
http://carryontuesday.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post_29.html
It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night,
My instincts yelling, “unplug the phone from the jack.” I however, refused to listen.
“Hello…”
“Sorry. Wrong number.”
Second ring. "Wrong Number."
The third ring; annoyed, screaming into the phone, “What the hell?!”
“Bitch.” Click. Dial tone.
One hour later there was a knocking on the door. It was quiet at first. I stumbled down the stairs, the cat screeched in pain. “Sorry Max.” I reached down to comfort him, he was already gone.
I peeked through the key hole. No one was there. I stood there for a moment. Looked again. No one. Glancing at the clock, it was 2 a.m. Mumbling obscenities to myself, I went into the kitchen in search of something to calm my nerves.
Sitting at the table with a cup of chamomile tea, I crossed my arms and rested my head. Once again, I heard the knocking. The chair rubbed against the wood floor.
I peeked through the key hole. No one was there. I looked at the clock 2:30 a.m. As I shuffled back I continued mumbling to myself, entered the kitchen, and resumed my previous resting position.
Vivid dreams. Phones ringing. Knocks on doors. The sounds in my mind continued in a circle. I was on a merry-go-round at the county fair. Suddenly a seven-foot clown jumped out at me as I opened up the door…
I awoke to the sound of a continuous knocking at my door. My chair tipped over as I thrust it away from the table. I didn’t look in the key hole this time. I swung the door open, yelling, “What the hell do you…” when suddenly a large person dressed in a white clown suit, with a bright red painted smile, huge eyes, and a red ball nose, jumped out, “BITCH!” As a knife entered my stomach and traveled up to my rib cage.

There was no more knocking, no more ringing of phones.
I stand over myself, watching foreigners in blue suits zip me away, like a costume, never to be worn again.
http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i197/jolangston/creepyclowngw2.gif
8 comments:
This is poetry and prose all inone with a quite frightening picture.
Well done
Sweet Hug
thank you Dulce! I just let it roll -- I guess I'm in a dark mood right now...
smiles,
You kept the tension going right up to the end. Excellently done.
Nice one
good grief, the stuff nightmares are made of!
You built this up and up. A truly scary story.
Well done, the mystery and intrigue kept my attention. I was surprised by the ending, didn't see that coming even after reading the dream.
Wow! Did not see that coming!
You have such talent. I'm enjoying your blog very much!
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