Page 7 of House of Clowns

"Carlo! Somebody, help me!" My voice broke, and I felt tears course down my face. But the crowd flowed on, not interested in my hurt, in my desperation taken in by the noise of the circus. Lights and laughter were wrong on every level; it was like some sort of twisted nightmare.

I whipped around, eyes wide, searching for him, breath hitching in ragged gasps. My heart thundered in my chest with each beat harder than the last, the reality cold and sharp, like aknife, really setting in. I might have lost him. I might have lost the only person who ever really cared about me. Lost him over a piece of candy from some strange man.

I began to sob—a loud, hollow sound that cut through the circus noise. The world seemed to blur, spinning as I grasped the truth of this place. The stories, the warnings—they were true.The House of Clownswas a trap, a place where people disappeared, swallowed whole by its twisted games. And if you weren't one of them—if you found yourself in some kind of trap—you needed to run. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could, away from the maze and away from those tents, away from the clowns and their painted smiles. I ran until my lungs were burning and my legs folded under me, and still, I ran on. All I could think of was home.

SIX

ACE

The walk home was a complete blur, just a blank void except for the rhythmic beat of my heart and the squelching of my shoes as they sank into the mud. Each step felt heavier than the last as if the earth itself was drawing me deeper, trying to swallow me up. I didn't dare look back. When I finally had the house in my sights, all I could do was stand momentarily in front of the large door. My hand rose, hovering over the handle that levered and rattled beneath my fingers as I quivered. I didn't know what waited on the other side. My father's mood was like a wrecking ball, but I needed to tell him about Carlo. We had to call for help, we had to get the police involved.

The door opened before I had quite decided whether to knock or enter. He stood in the doorway, filling it like a shadow that had come to life. His shirt, once white, was now befouled, clinging to his frame like the ghost of what he had once been.

The smell reached me before his voice did. Feral, a mix of sweat and alcohol, it was as if something was decaying. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, floating somewhere between rage and some kind of narcotics-like fix that kept him tethered to thishalf-life. In his right hand, which hung low by his side, was the leather belt. It swayed just a little and didn't seem to be swaying at all, yet its view depressed my stomach. The urge to run, to turn and flee back through the clearing, back to the circus, back to the clowns who suddenly seemed so much less perilous than my own home, seized me.

Before I could move, his hand shot out and there it was, tightening around my arm like a vice.

He yanked me inside and threw me onto the floor without even acknowledging I was more than a rag doll. I squirmed backward, trying to crawl away, and the coarse-grained wood was like sandpaper against my skin. But he followed me, his heavy boots clomping with every step, the floorboards groaning with each move he made. The belt slapped against his calloused palm in a sickening rhythm as he loomed over me.

My back went against the wall, trapping me.

He smiled, but it wasn't a smile. It was twisted, and cruel. The belt smacked harder against his hand warning.

"Do you know what time it is?" His voice was low, threatening. Then louder, "Do you?!

My voice was but a whisper. "Carlo's missing," I managed to say, my voice catching in my throat. "We have to call someone, we have to—" Crouching, his knee slammed into the floor as he leaned in close, so close I could smell the decay on his breath.

"No one's gonna help you," he hissed; his laugh sharp, cold. "No one!"

I flinched as his hand shot out, clenching into my jaw, and forcing me back against the wall. His fist followed, connecting to my face with enough force to send my head snapping to one side, vision swimming in a sudden blur of pain.

One, two, three...I counted as if somehow the numbers could take me out of this terrible here, take me anywhere else.

But the hits just continued his fists, the belt, whatever that would be used to beat the life out of me. All I could hear was the thud of leather against my skin, the sharp crack of bone and flesh, but all seemed so far away, like it happened to another person.

I closed my eyes and wished to be elsewhere, wishing for a dream that would swallow me whole.I drifted far away, slipping beneath some cold dark ocean. The water was heavy and thick; it pulled me lower, weight growing upon me. My white dress floated around me, my hair swirling in slow motion as the sea consumed me. And then as I reached the bottom, I saw her.

She was there, her pale face soft, her hazel eyes brimming with the love I have ached for all these years. She reached out her arms, embracing me close, rocking me as we lay together on the ocean floor. It was so peaceful.

For a minute, I just didn't want to go. If this was it, I was ready.

But then she let go. A sad smile, though something in those eyes-something told me that was not it. I was not done yet. I was not ready.

I fought to the surface, lungs burning with the struggle of trying to breathe. My whole body ached, screaming, but I didn't stop. That had me clawing back up toward the light, gasping for air.

I came to, sprawled out on the floor, my cheek against the cold wood. It was dark; the only sound was the snoring of my father from down in the living room. He had fallen asleep, his rage tired out for the night. But the pain was still there, sharp and searing, cutting through every bit of me.

I tried to move, but my body would not budge. My muscles screamed in protest, my skin bruised and raw. I pushed with the little energy I had left; my arms were trembling and finally, after a long time, I managed to drag myself on the floor inch by inch.

Silent tears slid down my cheeks; my body was too broken evento sob loudly. I thought of Mom again, her face, her arms holding me tight at the bottom of that ocean. I missed her so much, it hurt more than the blows.

"For you,"I whispered low and forced myself to move another inch."For you."

She needed me to fight back. She needed for me to survive, not give up.Even when I had no longer the strength to give up, I crawled on.

My body dragged itself across the cold floor; the touch of every scrape of my elbows against the surface burned like fire. Inch by inch, I pushed my body forward like the hall was an endless tunnel. Gasping for air, I reached my room. My fingers shaking, I grasped for the doorframe and dragged myself upright, holding on to the wood as though it was the only thing holding me in this world. After one step, I sent the door slamming shut behind me, and my hand scrabbled for a lock until I heard the faint click.

And then I collapsed.

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