My Clown

6

This chapter contains music from "Put your head on my shoulder" by Paul Anka.

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I was sat in the back of the room and just finished watching the first few comedian acts perform up on stage. Everyone shared a few giggles and clapped for each one.

I was nervous sitting in such a busy environment; it was hard for me to get out of the apartment. Even though everyone was chatting amongst themselves, I felt a cold stare on me. The news were already out, everyone knew of course. What if they'd suspect something of me? The thought of getting caught boiled in my mind. I slumped back against my chair, my legs trembling furiously. What time is the break over at again? I didn't enjoy going out to fun places anymore, but I couldn't waste my life sitting inside a small apartment just because of a murder I committed! I still had my whole life to go. Besides I had to go out for essential shopping and stuff. I hated this, but do I regret what I did? Ha, no! They deserved it! But I was mostly here to support Arthur, he's a sweetheart and a good friend, he needs someone to be there for him, someone who really cares and loves him just like I do. Wait a minute?!

The room fell silent as the lights dimmed down. I was snapped out of my thoughts when the man announced Arthur up on stage. The crowd applauded for him. My face brightened up, my eyes sparkled with anticipation. I whistled at him, but he didn't notice me as it was almost impossible for him to see any faces in the dark crowd. It was amazing to see Arthur like this, in a charming red suit up on stage. I was so proud of him.

He stood in front of the microphone under the harsh spotlight and took in a big inhale.

"Hello," he said softly under his breath, then giggled, "Hello it's good to be here."

His giggles immediately dissolved into full on laughter. He was having his laughing fit again. Seeing him like this made me upset, my heart ripped; he dreamt about this moment for his whole life, only for it to turn out like this?People began whispering and sniggering rude comments that were too painful for me to hear. He tried covering his mouth with his arms and grabbed his throat to try reduce it, he was trying so hard to tell his joke, it made me tear up. I prayed for it to stop, hoping for some kind of miracle would end his suffering.

He managed to recover and went back to doing his routine he practiced in front of the mirror at home. I sighed, thankful that it was over. I paid close attention.

"I h-h-hated school as a kid. But my mother would always say," then he tried imitating his mother, "You should enjoy it. One day you'll have to work for a living," he smiled, "No I won't, Ma. I'm gonna be a comedian!"

I smiled, even though he had gone off with a bad start I was still proud of him that he kept on going. He was so brave and that made me happy.

He flicked through his journal until he spotted a joke, "Um...here's one. You know, I was just thinking the other day. Why are the rich people so confused by the poor people?"

I leaned forward, eager to hear the punchline.

"Because they don't make any cents!"

I cracked up laughing, his joke was dark but oddly I've always enjoyed dark humour! When I was younger my parents would always start getting on at me for laughing at the most inappropriate times, but I knew it would hurt other people's feelings so I kept quiet about it; until I met Arthur of course, every time when he had written something funny in his journal he'd come into work and would share it with me.

The audience clapped, unsure how to react. I cheered loudly which caught him off guard. He looked around, squinting his eyes and made out that it was me in the back of the room. His lips lifted upwards, his face lit up and soon turned bright red. He nodded happily and read out his next joke.