The Clock Strucks Danger

Anything For My Daughter

A case of mainstream psychotics.

The following story is written in first person. What would you do to make your kid happy ?

My life revolves around my daughter, Celia. I can and will do anything to see that beautiful smile on her face. Ever since, her bastard father left us alone when she was but a seven months old infant I have resolved to make her happiness my sole priority in life. She is now a pretty little girl of three years of age with a sweet sunny disposition.

Lately, though, she was been unhappy. I bought her some nice new toys, sweets and what not but she still seemed frustrated about something. She puffs out her cheeks in anger and spits at me if I ever go to console her. Needless to say, she broke all her toys and fed the sweets to the stray dogs. I couldn't take it anymore. One day, finally, I broke down and asked her what she wanted to become happy like she was before.

Her answer was simple. She wanted to be entertained.

Naturally I asked her what miracle I could do to entertain her to which she replied, "Mommy,I want a clown. They are so funny."

And thus began my search for clowns.

I approached many circus shows and had hired clowns come over at our house and entertain but that did not cheer her up. Of course, I bought her many clown dolls and wind up toys but those did not hold her fancy for long either. She wore a long face at home all the time. And it pained me to see her this way.

One day she was watching the television and suddenly I could hear her tinkling laughter ! Oh, what joy it gave to my heart I can not explain. Turns out she was cackling at this advertisement which featured a handsome young man cruising through busy streets on the latest motor bike model.

"He funny !" She pointed at his image on the screen with her tiny fingers, "Me want that clown !"

I could not understand what on earth was there on that motorbike advertisement that held my daughter interest but, by now, I was willing to do anything she wanted.

"Do you want him to come here ?" I asked her. She nodded in reply.

I figured that it won't be a difficult job contacting the motorbike company and tracking down their advertisement model.

Sure enough I got to know of him. He was called Dominique or something. I asked his manager if he was up for hire and it turns out that he was ! I lied that I had a TV show coming up and needed him to audition for a role.

My plan worked well and no one suspected anything because, well, he was here.

Even if he was a bit confused by the lack of sets, camera and other film making paraphernalia he certainly did not show it. In fact, he seemed quite confident.

"I was called for an audition here, I believe !" He said as soon as I opened my door.

"Oh you are right" I smiled charmingly, "do come inside". I ushered him in politely.

He walked in and looked around.

"So, who'll be taking my audition ?" He asked.

"We'll think about that later. Firstly meet my daughter, Celia" I called out her name and she came running out of the bedroom gleefully.

Dominique looked uncomfortable.

"Erm hello. You have a pretty daughter" He said and smiled awkwardly.

"Mommy, he no funny" Celia frowned as she stared at him.

"Why Celia ? I thought you wanted him here." I turn towards my daughter.

"I want him be clown" She announced.

"What ?" Dominique looked at me questioningly.

I shrugged at him."I may have to improvise on you" I said.

He stared at me like I was insane."Sorry Miss, but I am getting outta here ! Thanks for wasting my time" He turned to walk out of the door but I had my plan ready.

I grabbed the brass vase from the coffee table and banged it on his head hard.Immediately, he collapsed on the ground. I managed to drag him to the kitchen.

When Dominique woke up three hours later, I am sure he must have felt a bit weird sitting on a dining chair bounded with nylon ropes. Celia and I were there as he gained consciousness. He peered at us groggily, trying to decipher who we were and how did he reach here.

"Clown is awake but he look no clown" Celia pointed out.

"He just needs his makeup on, Celia" I informed her sweetly, " why don't you go and watch TV ? I will make him ready" I smiled.
She nodded and left. I watched her go and then settled my eyes on the young man.

"Where do you think you were going ?" I sneered. He gulped.

I laughed loudly. Grabbing a steak knife from the kitchen counter and approached him. Uncertainty and fear were evident in his eyes.

"Don't fear. Clowns are supposed to be funny." I said before digging the knife at one end of his face and stretching it making a curve on his jaw line. Red blood spilled out on his new smile while he howled wildly, thrashing his bound arms like a dying whale. He was crying like a baby.

I stepped away from him for a moment, to critique my masterpiece. Seems good enough but his incessant tears made me annoyed.

"Oh shut up and get into the character already" I snapped at him and rolled my eyes. Boy, you would think he would come in to an audition with some sort of preparation.

I went out of the kitchen to get my makeup case from the bedroom. On the way, I saw Celia watching cartoons on tv and I smiled at her innocence.

When I returned back, though, Dominique seemed unconscious. His still body was slumped on the chair, blood soozing mouth of his face. I checked his breathing. He was dead.

Nevertheless, I applied a generous amount of rogue on his cheeks and outlined his eyes carefully with dark black liner. His eyelids were painted with gold body paint and his nose was also touched up with my red lipstick. At last, I was satisfied.

"Celia ! Come in here and see your clown honey" I called out.

My little princess came running into the room bubbling with excitement and anticipation but stopped in her tracks when she saw him.

"Wow" she exclaimed in happiness "I love it mommy. I love it !"

Seeing my daughter jumping up and down with joy made me feel blessed and warm all over. I was so proud of her.

I looked at Dominique and the smile that was still etched on his face, long after his soul left his mortal body.