Clownin' Around

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You drifted in and out of sleep for the better part of the time Jack was gone. You were emotionally drained, and though you didn't feel safe, it was the only thing you could do now that you were completely alone.

God, I wish I knew how to read braille.

You contemplated groupings of bumps, wondered if blind people could find messages from God in rashes and mosquito bites, and ran your fingers over your own acne and eczema until you heard a pitchy, grating laugh from behind the door. You raised yourself as much as you could – the pain was immense, even though you didn't want to admit it – and stared, wide-eyed, at the door. It was closed and, as far as you remembered, locked, so you felt marginally safe until you remembered that it locked from the outside.

God damnit. And that's not Jack's laugh, I know that well enough... who could that be? And why would Jack let them –

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key in a lock and the knob beginning to turn. You tensed, almost certain that you'd be dead in a few moments.

I mean, I know I said I wanted to die, but I wanted to be in control of it, at least as much as I can be.

But that's where you had yourself fooled.

The door opened onto the most horrendous sight you'd seen since the slaughter of your parents, and it was only so bad because it was the same clown. The other Jack had a shit-eating grin on his face like he could feel your seething hatred and fear of him, and he seemed like he loved it more than anything.

Now that he wasn't surrounded by blood and the mutilated corpses of your mother and father, he seemed almost normal – like you'd be able to look past the real ear-to-ear smile and grotesquely lanky arms and sharpish, yellowed teeth and maybe watch a performance or two.

"Hey, doll, you're just the person I wanted to see!"

His voice was like a gear that had gone unoiled for the better part of fourteen years. He was happy, as far as you could tell, and coy – he wanted something from you.

You didn't speak, and you didn't move. It was a in your best interest to do so anyway, you figured.

Jack must have thought so too, because his grin didn't falter as he spoke again.

"Sweetie, I know you don't like old Jackie very much, but you've gotta compromise, here! This is the chance of a lifetime!"

He entered the room then, and you shrank under his gaze. Everything about him terrified you – the confident saunter, the grin that had somehow gotten even larger, the unblinking stare – you didn't know what his intentions were, but you knew it was best t just listen to him. You spoke meekly.

"...What do you want?"

Jack tilted his head to the side like a dog when they hear a strange noise. You swore you could hear his neck creak as he did so.

"She speaks!" He laughed out loud.

I regret ever thinking Jack's voice was bad.

"Jack owes me a favor. He's chosen not to acknowledge it, but I know he knows." The clown's cheery demeanor darkened, his smile dropped, and you felt the temperature in the room plummet.

He walked slowly toward you and bent down, to the point where his knuckles were brushing against the floor, to look you in the eyes. His nose was nearly poking your cheek. You curled a leg up to try and keep him from getting too close, but he moved around it. You were just thankful he wasn't touching you.

Your voice dropped to a whisper. "What...what do you want me to do about it?"

He grinned again, though it was a bit more subdued this time.

"You're going to help me convince him, dolly."

Jack's breath smelled like sugar, rotten eggs, and something metallic. You cringed and tried to turn away, at least a bit, but Jack pushed your face back to his with one clawed finger and leaned in closer.

"Okay?"

His tone did not sound like you were meant to disagree. You nodded your head slowly, and Jack snapped his body up and away from you. He had a full grin again, and you swore you hadn't seen him blink the entire time he had been in the room.

He turned his head toward the door and whispered to you. "Don't you think about telling him anything, sweetie, this is our little secret."

You leaned up onto your elbows again as you heard the clang of the door opening.

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