The Horror

Although it may not look like it, I am actually a pretty brave individual. Until it comes to clowns. For some reason, the mere sight of a clown sends me into a panic stricken spiral into nightmare land.

Well, I say for some reason, but there is actually a very specific reason. A very sick, twisted, hilarious reason that happened when I was a very young child.

I have ALWAYS loved scary movies, even as a small child. So, it naturally followed that when my mother was watching "It" by Stephen King, I wanted to watch it. Although Stephen King is now my favorite author, a part of me will never forgive him for that movie.

Sick bastard.

Although now this movie isn't really scary at all, to a seven year old little girl it was fairly terrifying. After all, this absolutely awful looking clown does eat kids.

At any rate, I was afraid. My mother was unsympathetic, and simply said "I told you so" and sent me to bed after I kept whining to sleep with her. Apparently, whining infuriates my mother, and after sitting around for a while, decided to seek our  her revenge.

I awoke to a small clown doll at the foot of my bed which I had, previous to tonight of course, been very fond of. It had cymbals in its hands and played circus music while it moved back and forth. Of course, I was completely and utterly terrified, as I had hid this monstrosity on my closet before I attempted to sleep.

I immediately jumped out of bed to run to mommy, and as soon as my feet hit the floor, I felt hands wrapped around my ankles.

So this is how it ends...

After screaming and trying to fight my way out of my attackers grip, I heard laughing. At first I was terrified. I though "Good sweet Lord this thing is going to laugh while it eats me..."

Then I recognized the laughter. It was my dear, sick, twisted mother.

Needless to say, I haven't been a fan of clowns since. Which is why at the ripe age of 20, and in my second haunted house ever, I almost killed someone.

My (now ex, obviously) boyfriend and I went to the bustling town of Branson, MO for a small getaway, and as it was his birthday trip, I agreed to walk through a haunted house with him. I'm not OK with haunted houses on a good day, so I was pretty upset. After specifically asking for NO live actors, we went inside. Little did I know, he had gone back to the front desk and begged for every live actor they had.

After entering and walking about 100 feet in this huge haunted house, I heard banging behind us. I turned around to see a mental institution patient running at me. All I could do was scream "I said NO!!!" like a resistant sorority girl and run. After catching his breath after laughing, Chris caught up with me and tried to calm me down. That wasn't going to happen.

I proceeded to have a panic attack, stuck inside a maze of horror with a man that couldn't stop laughing to save me. After fighting through the first three quarters of that horrible place, I saw a sign that stopped me in my tracks. "You are now entering the hallway of clowns."

AAAAAWWWWW YEEEEEEAAAA

That's right. A full, terrifying hallway of clowns. Terrifying life-size clowns. And, after genius decided he wanted live actors, some of those clowns moved. In a very small hallway. Towards a terrified, pissed off woman.

All I could think to do is yell "IF ANY OF YOU JUMP AT ME I WILL PUNCH YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD" and run. Full out run out of the haunted house. I heard more than one person laughing hysterically behind me, and I'm pretty sure a few clowns broke character.

Needless to say, 'ol Chris and I didn't work out. Anyone who would subject me to murderous painted faces obviously deserves none of my affection.

Until next time, thanks for reading.