The Clown Statue

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

A young girl is asked to babysit for a couple of kids. Feeling uncomfortable as a clown statue is constantly staring at her. Then she is told that the family do not own a clown statue anywhere in the house....


 

On a night that is dark, the night is as depressing as people who are trying to think. A night so black that dreams fail to be seen. Stars fail to shine bright because when a person dies at night, that star is dead in the death of the sky. The area is looking like a horror film where the atmosphere is gothic. Lightning is rumbling through the sky because it is deciding who to resurrect. While the lightning is deciding, the bones of dead people will be facing the great sleep in the cold earth of the cemetery.

Dark clouds are covering the area like a dark fog because nature is learning some dark magic. The moon is barely seen because it does not want to become an alibi to the criminal weather. Lightning is bullying the sky and this is forcing the moon to hide, so that it will not become a victim. Stars are disappearing like the final candle on a birthday cake, the wish is never granted. 

A large house resides in a place of solitude where homes do not speak. The sickly yellow sun went to bed feeling mortal and the blue skies went to sleep colourless, allowing the haunting moon and black space to make the outside world as bleak as depression. Branches will snap like a bone in a human body, leaves will fly like a kite in dead air, and time will go slowly so that monsters can invade the dreams of a child. The wind is blowing loud like it is knocking on the door of a person who is scared of the reaper.

A shadow approaches the front door instead of a soul and it feels that a human body is lifeless. Random knocking on the front door from a teenage girl who is just old enough to start watching horror films. The front door opens like a shark that is ready to swallow the life of death. A good looking older man greets his guest, smiling as he looks to the stars above and sees another light die from cancer. He greets his guest inside, out of the darkness and into the light, the traveller looking forward to rest.

“California does have some hidden wonders, but under the night of darkness, this place is the scariest I have felt…” The teenager will say, her first words spoken in life.

“California is home to many wonders, so I do apologise that we are out of the way of beaches and nightlife. Being surrounded by scary trees and a cemetery isn’t anyone's wish, but the view of the sea below and seeing it expand is beautiful. I do recommend you take a look tonight…” The man will reply.

Coming down the stairs is the man’s wife, who is dressed up like an aspect of death, waiting for a scythe. Her two children follow behind her, too scared to walk to the cemetery alone. The lightning outside is getting angry because it has still not resurrected a monster. The teenage girl is looking at the family and they look like fruit that has started to rot from the touch of the thorn. It is like angels have had their wings cut off become demons were the only ones to adopt them.

“Are you ready dear?” The wife asks.

The husband hands the teenager a card with his number, her one lifeline to survive the horror of death. 

“Here is my number, and the number of the restaurant we will be at. If you need to contact me later, and you do not get an answer, it will be because we are in the cinema. Be a good boy and girl for the babysitter kids…” Asks the father who won father of the year last night.

“We will” The children say like it is the chorus of a song.

“When the children are in bed, please watch tv in the main room. This house is rather large, so we would not want people or things to get disturbed or lost…” The father with a friendly warning, yet the ghost of Casper would even find that scary.

“That is fine” The babysitter says.

“Help yourself to food in the kitchen” The wife mentions to the babysitter.

“Me and the children will be fine. Go and enjoy a beautiful romantic night…” The babysitter is being pleasant. 

The parents leave like a person becoming lost in the abyss of the night. The babysitter will have a look at the surrounding areas outside, where the ocean below is sounding like music that has become violent, and a castle that was built for a vampire to reside in. The wind has stopped blowing and the breathing of a person has died. The light of the moon is fading because it is not meant to be guidance for the lost souls at night. Anyone seeking guidance in the dark night will become the broken dial of a compass.

The babysitter is playing upstairs with the kids for a while, where dim lights feel safe and learn to smile. A winter wonderland of a story is being told by an adult. She will put the children to sleep after reading them a lullaby, where dreams will weep and heroes will cry. The children decided to sleep when the tiredness of their eyes shut their eyelids so that they could not be a witness to a murder. The weather forecast predicts a warning of snow and a storm, tomorrow morning will be frozen so deep, and the yellow sun in depressing skies will find it hard to find a place where it can keep warm.

The babysitter walks down the stairs, and into the kitchen to pillage, stealing from the village. She takes food and water, leaving more countries relegated to the third world. Walking into the main room just as slow as a zombie who has to think. She will sit, rest and watch tv. Playing a game of spin the bottle with invisible friends, a car will always crash going around hard bends. Skipping through the channels, she becomes uncomfortable. Next to the tv stands a smiling clown statue and it is not a dwarf who belongs to Snow White. A statue that is made of stone making her feel the genre of horror more than a horror film itself.

She places her eyes more on the clown and it is freaking her out. The smile of the clown is a cursed nightmare in her eyes, the statue of Medusa. The smile and stare of the clown is getting more menacing, even as an object that is made from stone. She is feeling cold in her own skin even though she is sitting beside a warm fire. A continuous siren of the sadistic clowns' laughter is running through her mind and she is under the spell of the Mindflayer. Blackness is the sign of her fear in her enlarged eyes as the colour is lost from her eyes of the rainbow. The only voice inside her head is a clown laughing and it makes her put her hands over her ears, like she is locked in an insane asylum wearing a straight jacket. She cannot sit in the same place as she is speaking to herself; angels and demons fighting on her shoulders, her different personalities colliding.

She takes her mobile phone from her pocket and phones the father of the children. The phone is ringing, which will cost more than she can spend on tears, and plastic flowers are facing plastic fears. The phone keeps on ringing and the siren of a telephone hotline is the wrong number. The more the phone rings the more it is sounding like the screaming of a person who is seconds from death. A few more seconds and the phone is still ringing, a conversation with dead people. The clown keeps smiling and the phone will cut out, people fear answering in the dark. She keeps dialling and the clown statue keeps smiling.

“Hello?” The father will answer.

“Hello, I am babysitting for your children. I do not mean to disrupt your evening, but can I watch tv in another room?” She asks the question that could have an answer that could lead to her death.

“What seems to be the bother?” The father confused.

“It’s the clown statue next to the tv. It keeps smiling, staring at me and it is really making me feel fucking uncomfortable. It is freaking me out, and I don’t want to wake the children up by screaming…” The babysitter showing her concern.

“Go wake up the kids, take them with you, go next door and phone the police…” The father with a lousy joke.

“What seems to be the bother?” The babysitter is feeling inquisitive.

“No time to hang around. Do as I say. Go and get the kids and go next door. Quickly call the police…”

“You’re getting strange. What is the problem?”

“We do not have a clown statue next to the tv. We do not have a clown statue anywhere in the house…” His final answer to become a millionaire.

The babysitter hangs up the phone, running upstairs to wake the children, who growl when sunrise happens in the darkness when they rise. The children sleepwalking as they follow the babysitter out of the room and out of the house. Running to the next house, knocking on the door and a neighbour kindly greets them inside on a marble floor. After a moment of indiscreet chatter, he points to the phone, a shortcut to survive a horror film. The night feeling more menacing as the light of all stars have died in the cemetery of the sky. She phones the police and will tell them what is going on, the informant snitching on the night. Putting the phone down, when they come, will the clown statue be gone?

Police cars will arrive at the house, and the girl and the two children will meet them at the driveway. The police will open the front door, telling the babysitter and the children to stay. Walking into the front room and they see the clown statue smile. A light is shining on him but it is flickering, another star will soon be slumbering in the cemetery of the sky. The light still dimming as it flickers on and off, the last candle will decide the fate of a birthday wish. The policeman places a finger on the forehead of the clown, the compass will lead elsewhere. The eyes of the clown statue blink and the policeman will fall back. A statue of stone with human features, a ghost has died in cement. 

The policeman moves forward like it is his move in a game of chess. The clown blinks again and the light is becoming dimmer, the torch losing the life of a battery. The clown blinks again more than once, so the policeman apprehends the clown. The clown is moving, showing some life; will someone lose theirs to the blade of a knife? The clown statue turns out to be a homeless, harmless midget. At the police station, the policeman is talking to the clown, asking why he was there.

“What were you doing in the house? Nobody from the property knows who you are, so why were you in their front room dressed as a clown statue?” 

“I am harmless and also homeless. I found an opportunity to find shelter for a few weeks, and I took food when I could. When the babysitter entered the room, I did not have time to hide, so I froze like a statue instead…”

“Do you know anyone who lives at the property?”

“I don’t, but are those children the biological children of the man and wife who live there, or are they adopted?” A curious question from a curious character.

A couple of weeks have passed since the incident, and the man and wife are getting ready to go back out on another romantic night. No clown statue is in sight, the day the laughter died. The dark sky outside is not feeling romantic because the harsh winds have decapitated the petals of all flowers. Not one star is shining in the sky because the light of all love has died. The cemetery is the most romantic place to be because all of the dead people in the ground keep each other company all year round. The babysitter is in the main hallway talking to the children, where she is losing a play fight. In the play fight she has lost her life and like a videogame, it is game over.

The parents leave, and after an hour of staying up, she puts the children to bed. They instantly are sleeping while dreams are weeping. It is looking like the children are not having nightmares because the scary gothic night has not invaded their hearts. She will go outside and welcome the painted landscape, which will prefer to contain the art of death. The dark skies are looking like that they have been painted from an artist who was depressed. Lighting a cigarette, every puff she takes means more polluted lakes. The smoke from her cigarette is a premonition of a house burning with smoke somewhere else in the world.

She sits down in the living room, and the clown statue is back, next to the tv. Smiling at her, staring at her, wearing the same makeup, costume and gloves. Before she can phone the police, another clown statue appears behind her, from behind the couch. The babysitter does not notice, and the clown statue behind her slits her throat. Blood is pouring down her neck as a new waterfall is discovered. Blood that is warm in the coldest season. The season of giving is also the season of death. Her dead body is looking like it has found the frozen fear. Running red blood is the only thing alive on her body, the art and colour of death.

The clown statue from next to the tv walks to the babysitter giggling, blowing a balloon that will pop like a magic trick that is corrupted. A flag is blowing without wind, the breathing inside her body has learnt to die. Reaching the babysitter, he stabs her in the heart as he giggles more, curtains closing on a life that closes its door. Looking like she has been alone for a century of years, her body has turned wooden, and the puppet committed suicide before the night of the puppetteer’s play.

The parents return home later in the night. They walk into the front room and see the babysitter dead in the chair. Wounds from a sharp object, the culprit not Michael or Fred. The parents then go upstairs to find the children peacefully sleeping. No sign of a clown statue anywhere as the parents are silently weeping. The moon will hide behind the darkness because it doesn’t want to be the last light to enter the cemetery of the dark sky…

The Clown Statue © 2022 Dexter Matthew Castle. All rights reserved.



Submitted: December 04, 2022

© Copyright 2023 TheUndyingDarkSoul. All rights reserved.

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Comments

jaylisbeth

This is pure gold, my dearest Dexter!!! Excellent tale and perfectly written. The image in my mind of this eerie clown was spooky! You just have this unwavering knack for dark stories. So proud!

Tue, December 13th, 2022 5:38pm

Author
Reply

Just nice to write some good old fashioned realsitic horror. I love clowns, so I had to write a story featuring one. It was hard writing this, because it was very hard to come up with sentences most of the time. If my stories were not dark, they would not work at all. I always appreciate you reading my work :)

Wed, December 14th, 2022 2:06pm

BriannasBooks

I loved the imagery this started out with - the descriptions of the darkness outside really set the scene for how creepy this was! The poor babysitter just trying to do her job. It must have been so terrifying for her once she found out the family doesn't actually own a clown statue. Great job as always, this story was a knockout! :)

Mon, January 9th, 2023 1:16am

Author
Reply

Just trying to think outside the box a little, while keeping it mainly with realsim. This story was quite hard to write, even with a final edit. I think it turned out ok, but I was happy that it was another story written. I am enjoying writing on Booksie again. I thought the whole thing with the clown statue was a believeable concept while keeping some realism, so it was a decent story. I do feel that I will write better stories the more I post on here, and I do give each work I write the same amount of editing etc, just some pieces will be better written than others. Thanks for reading and commenting :)

Mon, January 9th, 2023 12:39pm

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