk and hit their noses that are as red as blood. Their shoes, too big for them, clamper onto the snow-covered ground crushing little girl's dream. "Never lurk in the shadows past midnight," adult's warned every night before they said goodnight to there children. The clowns, they call themselves, lay hidden in the deepest parts of the cold, frosty shadows. They wait, patiently, playing their haunting music of a child's nightmares. They're waiting for each one of us, waiting for us to join them in their frightful calls of terror.

It was pitch black that night, so dark that if it weren’t for the street lamps casting a hazy, yellow glow every few feet I wouldn’t be able to see anything in front of me. The wind, chilly and strong, beat against my back and ruffled my long hair as I walked home that Halloween night. I usually didn’t go out on Halloween, tending to invite friends over to my house where we would gorge ourselves on candy and watch movies all night. This year, however, we did something different. Some kids that went to our school were hosting a Halloween party and they’d invited us to attend. At first, I was a little weary. I’d always been apprehensive of leaving the comfort of my house on Halloween night due to all the warnings I would get from my mother about people being killed or terrorized. Still, that night my friends and I went to the party, which turned out to be hundreds of drunk teenagers dressed up in ridiculous costumes. I left almost immediately, not wanting to be present when a neighbor would eventually call the police to break up the loud gathering. I was 5 blocks away from my house when I heard what sounded like footsteps behind me. I almost immediately started walking faster, my heart beating so fast I thought it was going to jump out of my chest. When I was about a block away from my house, I heard a high pitched honk. I risked a glance over my shoulder and the sight made my blood run cold. A pale, white face, sinister, yellow eyes, and a bright, red mouth set in a smirk.

October 1, 1983 The dim lighting hid and illuminated those in and without it. Hay and popcorn littered the floor, with footprints both human and animal stamping into an even path. In a booth far on the end of it, sat a clown. Not a man in a costume, a clown. His nose was truly red, and his face stark white. With exclamations of surprise, enslaving his features. The booth was overpopulated with balloon animals, wild and tame. They all faced the path, with their eyes staring out of the shadows. Not a single consumer in their sane mind would stop by, until a boy about the innocent age of 6, wandered in. “Hey Mister! Can you make me a snake balloon? I think I have enough,” he fumbled in his little pockets “One, two, three hm five?”. The clown smiled, leaned towards the boy and said “ Why sure! I’m sure that’ll be enough!” He reached for the snake, and wrapped it around the boys arm. The boys smile grew and he stood proud as a small explorer, thanked the clown and ran off. The clown’s focus was glued to the boy as he ran bouncing away. The boy didn't notice the slow shift of the balloon onto his neck. It began to gradually constrict his neck. He stopped to take a breath and turned to see the clown approaching him. He fell to the ground clawing for air, as tears rolled down his plump cheeks. He gripped the snake with his usual childish sticky hands, until the walls of his throat became one, and nightmares were all that remained in the closing of his eyes.

“Toot, toot!” The clown was honking his handheld horn in my face obnoxiously. “Quit it,” I snarled at him, “I’m too old for this stupid party anyways.” Mom had dragged me out of the house and into our backyard where my little sister’s birthday party was going on. He looked like any other birthday clown, with poofy rainbow hair and a blank white face painted with a rainbow colors. The baggy pants he wore had a funky design on them. They looked familiar to me. “I haven’t been to a party with a clown since I was a little kid,” I thought to myself and I shrugged the thought off. The clown gave me a dumb look and sulked away to where the kids were hanging out. I cracked a smile knowing that I had made him feel bad about himself. Watching him slowly make his way back to the swarm of kids, he suddenly stopped and looked back at me. I could feel his eyes staring into mine. He menacingly licked his lips and then pointed directly at me. A shiver ran down my spine. It was him. The clown from last Halloween...

Ever since the dawn of time, humans have reigned over the natural world by the power of logic, language, and sub-consciousness, These abilities, exclusive to the human race, have enabled us to tame the earth. As a human, I believe in the same principle that most modern day airlines also agree on, help yourself first before assisting others. This is extremely important because if the capable and wiser (yes we are more intelligent than animals) person doesn’t help themselves first they are actually doing the weaker person (or animal) a disfavor by crippling the only person that has the capabilities to help them. In other words, we as humans need to help ourselves first. Even though it may be cruel to a few animals. Like it or not, it is our duty as men and women to protect our human family. Think about it this way, if there were two boxes, one contained your mother and the other contained 1,000 rats, and you had to destroy one of the boxes, which would you choose to destroy? The rats, easy, but what if the animal was a little cuter; let's say the other box is now full of bunnies! Or sea turtles?! The correct answer is that it doesn’t matter what animal or how many of them are in the other box you should (really you should) always save your mom, because humans come first! In conclusion It’s better for 1,000 animals to die than one human so if these animals could be used to save just one life, their death will not be in vain. And testing should be continued.

oct.04.2019 Today I went to Cara's house. Us and a few others ended up riding our bikes to the corner store to get some ice cream. We all rode our bikes down the road to the school. We sat around for hours and lost track of time. It was already 8 o'clock and I had to head home but I stayed for a bit longer. Cara and I eventually decided to go back at around 9:30 by ourselves. On our way back, we rode fast, the sun had set and the wind was picking up. We took a short cut through the field where the grass was up to our knees. The wind was hitting my face and it stung. We stopped for a second for Cara to grab some water from her bag and as we waited in silence, there was a rustle in the trees in the distance. We started riding again but soon after we heard thumping. It was getting closer and closer. I looked back to see a clown. He was wearing a colorful but ripped suit with a faded mask. He stood at around 6 feet tall and I froze. He had stopped as well and started to speak. Cara had noticed and stopped as well. We both had froze as his voice echoed in the cold wind through the field. He started to walk closer and closer to us. His shadow and voice getting closer and closer. Cara had grabbed my arm and we left our bikes and started to run. I stumbled and dropped my bag and everything I held. I heard his footsteps get faster and faster.

“It’s really quiet... almost too quiet,” whispered Billy to Sam in the smallest voice his throat could possibly produce. All around them the city that only seconds before had been bustling with people was just, well, muted. The two boys didn’t know what to do, they didn’t know why they felt the need to whisper, and they didn’t know why they had that peculiar feeling that a spider was crawling up their back and seemed to whisper to them, “someone’s watching…” The pair stumbled around the catacomb of twisted gnarly trees and ominous mountains of schist, that in the light made up central park was but a nightmare in a dead city. As the boys followed the worn and littered paths they had grown up walking they felt the spider return to its roost on their back, but this time they saw the source. Up in the canopy of a nearby tree set a clown, covered in white paint with what appeared to be red paint smeared all around his cracked lips, and to add to the boy’s already immense fear the clown was... giggling. And not the giggle like you might find in a coffee house or restaurant, the giggle that has a meaning, the giggle of intention. At that moment the clown whipped its head around from its fixed gaze on the lifeless city and set its yellow, bloodshot eyes on the boys, and as the smeared red makeup started to rise on the clowns face to an almost ear to ear smile filled with mangled rotten teeth all sharpened to a point, only one thing was certain in Billy’s mind, this was not a dream.

The year was 2016, I decided to dress as a clown for Halloween. My friends and I joked about the killer-clowns often; we didn’t believe they were real, but this Halloween changed my mind. It was the night of Halloween my friend Kalib decided to bring a speaker with us blasting the well known and overplayed song One Dance by Drake, our other friends hopped behind us and pretty soon random people we didn’t even know were surrounding us. I didn’t think much of it at first, I no longer could see Kalib, but I heard the music still. As I continued looking for Kalib I saw another person dressed as a clown, staring right at me. Him liking my clown costume was not the case, he began to move closer, I felt nervous, I tried to find Kalib but he was nowhere to be found.

The branches of the apple trees scratched my face as I ran by. As the branches pierced my skin all I could think about was how the wounds of what the clown would do to me if he caught up. The thoughts made me cry. I glanced over my shoulder to see where he was but I saw nothing. I turned around to continue my race throughout the apple orchard when I saw him.The clown who killed my town coming at me with a spear. His red hair and polka dot outfit splattered with blood made me stop in my tracks. There was no time to react before he was here, one foot in front of me. The next thing I knew his spear covered in the crimson remains of my friends and family tore through my chest, all I knew was that I was dead, or was I?

My friend told me showing up to his birthday party was the best thing I could do that day. So I considered it. In the end I decided that, since the best entertainment would be a clown I'd pass. But then, mom got involved. She overheard me talking on the phone and decided to make me go. Ralph had been my friend since kindergarten anyway so I was basically required to go. I went and the party was fine. The clown was lame honking his nose, cracking cheesy jokes, and making me regret even considering this. But on my way out the clown puled me aside and said something along the lines of this, "I know where you live and I've seen where you sleep. Watch under your bed tonight. You never know whats there."

Clara was an ordinary girl. But there was something...unusual that she was soon to find out. The rustling, unusual sound of constant movement that came from the walls had been going on for years. But when the walls where being re-done, a secret was about to be uncovered. One wall is torn out, nothing. Two walls torn out, nothing but debris. Three walls torn out. Still nothing alive. When the fourth wall was torn out, what they found was unexplainable. It was tall, with a pale white face with makeup like a clown. Polka dotted jumpsuit, torn and ripped at the seams with patches of brown, sewn on leather. The look on its face. It seemed like a clown from the movies. A ratty mess of yellow, purple, and what seemed like green fuzz on its head. Chased. Running through the house trying to find somewhere where it couldn’t find her. Somewhere, somewhere where her life could last just a while longer. Soon to come the suffer. Like the distant rumble of thunder, slowly approaching, the real storm. A whisper…. “Good luck, Clara.”

By Nicholas Theriault, Sixth Grader at Noble Middle School in Berwick ME Ugh, seriously. My parents hired a clown for my birthday again. Don’t they understand? I don’t like clowns! They give me the heeby-jeebies! Just like spidows! Ugh, he isn’t funny. He is pulling a rope out of his mouth. Ew! He’s making Jarold wear it as a scarf! That’s disusting! Hmph. “Jarold, don’t do that! The clown is a stranger!” I shout to Jarold. “Stranger danger, stranger danger!” shouted Laurie. “Calm down, everyone, calm down. He’s just a clown. He won’t hurt anyone.” Why is my mommy always so smart? She’s like my favorite superhero, Super Braineo! He flies through the city, putting all the baddies in jail! My favorite episode is when he takes the clo--. Oh. I don’t want to talk about clow--jokers-- right now. They not funny. Just creepy. He’s doing the old bunny-out-of-the-hat trick. “Are you a clow--comedian-- or a magician, Mr. Weirdo!?” I shout to that guy. I don’t think he hears me because he just turns to me and offers me a bawoon animal. Sheesh, I can’t believe adults these days. They never understand.

It was fun when me and my best friend Mackenzie would try to explain the premise of Steven King’s “It” to any of our friends at camp. It was my second year of going to this camp (and my last), and we were all huddled around Mackenzie with her huge book. We weren’t allowed to have our phones, so what’s better than trying to understand one of Stephen King’s masterpieces. I had never read it, but when Harris was in the process of reading “It” the summer prior as well as the first few days of camp that year, she’d tell me every single detail of what she read, and we’d laugh at all of the strange lines and quotes she found. Looking up into Summer’s blue sky, surrounded by a group of girls I loved so much, and talking about a book about a shape shifting demon clown, I knew I was at home again. I was ready to enjoy my last year of camp, even if all we’d do is talk about Pennywise, Richie, and Eddie, and of course Marion.

One cloudy day we were hearing reports of children who had been missing for weeks and even months. Parents would call in and report that their child had gone missing. After we got all the details we would send out a search party, however, we never found a single child. After about three months we discovered they all had gone missing after their twelfth or thirteenth birthday. When we discovered this we went to the parents and told them what we had found. We discovered one constant after talking to the parents, with every birthday party there was a clown who was never invited to the parties. The parents said they had no clue who this mysterious clown was. We set out a report of a clown with multi-colored balloons, red hair, white makeup, and the smile of a demon. So we set out to find him, we found the next child who was turning twelve and we watched him all day staying undercover. Just as we thought the clown had come to the party. We watched them all day and all evening. after the party, we waited until nine-thirty o'clock. Just as we were about to leave the clown arrived at the boy's window. We knew he had found his next target.

One stormy day I was walking down an alley. The Alley was in between two of the cities most terrible apartments I could hear screaming, crying and gunshots. I knew that I was taking a chance going down this alley, but I had to find them I had been searching for them for my entire life. Anyway halfway through the alley I saw some balloons going around the corner. I dumbfounded why would there be balloons on a rainy day. I sprinted as fast as I could to the end of the alley then I saw it. I stopped in my stracks horrified at what I saw a clown my only fear its red straight hair, runny makeup, red nose and lipstick and teeth the pointy uneven yellow disgusting teeth. I felt nauseous and knew I had made a mistake. The clown was creeping forward slowly and that’s when I felt the life seeping out of me darker and darker until I could see nothing.

I was walking to down to the barn when all of a sudden this clown came out of nowhere. I ran and ran until I got inside the barn and started to warn all the other people. but they kept saying that I was lying and that it couldn't be true. I said just wait until it shows up trying to eat you up. But it never did. now they couldn't trust me but wait what was that. There was a bang on the door and a shreak from outside, and that is when I knew that it was coming. when it walked in everyone screamed but they didn't run they all started laughing.

One day this clown named Cleaner. He has red hair, white skin. and blue clothing. He was going to a 3-year-olds birthday party. That's why he has all those colorful balloons. Look at that friendly smile! Around 10 hours later he got there. He was in a moving house. The house is called a car. He lives in his car. Just go with it okay? Okay. When he got there the only thing he could think about was, "What if I duel one of these?" He grabbed the water gun, which was empty. No water around. It was all drunk. He told the kid, Billy, to grab the water gun. He told another kid to help. They took 10 paces and shot. The clown got hurt. He got up and put himself together. Ya, he got hurt with air. Go with it. It was his time to shine. All of the kids gathered around. He told jokes. He went home! That is it! I know I was going to make a paragraph but i made a short story! Bye!

I think this picture is of a clown. Years ago he was paid to go to little kids birthday parties and entertain them, but one day him and his "dog" weeners (which was a balloon weenie dog, which wasn't alive but in his mind it was) were walking down the street in San Francisco going to a little boy's birthday party but suddenly a car came speeding through the streets and ran over and popped weeners. The clown was very sad- btw his name is Doug. Doug was very sad but he loved seeing kids happy so he couldn't let the kids down and not go to the party so he went. When he showed up he saw a familiar face. It was the face of the lady who popped Weeners!!!! Ever since then he's been a serial killer and kills anybody that has even close to the same features of the lady that ran over Weeners. The End

Im going to write a fake story about a clown. I was eating my chicken sand which on a bench in the woods on a path. When i noticed a balloon fell next to me form the sky. it was red and said "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" I was really confused. i yelled out"whoever out there come out or i'm calling the police!" I wasn't going to do it it was probably just a kid pranking me. Then i looked up and there were hundreds of balloons falling surrounding me. I cant see in front of me. i'm terrified. then I hear somebody laugh. i don't know what to do. Somebody touches my shoulder and then i start shooting into the sky. i looked at whats grabbing me. IT WAS A CLOWN. he was just looking at me floating. He dropped me......i fell........down.....down.....down. BOOM! i wake up instantly in my bed sweaty in the middle of the night. I dint get sleep that night.