Des Choses par Moi // Things by me

The Clown

I remember this place as if it was yesterday, I used to go to this place with my mother when I was around seven years old, I remember all the details, it's crazy to remember such a place while It was closed nineteen years ago due to an accident.

I remember my childhood village where the circus came a week in a month, I remember the abandoned area that we went through to get to the circus as the sunset bathed in light, I remember the small dark alley that we took when we saw the thousand colored balloons strolling on a leash, dragged by clowns wearing a thousands and one colors. I also remember that great alley where we often passed, the one that smelled spices and caramel, where all the cultures seemed to live in harmony, there was also this pastel clown who seemed to take the same path as us each time.

But that's not all, I remember the parking where the wind blowed tornadoes of sand, I remember this little orphan who wept her bursted dog shaped balloon, I remember this frightening festive shape of marquee shining with a thousand lights at dusk as well as the strange pastel shadow that seemed to move away from his body, I also remember the disturbed look of my mother who often turned around as if she knew something, I remember of the interior of the marquee with all these magnificent acrobats and these incredible trainers without forgetting these colorful comedians.

I remember my first meeting with Grustny the pastel clown, I remember when he stared at me during the shows, how he looked away when I noticed him, how his cat eyes seemed to shine despite the makeup, how his smile was sharp , How his red make-up seemed more than real... I remember hearing people saying that Grustny was not from here, that he was a stranger, I remember his voice a bit hoarse and distorted by his strange accent, I remember having chills the first time I saw him, mom had chill too. I also remember the shouthings of people on Grustny that remained of marble.

I remember the long auburn hair of my mother, I remember her beautiful hair stained with a brighter red, I remember the big splash that there was, I remember the panicked cries of the people whose faces strangely distorted, I remember the strange sensation that I felt at that moment, I remember seeing him for the last time that day, I remember his dripping tears, dragging with them his Makeup bland, I remember seeing him die in agony, mouth sewn, I remember his death.

I didn't know if I had to give him my hand at that time, I didn't know if I had to be afraid or laugh, I didn't know why he seemed to follow us, I didn't know why he was bland, I didn't know why my mother was wary, I didn't know why he had that big smile full of fangs, I didn't know why I saw him die, I didn't know why I didn't feel anything, I don't know why I came to the place of the accident last night .... But now I know.

It was at the sight this shabby room that I knew why, it was at the sight of this dark room that I knew why, it was at the sight of this corpse with auburn hair that I knew why, it was at the sight of the red squirts on The walls I knew why. It was by feeling my hands tied that I knew why he was staring at me, it was by feeling a drizzle of liquid dripping over me that I knew why his smile scared me, it was at the sight of various sharp objects that I knew why The orphan was crying, it was at the sight of red puddles that I knew why his make-up was strange, it was at the sight of deformed dolls that I knew why he was following me, it was at the sight of a doll resembling me that I Knew why my mother was suspicious, it was at the sigh of a skeleton with the sewn mouth that I knew why he held out his hand to me while he was agonizing, it was on hearing his laugh behind me that I knew that it was not him who jumped that day.

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hey! So I totally don't know if its well translated but here is the third short story be me!!

Enjoy!

ItsMyKookie~