I hopped into Sarah's car. She had a black 1989 Camaro. My dad loves to spoil her. I doubt that when I get my license I'll get a car as nice as hers. She started the vehicle, causing it roar loudly.

It purred as she drove down the street. It was empty, as usual. This area has been quiet in the past few years, many families moved out after reading the headlines about me. It's not like I was dangerous.

Sarah drove downtown, where the theater was located. The theatre was called the Petite Chateaux, or the Little Mansion. It was a nice place.

As we pulled into the area, posters of Slappy and his ventriloquist were plastered all around the theater. It was him. It really, really was him. That devilish grin, flame-like red hair, smoldering green eyes, all dressed up with nowhere to go but hell. I sneered at his picture.

Sarah parked her car in the lot next door. It was pretty packed. I guess this show was pretty popular with the kids. I can't imagine why.

"Hey," Sarah said. "We can do this."

"Speak for yourself, sis," I groaned. It felt like he was watching me. Every time I passed the posters, it felt like his eyes were following me.

Sarah and I entered the theater. Lovely hibiscus plants were plastered on every corner and red chairs sat firmly in the lobby. The theater was beautifully painted, a dark red with streaks of gold. It was a nice environment. We handed the clerk our tickets and wandered into the amphitheater. Kids of all ages crowded the seats. Sarah and I grabbed a seat somewhere in the middle.

I could feel my skin tingle. I didn't like this.

The lights dimmed and the speakers began to emit an excited voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, please put your hands together and welcome Jimmy O'James and his little pal, Slappy!"

The children clapped as the curtains separated. Standing in the spotlight was a tall, dark haired man holding him. The two were in matching suits. Jimmy, the ventriloquist, had his hair curled to match his dummy.

Slappy was snoring. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head, as if he wasn't creepy enough.

"Slappy? Hey, Slappy, we're on!" Jimmy shook him. Jimmy had a comforting voice. He was an older gentleman, probably in his mid 40's or early 50's.

"Huh? Oh! Jimmy, why didn't you say anything? I was having a wonderful dream!"

"Oh? What was it about?"

"Well, you were in it!"

"Is that why it was wonderful?"

"No, it was because you were hit by a truck!" Slappy exclaimed, his voice as raspy and nasally as ever. He cackled, and the children joined him.

"That's not very nice, Slappy! I assumed we were friends."

Yeah, I feel you there, Jimmy. I thought to myself.

"Well, you know what they say about assuming."

"Don't say it, Slappy, there are children in the audience!"

"What? I was just gonna say that people who assume are idiots," Slappy laughed in Jimmy's face. "Because if you think we're friends, then you must REALLY be the dummy!"

The show went on for several more minutes. It was mostly Slappy and Jimmy bickering. It was amusing, but I felt so unhappy. This was real. My nightmare is only a few feet away from me.

Slappy was scanning the audience periodically. His big eyes peered through the crowd throughout the entirety of the show. I'm not sure why, but it was pretty creepy. He stopped… he spotted me in the crowd.

His eyes fixated on me. I cowered into Sarah. Sarah noticed his eyes glaring at me and gasped.

Jimmy had been calling to Slappy, but he was concentrating on Sarah and I. He eventually noticed Jimmy's beck and responded with a cackle.

"Slappy, the show's almost over, and we still haven't done a joke with a member in the audience! Well, kids, who wants to be our guest tonight?" Jimmy declared. Many children shot their hands up.

"Actually, Jimmy," Slappy started. I knew what he was going to do. "Can I pick someone this time?"

"Well," Jimmy said. He took a sip of water. "Sure, Slappy. Go ahead."

Slappy's eyes were fixated on me again.

"The lovely young lady in the middle of the crowd. The one with the shoulder-length brown hair… Amy Kramer."

I started to breathe heavily. I began panting. Sarah grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye. She gave me the "go up there" motion. I didn't want to.

"Amy Kramer? You there? Come on up!" Jimmy shouted.

Sarah lifted me up from my seat and gave me a little push. I staggered out of the crowd and into the walkway. I slowly inched my way to the stage.

"Come on, Amy. What are you waiting for?" Slappy sneered. He chuckled to himself.

I hopped up on to the platform. I tried to stay away from the wicked dummy and stood next to Jimmy. I was sweating bullets, and the spotlight wasn't helping.

"So, Amy, tell us a little about yourself?" Jimmy said. He smiled happily at me. I wonder if he knew about Slappy's evil.

"I… uh," I began, grasping at my shirt in terror. Slappy gazed at me, his thick eyebrows planted angrily on his face.

"Amy used to my sl-partner!" Slappy exclaimed. The audience ooh'd and ahh'd.

"Is that right, Amy?" Jimmy asked.

"Uh, yes," I replied.

"She was the dummy, I was the ventriloquist. Amy, my dear, you still look like a dummy to me!" Slappy cried out. The audience laughed. "How's your mother? Still the size of a hot air balloon? And your dad? Bald and boring?"

I couldn't breathe. I felt everyone's eyes staring at me, laughing like crazy. I felt sick and uneasy. I closed my eyes and collapsed onto the floor.

"Looks like you still have stage fright, Amy," Slappy giggled. I blacked out.