You can read the first part of the story here…
Paul never told his fears to anyone. As they approached the tent, he could feel the clown’s gaze following him, eyeing his movement. It’s not real. It’s just a picture. Paul told himself.
It was bright as day inside the tent with bright florescent light shining down on them. Inside, Paul was relieved, this isn’t so bad, he thought and scoffed, there’s no clowns, there’s no such thing as clowns.
He followed Marla into the darkened corridor and then his heart started to pound. It felt like a scene out of his nightmare. Marla crossed the rickety bridge and just as he stepped onto the bridge, his nightmare jumped out on the other side of the bridge. Paul shrieked and jumped back.
It took a step onto the bridge toward Paul. He swallowed hard. Go away, he willed but couldn’t find the voice to speak. “Paul?” Marla turned back. “Are you okay?” Paul nodded stiffly. “Then come on.” She held out her hand on the other end of the bridge.
Paul took a few steps back, there’s nothing to be afraid of, that’s not a real clown, just some low-paid actor/actress. You can do this. He told himself and charged across the bridge. As he got to the other side, he heard a loud thud and murmurs and gasps around him. He turned and noticed the clown had fallen over the railing and was lying flat on the ground.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Marla chided and placed two fingers on the side of the clown’s neck. “You’ve killed him!”
Marla grabbed her cell while Paul nervously bit his nails. “Sir, can you hear me?” The clown didn’t respond. She punched in 911 on her cell and was about to press send when the clown jolted upright.
Marla fell back and Paul stopped biting his nails. “Got cha,” The clown laughed and tooted his horn.
Marla’s mouth gaped open and then she stood brushing the dirt off of her jeans and shirt. “That is not funny. No wonder people are scared of you.” She grabbed Paul’s hand and pulled him back across the bridge and wordlessly ran out of the tent.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer
Obviously this is way out of the word limit. I’m just posting it as the conclusion to this week’s challenge. Enjoy.
Very nice story Yingland, but I would like to ask you, if you submit a second story on another time, please keep it to the word limit. Thank you.
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Thank you. I will try to submit within word limit next time. I was trying to wrap the story this time but the more I’ve edited, the word count just went higher. I guess I should’ve just splited it into three parts instead of two, huh.
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Bit of a twist at the end there. I thought he must have thrown the clown over the bridge.
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Nah, the clown was just messing around. 🙂
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A good twist at the end, Yinglan. Like Creatopath, above, i thought Paul had killed the clown – which is probably what you intended us to think! 🙂
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Thank you, I wanted to kill the clown but I didn’t have the heart to make Paul the guilty one, he’s already so scared. 🙂
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I liked your story, It was worth the extra word count. 🙂
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Thank you so much.
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Good conclusion of the story. That was a very mean trick for the clown to play. I’m glad Paul didn’t kill him. 🙂
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Thank you. It was a pretty mean trick, wasn’t it? On the other hand, clowns are meant to play tricks on people.
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