Clowns in my Closet
Marie Feeley
Published by Brandon Woodhead at Smashwords
Scared and alone, I couldn't stop the shiver of icy cold fear from running down my spine. The horrifying realization that the 12th hour was fast in approaching, had me quivering under my blankets. I wasn't afraid of the dark, it was the mysterious ghoulies that mischievously made a menace of themselves night after night that had the goosebumps spread, like a rask, all over my small, pale, helpless body.
I was extremely anxious for the usual poltergeist activity to start so it would finish. The waiting tore at me with feverish changes of heat and chills wrecking my body. Part of the vast mystery of my new home was the reason these ephemeral visits were happening at all and why to me? Why, why, why? What had I done to deserve this? I had not slept in weeks.
A cold limb touched my cheeks and a startled cry rose from my throat. However it was only the wet little nose of Casper, my harmless, cuddly cat. I quickly scooped his furry body under the flimsy protection of my blankets. Finding comfort in the animal's warmth and heartbeat I had almost convinced myself that nothing creepy was going to happen tonigh. Then, it began. It started with the strange noises from the closet, shuffling, scratching, soft shrieking. The laughter came next. High-pitched, hellish, cackling ending with a strang chilling “A-hoo-hoo-hoo, we're going to get you!” followed by more laughter. Evil clowns hiding between my clothes.
The poor cat let out a choked mew as I became desperate to hide myself within his fur. “T-there there Casper!” I stuttered to calm him. But who would calm my thundering heart?
A green glow seeps from the cracks around the closet door. Inching its way across the floor as if it were a living mass that carried the stench of death. I was frozen where I lay, such was the intensity of my terror. My previous attempts at ghost hunting had turned up nothing, but the tendrils of glowing mist that clung to my blankets, were not my imagination. “A-hoo-hoo-hoo!Finally! We'll get you!” they mock.
The blankets are ripped from me, so is Casper, scratching and screaming. I screamed too. A scream of mortal terror ripped the deepest region of my soul as the glowing mist, my sadistic tormentors, smothered and choked me with there oppressive otherworldly force. I screamed for a few seconds longer, then screamed no more