Story #1

When I walked into the house, all I could feel was everyone’s eyes on me.  They were all staring at me as I just stood there.  No one moved, no one said anything.  It was just quiet.  Eventually, I started walking towards the center of the living room.  Everyone then started to whisper, creating their rumors on what they thought had happened.  Some started crying, panicking, screaming in fear, and even fainted.  I was confused.  I didn’t know why they were all acting like this.  It’s like they have never seen anyone covered in blood before.

A few hours before…

It was a Tuesday afternoon.  The sun was out, the birds were chirping, and I was having a wonderful day.  I spent the whole day out doing some shopping.  I was doing everything normally how I usually do it when I go out for the day; I leave early in the morning, get some breakfast and head out to the stores.  It wasn’t until the drive home that everything changed.  It was going as it also goes, I was driving the speed limit and listening to music blasting in my speakers.  Until suddenly, the sun stopped shining and it started to rain.  It was a rainstorm, a downpour.  It wasn’t the sound of rain I would describe as nature’s song, or a peaceful rain to fall asleep to.  No, this rain was the worst I have ever seen, let alone had to drive in.  It was too late by the time I was able to notice.  I couldn’t see.  I couldn’t see him walking.  I had hit the man.  He was once a man minding his business walking across the street.  Then he became a man who was hit by a car.  Once I could, I pulled over and quickly ran out of the car to see the man laying almost lifeless on the road, covered in his blood from the impact.  I was scared.  How could this happen? Why did this happen?  That’s what I asked myself as I stood there watching him slowly die.  I couldn’t handle it any more.  I acted on impulse and out of fear and ran to the man.  I didn’t try to help save him.  I dragged him to the woods and left him there.  I got back in the car and headed home.  I was all wet, covered in dirt. And covered in the man’s blood.  I just wanted to go home and forget what happened.  

Story #2

Have you ever had a dream that you wished you could make a reality?  Maybe as a kid you wanted to be a dragon, or a mermaid.  Maybe you wanted to be a soldier, or the richest person in the world.  But you were told that dreams are just that, dreams.  They are just part of our imaginations.  I was always told, “you can dream it, but you can’t do it, you can’t be it.”  As a kid I felt more betrayed by knowing my dreams wouldn’t come true than I was when I was told that Santa wasn’t real.  I always had my suspicions about Santa, but I wouldn’t stop believing anyone when they say dreams don’t come true.  Because one day, I knew I would prove everyone wrong.  

As a kid I always wanted to have supernatural powers.  To be more specific, I wanted to be a witch.  I also dreamt about being able to do all types of spells, and being able to use my abilities to both help people and play tricks on people.  I knew this would never happen so eventually as I got older I gave up my dream of being a witch.  Until one day, now as an adult, I’m sitting in my living room one day watching tv when I come across a show about supernatural beings, and being one are witches.  I couldn’t believe it.  I  had a smile on my face and went back to thinking about my childhood dream of being one.  I went to bed that night having my first dream in 10 years about being a witch with powers.  It was amazing to be able to relive my childhood again.  All I do these days is adult things.  I never have time anymore to just relax and have fun.  My life is boring now so having this dream again was everything to make me happy again.  

The next morning, I woke up to an unexpected surprise.  I was a witch! How did this happen?  My dream finally came true.  I was so excited to test out all my powers and abilities.  When I woke up, I was able to teleport into the bathroom by just announcing it outloud.  That was pretty cool!  What else can I do? I spent all day testing it out.  I can teleport, turn invisible, read peoples minds, and move things with my mind and hands.  This was amazing.  My childhood is finally complete.  I knew I would be able to prove everyone wrong.  I just had to believe in myself and not let anyone tell me otherwise.  I really enjoyed it, it was so fun.  Until it wasn’t so fun anymore.

Story #3

Being a clown is so exhausting.  You would think that it would be so easy to do what I do because everyone likes clowns right? They are there to be the entertainment at carnival, a circus and birthday parties.  It is never a piece of cake.  It is more frustrating than anything.  Yes, of course I have fun doing what I do, especially when I get to see the smiles on the children’s faces and when I get to hear their laughter from the crowd.  It is so rewarding to know that I can make someone else’s day better than it was already.  At the end of the day I’m exhausted and drained from my energy.  All my energy goes into making sure I can put on a good performance.  I do not need any angry parents coming to me and screaming saying I ruined their child’s birthday, that is something no one wants to hear.  That would make me sad.  But, it is so frustrating to me having to make sure everything is perfect and I do a great job, or else I will be fired, and I need this job because it pays me well.  Without this job I will be a nobody.  My parents were both clowns for their entire lives before they retired.  I need to carry the legacy for them.

But, I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.  Being a clown is starting to destroy my life and making me go insane!  There is only so much laughter out there for me to do.  It’s starting to become fake!  No kid wants to hear a clown fake laugh at them.  All these balloon animals are driving me crazy.  So many children will yell at you for making the wrong animal, or not making it correctly, and then that will get their parents yelling at me because I had upset their kids.  And don’t even get me started on face painting!  “I WANT A TIGER! PAINT ME A TIGER!” screams a child.  What clown took art classes?  Certainly not me.  I can paint to my best ability but it is nothing spectacular, but to me my face paintings look great on the children.  Well, apparently they don’t look great to some of the children.  Some kids are appreciative, while some will tell you to your face how ugly it looks and how terrible it is.  And then they will go to the bathroom and wash it off.  That can hurt a clown’s feelings.