Short Writing

Yesterday my friend John was murdered. His body was found in the forest. They still don’t know who did it but I hope they find out soon. The same sort of thing happened to a girl at my school she was found in her backyard.

It was a raining day my little brother Tyler was making a paper boat, he was going to race it down the drain alongside the road.

“Bye mum, and Bye bye Ben,” he said to me. Then he headed out. More than 3 hours passed and we still haven’t heard from Tyler, mom called the police and I called the neighbors to see if they had seen him lately or heard anything. No one seemed to know anything. The police were now looking outside our house. But less in 1 hour there was a knock on the door.

“Madam we have found your son, but I have some sad news,” the police officer said. Mum burst into tears. And a tear slowly trickled down my cheek.

“Whoever killed him wrote a giant 3 on him,” he said the shook on mom's face was like she was hit by thunder.

“Whoever killed him was the same person who killed the two other children.” he carried on

I didn’t get much sleep last night or the next night after that. But on Thursday when I was walking home from school, I heard something in the bush I turned my head and staring back at me was a pair of glowing red eyes. I tried to move but my legs were glued to the ground. The thing was slowly rising from the bush and what stood before me was a like goal but a clown. Finally, my legs started to work but not work they went fast like a rocket. I half the way down the street and I forced myself to look behind me. The clown was running to but the expression of its face was fear like he was running not only for me but for himself. I turned a corner and there was a bunch of people around I saw my teacher, miss swan. I basically throw myself on her. But I couldn’t speak. I was in shock. All I managed to say is:

“Help me” in a raspy voice. I was crying not only that but flooded in tears. My legs are weak and my head was dizzy.

“What do you mean,” said miss swan

“It, it, it” was all I could say.

“What do you mean? There's nothing there”

“But the clown” I stuttered and then I heard some giggling behind me. There was a crowd of people. Wish I knew that sooner.

“I think you're hallucinating,” Miss Swan said in a reproachful voice

“Maybe you should go home - I’ll call your mom” I didn’t know what to say I know it was fake but it wasn’t. I knew what I saw and what I saw. Was I going crazy? I went through these thoughts on the car ride home, when mom was saying something like, I was imagining my brother's death, and making a wrong reality. I just resorted to staring out the window and then. I saw it. The Clown.  

“MOM THERE IT IS!!” I cried the clown was in the bush. But when I looked back It was gone.

“Nothing” I replied. Then mom continued to talk about how I'm imaging things. But I knew I was right.

That night I didn’t get much sleep. I just lay there staring at the ceiling. Feeling trapped in a sort of way. Am I going crazy, am I …

A crash from downstairs interrupted in my head discussion. It sounded like mum was looking in the fridge for a midnight snack. I decided to have a snack too. I get out of bed and head downstairs. The lights were on. Mum.

But then. It happened so fast. A pale white hand quickly wrapped around my neck and lifted me off the ground and against the wall. I kicked and tried to scream but it just turned out to be little Wailes.  Before my eyes rolled into my brain I saw the clown. The clown that chased me down the street and the clown the drove me out of my mind. Then I heard something:

“Afraid, afraid, afraid,” the voice said. It was cracked and quite.

“Your afraid” I managed to say, it’s not easy to talk when you're on the road to death. The clown immediately dropped me. I fell to the ground.

“HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT” it screamed in my face. It pained me to the ground.

“I’m not scared I’m conservative” he seemed no longer talking to me. Then he took out an inhaler from his pocket and inhaled it.

“Hah that's better,” it said in a cheerful voice. Then he took out a mirror and started to pimp himself up. Doing hair, cheeking nails, and plumping lips.

“Your psychotic” I screamed it didn’t even look just took out a knife and stabbed me with it