Coulrophobia

Origionally by D

Editied by N

Options, title, & ending by N.

 

“Do you want to play,” my little cousin shouted.  I could already tell that this would be a long babysitting job.  The only good news was that my aunt was paying me some money. 

Before my aunt left, she said something somewhat weird “Jane’s got an imaginary friend named Mr. Fuzzles.  He is a clown and she said he only shows himself to people he wants to see. Crazy, huh? All you have to do is play along and you’ll be fine.”  I was waiting for Mr. Fuzzles to come up in our discussions and when it did, I was not ready. 

We had just finished our lunch when my cousin yelled, “I’m going to go play with Mr. Fuzzles.”  She sprinted out of her chair to go upstairs and play.  Five minutes later, my cousin ran down stairs crying, “Mr. Fuzzles got angry at me and he wants to hurt both of us.”  I got somewhat scared at that, and then I heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. I then heard a sound that I never want to here again; it was a laugh, more specifically a clown laugh.  I walked up stairs to make sure that everything is okay but my cousin clung to me “don’t go up there, Mr. Fuzzles will hurt you, please don’t go,” She cried. I still went upstairs to check on everything and to reassure myself there is no Mr. Fuzzles.  I got to the room and started make funny poses and closing my eyes in a mirror, but when I opened them I saw exactly what I was dreading.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a clown looking at me in the mirror.  I bolted out of the room, ran down stairs, and screamed for my cousin to follow me out the door.  We both sat huddled next to a tree, looked towards the house and I saw in the window Mr. Fuzzles face smiling back.  I had just pulled out my cell phone to call 911 when my aunt called, “make sure you 2 get out of the house.  Mr. Fuzzles is real the police called to tell me that he is an escaped mental patient, he is a cannibal and likes to eat children.”

In a few minutes, 2 police officers come and storm through the house.  Shots are fired and I hear an evil laugh.  One sprints out the door screaming in his radio “10-71 officer down, I repeat officer down.  Suspect is armed and firing.  Code 11, S.W.A.T. is needed, I repeat Swat is needed.”   After 5 minutes of fear, the S.W.A.T. team arrives.  Many shots are fired, but Mr. Fuzzles emerges handcuffed.

“When I escape again ill come for you and I’ll slit your jugular and watch the blood pour out” Mr. Fuzzles yelled. Jane screamed, and I covered my ears. "No no no. No."I repeated, closing my eyes to block out the violent images of Mr. Fuzzles trying to kick the officers in their groins. "No this isn't happening."

 

This all happened 3 years ago. Jane's earsplitting scream fills my ears every time I'm alone. Every time I'm in the dark I see Mr. Fuzzles face grinning out at me from the window. I'm terrified of clowns, and refuse to babysit anyone. Jane goes to a therapist to help her with her problems. My family and friends have grown apart from me, I have too many irrational fears. Especially Coulrophobia. The fear of clowns.

  

They say I'm crazy. That I have to get over this.

But I have just read a cannibalistic serial killer escaped from the local insane asylum.

 

His name is Mr. Fuzzles.