The Voices

Chapter 7

 I woke up to a bell ringing. I sat up in my bed and rubbed my face—I didn't get much sleep last night, but I'd always found it hard to sleep during the day. I slid my legs over the right side of my bed, and stepped onto the cold tile floor. The ringing seemed to be coming from outside my room. I stretched before tip-toeing to the door. The ringing was right outside of my door. I slipped the rusty knife into my sleeve just in case, and slowly pulled the door open. Standing in the doorway was a disheveled man with clown face paint. He tilted his head as soon as he saw that I was looking at him. His smile raised even higher, so high that I could've sworn that the smile was painted on. There was a tiny bell between his thumb and forefinger, and he kept it ringing. We had a stare off before my memory got fuzzy. I remember the way the bell rang in my ears— it was so repetitive, so annoying. I couldn't take it anymore. Both the unblinking, painted face and the obnoxious ringing. I couldn't take it any more, and I lunged at the man, though my size couldn't compare to his. Luckily, I caught him off guard. As soon as I threw myself at him, the ringing from the bell abruptly stopped, however a new ringing in my ears replaced it. 

I found myself in a dark cell. This wasn't my room. I struggled to get up, my hands were bound—no I was in a straight jacket. How could've I mistaken this for only my hands being bound? I didn't know. I just wanted out, so I screamed. For two minutes. It was shortened by the slamming of a door.

"Hehehe!" A...clown? I stared blankly at the small opening in my otherwise dark cell, when two bloodshot eyes appeared and I looked around and I was surrounded by them. If I backed into a corner, the eyes would follow me. They would never leave. I screamed a scream I had never screamed before. I screamed a scream of pure terror.