Hide and Seek

Hide and Seek

The girl stumbled slowly on her damaged leg, dripping with blood
towards the phone. Finally she reached it after a short time but it
felt like an eternity for her, always watching, watching out for it,
hoping it wouldn't find her. The curtains billowed with the wind like a
beating heart getting slower and slower. She realised that a minute ago
the window wasn't open. Panic hit as if she fell into ice-cold water.
She started to drown in her mind, falling into the bottomless pit of
fear with no hope of ever returning. She looked up with a grimace as
the pain in her leg felt like small red-hot needles. She reached for
the phone. As she touched it a shadow fell over her but she persevered
and lifted it up, quickly she held it to her ear but there was no tone,
her hand dropped it when she realised. She brought her hand up to her
face and saw something red. It was blood. Whose blood? Hers, or some
other persons? Time would only tell. Slowly she backed into the corner,
her mind blank, knowing it was the end.
The credits rolled and then there was darkness within the theatre.
People left quickly and quietly clambering over the sticky popcorn
covered chairs, the legacy of the previous occupants. Sandra was glad
the film was over, it had given her a bit of a fright the way it had
ended. As she emerged from the tomb of what was called the Grand Plaza
Cinema she felt the slightly warm breeze brush against her face. She
smelt the salt from the Harbour and the baking of pasties at the bakery
next door. Claire brought her from her dreamlike state by grabbing hold
of her shoulder rather like the killer had done in the film. For a
minute she felt herself slip into the poor girl's shoes but remembers,
it was just a film, nothing to be scared about.
It was the weekly shopping trip for Sandra, Claire and Emma, to the
local town, and then they went to the Cinema to catch the latest flick.
Sandgrains was the usual seaside town; it had a beach with donkeys
racing up and down, the occasional Punch and Judy show and every 50
yards there was an ice-cream man. On the way to the bus station the
group always passed a little Curio shop hidden down a dingy alley. They
had discovered it by accident and every week made a religious
pilgrimage back to it. They felt drawn towards it for unknown reasons.
Sandra actually hated going there but something seemed to force her
down the little back street out of the worlds view. Emma and Claire
loved it to bits and they always bought something that they didn't
need. Sandra loathed it because of the puppets and clowns displayed in
the window, they seemed to watch her every move with their staring
black holes that an artist somewhere called eyes.
This time Claire and Emma purchased a little clown with crosses for
eyes and its ginger hair was falling out. Its costume was a harlequin
type with blue and pink diamonds. One of its wooden hands had
disappeared and so had both feet. Sandra was repulsed by it and on the
bus back to Schalton she sat with her back to it while Claire and Emma
giggled and laughed at its supposedly comical look and attire. Sandra's
father was a carpenter and she was dreading the question that Emma
would ask as they left the bus. She tried to hurry off but they caught
up with her and said ' Ask your dad for the usual for us, please?'
Sandra took it slowly and then stuffed it in her bag full of the days
shopping results.
The house smelt of sweet things like cakes and flowers. This only
happened when mum was at home. When dad was home alone it was a no-go
area. 'Hi love, did you have a nice day in town?' said Liz. Liz hated
being called mum; she said it made her feel old and worthless. 'It was
okay; Emma and Claire bought another clown. Do you think dad could fix
it quickly cos I hate the look of it!'
'Just leave it on the side and I'll give it to him, ok honey'. Sandra
dashed upstairs to her haven on the top floor. As she entered the blue
door, the phone rang so she reached slowly towards it feeling trapped
inside the movie again. Her mum broke the spell by shouting 'PHONE!' up
the stairs sounding like a foghorn on a foggy night. She picked up the
Mickey Mouse receiver and said 'Hello, Who is it? Hello, anyone there?'
All she could hear was shallow breathing at the other end. She was
about to put the phone down when she heard a familiar giggle and then
torrents of laughter, it was Emma. Sandra slammed the phone down in a
fit of rage. 'Who was it dear?' her dad asked from the garage. 'Nobody'
she tried to reach her bedroom and the phone rang again. This time she
didn't greedily grab at it but let it ring a bit and then picked it up.
This time Emma didn't laugh but said 'How are you?' although she
couldn't keep in the giggle locked up inside. 'Haha, very funny' said
Sandra. 'Oh I'm sorry, I was wondering if you'd like to keep the clown,
you know as a present?' asked Emma with a hint of geninue kindness.
Sandra thought about the creature they called a clown and then how her
friend's feelings would be hurt if she said no. So she said 'Yes' and
Emma and Claire whooped down the phone. 'Bye' she whispered and hung
up. Sandra thundered downstairs and picked the clown off the side and
shouted 'I left something at the cinema, I'm gonna see if its still
there, bye'. Nobody heard. Oh well it wasn't as though something was
going to happen to her as this the 21st Century. No witches and demons
lurk behind trees and look from around corners of cars.
She caught the bus into town and got off a little before the Curio Shop
so she could admire the dresses in the windows of the posh shops,
another no-go area. Soon she came upon the alley and peered into the
dank gloominess surrounding it. Something felt out of place. She felt a
shiver run down her spine like someone walked over her grave. She
looked behind her dreading the witches and wolves of stories to leap
out at her but instead she felt a slight breeze and realised she was
getting paranoid about nothing. Sandra took a deep breath, feeling it
run down into her pit of fear and then out again dispelling all
tension. Again she peered into the pitch black and leaned forward. She
saw what was wrong there wasn't anything there except a cat and skip
overflowing with decaying rubbish and rats. She walked backwards,
looked at the street names. It was the right place.
From within she heard a chuckle and scraping along the wall. The
chuckle sounded again deeper and scarier than before. Her bag felt
lighter, she looked inside. It had gone! Looking around she saw it had
fallen out. Quickly she stuffed it back in her bag but before she did
Sandra looked into things eyes and wondered why she was so scared of
it. She thought she'd check the alley again. One foot entered and then
the other. Slowly but surely she made her way in the dark, feeling
along the slimy walls. She didn't care how messed up she would become
as long as the clown was gone.
Soon she felt out a door. She slid her hand down to find the handle.
She grasped hold of it and turned, not expecting it to open, it did.
The door creaked as she pushed it, she gasped. Nothing was there but
the gasp was by reflex as the dust rose up and hit her full on.
She was in the shop, her soul rejoiced. At last she could get rid of it
forever. She dumped it on the shelf and ran. Ran as if the gates of
hell were about to open and let the hounds out to play. Sandra made to
the bus stop just in time to catch the last bus. She paid her fare and
clambered aboard. She stood there staring into space. When a gnarled
hand gripped her shoulder, it looked decayed and purple with brown
spots oozing with pus. Sandra turned round suddenly. Nothing was there
except a smell, a smell like death, a deep, rich earthy smell. She
nearly missed her stop when an old lady pushed into her saying 'Young
people today', the old decrepit woman muttered and swore. Sandra strode
off the bus onto the pavement littered with leaves and toys left by the
neighbourhood's kids as though there had been a terrible accident and
she was the only one left.
She entered the house sensing something was wrong. It was too quiet, no
humming from Liz in the kitchen or sawing in the garage. All signs of
life had gone but one, the light in the downstairs bathroom was on!
This was strange as no one used it any more after dad flushed several
dead goldfish down it. It was a sort of last resting place for various
pets. She went in to switch the light off but didn't open the door, as
she reached for the switch something ran past her, brushing slightly
against her leg into the dimness of the hall. Sandra pushed the fear
back down into her stomach hoping it wouldn't fester. Again she reached
for the light and without touching the switch the light went off.
Sandra went to flick it on again, it didn't work. She tried again to no
avail. The darkness in the house seemed to hug her every curve and
passing cars threw distorted shadows against the walls of the front
room.
A scraping sound came from the kitchen like a knife being dragged
across the worktops. Sandra said to herself stop being paranoid, it's
probably the cat messing about, but she was still afraid to enter the
foreboding looking kitchen. So she went upstairs to her safe haven, her
Mecca. The lights came back on as she entered her room. The light was
supposed to be safe so what she saw was not prepared for, there on her
bed was dad and Liz trussed up like some turkey at Christmas dinner.
Sandra turned her back on the sight and threw up in the waste paper
bin. She wiped the glistening bile from her lips and screamed. Dad's
eyes opened and bulged looking at something behind her and tried to
warn her but his gag silenced him. Sandra heard a chuckle like the one
in the alley downtown. This time it was creepily playful, like this was
a game. She walked towards dad and Liz and untied them. Liz was gone
already from blood loss from the stab wounds on her back; her fingers
were still covered in cookie dough. She heard a creak and so she ran
towards the door and slammed it as hard as she could. The landing light
was switched on and they both could see the shadows of feet, small
childlike feet. Rather like the feet of a toy clown. It spoke, its
voice like the one in nightmares, the rustle of leaves on an empty
road, the scraping of a tree against the window. 'Round and Round the
garden, like a scary clown. One step. Two Step. Stab you
anywhere!'.
'Escape, while you can, I'll hold it off while you get help', whispered
her dad, 'I love you'. Sandra knew she had to leave but where to? The
neighbours&;#8230; or were they goners already? She climbed out of
the window onto porch roof, she looked behind her dad was wearing a
manic grin on his face, singing 'We are the Champions'. As she
clambered down to the path, she covered her ears from the screams and
the last words and breaths her dad gave. She ran up the street to
Emma's house. Sandra waited and then knocked on the door. Thoughts ran
through her head like a steam train on drugs. Nobody answered. She
knocked again and then hammered. The door opened slightly. 'Hello,
hello it's Sandra!' .She entered slowly at first but picking up
confidence as she progressed from the door to the stairs. 'Hello',
nobody answered. She heard the chuckle again, it seemed to echo around
the empty house and get louder and louder, it entered her head and
confused her, Sandra ran into a large plant and screamed as the barbs
scratched her faces. It was quiet once more, too quiet. She heard a
humming in the kitchen rather like Liz. Cautiously Sandra crept towards
the door and pushed it opened. Her hand into the depths, and grabbed
the light switch, it didn't work. She pushed the door opened even more
and took a deep breath and entered. The light came on, and showed her
the clown wasn't there or was he, was he hiding in one of many
cupboards, in between the saucers and cups. 'Get a hold on yourself'
her brain screamed 'Get a grip of reality'. She switched the light off
and scuttled out quickly onto the street knocking over several clown
ornaments on her way without regret.
It was playing a game with her, following but never seen, hiding in
plant pots and behind trees and then suddenly leaping out. She knew it
had a knife and it had already killed several people already. She saw
the bus arrive at the stop and ran, for her life depended on it. She
was too late, it hadn't even stopped. Still she ran, her legs aching,
they felt like lead weights getting heavier and heavier, dragging her
down. The bus stopped suddenly, the doors opened. A thin trickle of
blood ran through the double doors and onto the pavement. She stood
transfixed for a second, nothing made sense, where was everyone, were
they hiding. Her grip on reality snapped, her mind broke from the bonds
that reality provided. Again she heard the chuckle, it got louder and
louder deafening even her own thoughts, and she laughed not a happy
laugh. A laugh you only hear on certain wards of a hospital, it mingled
with the chuckle till they became one with each other. She yelled into
the night air
'1,2,3, ready or not, I'm gonna to get you'. Nobody heard, nobody
answered. Again she ran but not really caring where she was going, here
and there, not a care in the world till she stopped outside of her
house and remembered. Remembered that her friends were gone and so were
her parents. She broke down and wept.
A leaf rustled behind and she heard footsteps, tiny footstep, like a
clowns. Out of the corner of her eye something metal glistened, she
gasped trying to scream but she just sucked air as if she was in space
where no one heard you scream. She retreated inside her head, hiding in
her memories, replaying them one by one, remembering all the games she
played. She saw the clown in here mind, it was slashing something,
something soft with muscles and bones, and it was her leg. Slowly the
pain reached into the depths of her mind and woke her. In her hand was
the kitchen knife, dripping with several people's blood including her
own. She heard sirens and walkie-talkies blaring in the distance.
Somebody grabbed her arm, and asked 'Are you all right love?' but it
didn't register, Sandra had gone to the depths where many don't return
from, the depths of insanity. In her mind all she saw was clowns, so
many clowns, all around her, grabbing her clothes all brandishing
knifes, kitchen knifes.
Overhead people talked. What they talked about was unknown, only
fragments drifted slowly down to her inner self. Something about
murder, a girl named Sandra like herself, who did it. She laughed and
entered her nightmare.
Sandra stumbled slowly on her damaged leg, dripping with blood towards
the phone. Finally she reached it in a couple of seconds but it felt
like an eternity for her, always watching, watching out for it, hoping
it wouldn't find her. The curtains billowed with the wind like a
beating heart getting slower and slower. She realised that a minute ago
the window wasn't open. Panic hit as if she fell into ice-cold water,
she started to drown in her mind, falling into the bottomless pit of
fear with no hope of ever returning. She looked up with a grimace as
the pain in her leg felt like small red-hot needles. Sandra reached for
the phone, as she touched it a shadow fell over her but she persevered
and lifted it up, quickly she held it to her ear but there was no tone,
her hand dropped it with her realising. She brought her hand up to her
face and saw something red, it was blood, whose blood, hers or some
other persons, time would only tell. Slowly she backed into the corner
her mind blank, knowing it was the end.