31 Frights of October

The Final Act

Water dripped from Clementine's face, streaked with the smeared rainbow of her makeup. The students' laughter rose like a tidal wave around her, cruel and unrelenting. Fingers pointed as she sat frozen, tears threatening to mix with the colors already staining her hands—red, black, blue—all the shades of her clownish disguise running together in a chaotic swirl.

She'd always been different, always drawn to the world of clowns, a fascination that other kids found weird. Ever since she saw a circus on TV, she'd been captivated. She painted her face like them, wore puffy skirts, practiced juggling and balancing on inflatable balls in her free time. Her classmates didn't understand, and they never would.

"Looks like the clown finally did something funny!" one boy howled, his face turning red from laughter, tears glinting in his eyes. The sight of his amusement only fueled the growing storm inside her. The rhythmic drip of water from her hair felt like a drumbeat in her chest, in sync with her racing heartbeat, each drop deepening her anger.

She glared through her soppy red bangs, her gaze cutting through the haze of mockery. Her eyes burned with a mix of hurt and fury. Clementine had been teased for as long as she could remember, but no one was going to strip away her dream—not today, not ever. She knew what she wanted: to be a clown, and not even the cruelty of these kids would take that from her.

Her fists clenched at her sides, knuckles whitening as she took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand tall. The lunch tray lay abandoned on the table behind her, the sandwich floating in a puddle of diluted face paint, but Clementine didn't care. She had no use for their small, petty world anymore.

Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed out, her bag slung over her shoulder. Each step toward the bathroom felt heavy, but she kept her chin up. They could laugh all they wanted, but she would never let them break her. She was more than a punchline—she was the show.

In the girls' bathroom, Clementine scrubbed her face with her best makeup wipes, each swipe familiar from countless encounters like this. It was routine now—every week, the same humiliation, the same need to start over. She wondered when they'd realize something important: clowns need more than one gag.

She worked swiftly, her brush gliding across her skin as if it were second nature. Red hearts bloomed around her eyes, a bolder look than before—this time inspired by the Queen of Hearts. The white base added contrast, and a few blue accents made the design pop. They'd given her a clean slate, and she wasn't about to waste it.

Stepping back, Clementine admired her reflection, scrunching her damp red hair. She thought about redoing it but decided she'd already spent enough time curling it this morning. Instead, she gelled her bangs into the shape of a heart and took one final look. Perfect.

As she turned to leave, a group of girls pushed through the door, stopping at the exit just as she reached it. Clementine tensed, crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping they'd let her pass without incident. The girl in front smiled, her lips curling into a grin that didn't reach her eyes.

"Your makeup looks so cute!" she said, her voice dripping with mockery.

Clementine forced a smile, her heart thudding in her chest. "Oh, uh—thanks," she muttered, sidestepping them.

The girls moved to the mirrors, snickering as she passed. Once she was outside, she heard them burst into giggles. Her smile faded, her gaze hardening as she clenched her fists. Of course.

Whatever, she wasn't going to let anyone control her with their words. She had something to look forward to tonight, something bigger than their small minds. Shaking off the sting of their mockery, she lifted her chin and strode confidently down the hallway. Eyes followed her, but they always did. Let them stare. She was more than what they saw, and soon enough, the world would see it too.