Ciaran Sontag 04-15-03
It NevEr eNDs
The clown painting sat on the chair and stared back at us. We had either just gotten it or had it for as long as we lived here.
"That thing is disturbing," Pat shook his head as he said it." Anyway, where'd you get it?"
"Who knows?" I didn't know where it had come from or why it was there.
We heard the storm build up as lightning flashed and thunder blared. The dreary basement smelled of mildew and water dripped through the crack in the storm door.
I sat down and asked, "What time is it?" My question pointed at whomever could answer it.
"Half past six," Pat replied. He stood up and headed for the stairs. "Let's go get something to eat."
Just as he exited the room we heard the boom of thunder and the lights started to flicker. We heard a shatter and a loud cackling noise from above. Then the lights went back to normal and we saw what had happened.
There, hovering above us was the shattered clown picture. The cackling continued and started to grow deafening. Then we heard a loud pounding on the storm door.
"Clang!" We walked past the clown picture and it turned to face us. "CLANG!" It got louder as we made our way to the storm door. "CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!" We held our hands to our ears as the pounding got louder and faster and then I reached out and turned the handle of the door and locked it.
We heard the scratching of our dogs paws against the kitchen tiles and realized the only thing holding the kitchen away from the outside world was a flimsy screen door! Daisy started barking and growling at something outside at the back door. The barking continued until it was earsplitting and then a "YELP!" and then there was only silence.
We raced upstairs to see Daisy looking at us with evil eyes and growling at us. She had a porcelain clown mask around her neck held by a ribbon. I grabbed at it to try and take it off but she snapped at me in defense.
We walked into the kitchen and Daisy growled at us louder. Her teeth looked sharper than anything I had ever seen before.
She now zeroed in on Pat. She backed him against the refrigerator and he reached over and grabbed a knife off the counter.
In fear of what could've happened here I dove across the room and tackled Daisy. She fell upon the mask and it shattered. Then, all of a sudden, all the anger and hatred in Daisy's eyes were gone.
We still had one more thing to worry about, though, the clown painting. We ran downstairs and saw that the painting had disappeared. In its place lay a puddle of bright red blood and written in the pool of blood were the words: "It NevEr eNDs" Then, with one last roll of thunder, the storm was over.
But every now and then I still see that clown face, whether it is in my dreams or just in my head. That makes me dwell on those three little words. "It NevEr eNDs"