Ring Around the Rosie

For the past week, I have seen sponsored social media posts and posters advertising for a new carnival coming to town. Scrolling through my feed, I stop on the ad to see if it is worth visiting.

A ringmaster, juggler, and clown come into view and go through everything they have to offer. While the ringmaster is speaking, the juggler is behind him juggling and the clown is standing strangely still. The clown is staring into the camera with a huge smile and does not blink for the entirety of the sixty-second video. I replay the ad several times to confirm what I was seeing.

They promise rides for all ages, deep-fried foods, and a circus of only the greatest showmen. The last carnival our town hosted was about ten years ago when I was six years old. Since our town is always quiet, everyone attends when something exciting comes along.

“Hey, have you seen the ads for this new carnival?” I text my closest friend, Amy.

“Yeah, I think everyone has,” she replies. “Why? You wanna go?”

“I was going to buy tickets now if you would like to join me?” I am not going to go without her.

“Of course! Let’s do it.” She replies with an emoji of a face sticking its tongue out.

*****

            CARNIVAL! The sign above the entrance flashes with red and yellow LEDs. Children laughing and screams echo through the air. Amy grabs my arm and pulls me towards the first game she wants to play, basketball. Even though I know the games are rigged, I love laughing at her attempts.

While I watch her shoot, I feel this overwhelming warmth like someone is watching me. I glance through the crowd of crossing people until I meet my watcher’s eyes. A few booths down a clown smiles at me. I immediately recognize the clown from the carnival’s advertisement video. He still does not blink, and his body is still. Everyone who walks by him does so as if he is not there. The clown turns, walks away, and I lose him in the crowd.

“Hey!” Amy yells at me. “What are you looking at?”

She had already finished her game and was calling to me, and I never heard a word. Looking into that clown’s eyes transported me to a different dimension.

After playing several games and being on a couple rides, Amy decided she wanted to go to the circus show. I would normally protest this idea because of my fear of clowns and other circus creatures, but I know the carnival might not be back for a while.

We find a couple of open seats and start to snack on our bags of peanuts. The show begins with the same ringmaster from their video ad, then he opens the floor to the trapeze artists. Throughout the show, we see different zoo animals and their trainers, the juggler, but no clown. I start to think I am going crazy and never saw him to begin with, maybe my fear was taking over my vision.

Once the show ends, the ringmaster encourages everyone to stay for a quick post-show contest. He explains it as a volunteer plays the game and if they win, the prize is a backstage pass for a Q&A with the performers. The only catch is the audience does not know what the game is until after the ringmaster gets his volunteer. Naturally, Amy volunteers me. After the peer pressure consumes me, I start making my way to the stage.

“Let’s hear a round of applause for our lovely volunteer,” the ringmaster says into his headset.

The heat from the spotlights creates beads of sweat on my forehead. The stage is lower than the audience and it makes me feel like the whole world is looking down on me. In the far corner of the stage hangs long, red curtains hiding the performers inside. However, something else is in the corner and I strain my eyes to focus on it. The clown’s body is half-hidden behind the curtain and half exposed. All I can see is his one red eye and his half-smile staring back at me.

“Play the game, win the prize,” the ringmaster hands me three yellow and red balls no bigger than my fist. “Throw the balls through the hoops and you win!”

In front of me are three equally sized hula hoops. I have to throw each ball into the hoops. It should be easy; the hoops are much larger than the balls, so I take my shot.

One.

Two.

Three!

I make all three shots and win the game. The ringmaster slides a lanyard over my head with the backstage pass attached. Since I came here with only Amy, I convince the ringmaster to let her tag along with me for my Q&A.

Backstage is very dark and quiet. The only light comes from the dressing rooms and makeup vanities that line the hallway. Amy and I meet a few performers before some of the trapeze artists drag her off somewhere. Most of the performers are in their restricted areas, wanting to be left alone. Which leaves me to wander along the dark corridors of the circus.

I turn down one of the halls leading back to the exit and a shadow greets me. A single red light at the end of the hall illuminates the dark stature of the same clown I have been seeing all night. Only this time it is quiet enough to hear his deep, ragged breathing. His smile glows in the darkness, sending me into a panic. My hands begin to sweat, and my chest is tight. The clown starts walking towards me slowly, then faster until he makes it into an all-out sprint. My body will not move, and I feel frozen in place. Finally, my body loosens up and I turn to run down the same hallway I came from. I can hear his clown shoes plopping down with each step as he chases me through the halls. For the first time, I hear his laugh. I hear two voices laughing from the same clown, like a demon.

I am lost in the darkness and I make a wrong turn. I find myself at a dead end and turn to see him standing a few feet in front of me. He is breathing heavily and drooling down to the floor. The clown licks his lips and runs towards me again. I close my eyes and wait.

I jolt awake, still lying in bed drenched in my own sweat. I check my phone to see Amy’s text message.

“Yeah, I think everyone has,” I read. “Why? You wanna go?”

I realize that everything I experienced was a nightmare, or worse a premonition.

“Not really, I don’t like clowns,” I reply.

“Okay. I’m still going to go, so if you change your mind let me know!”

I never went to that carnival with Amy. The next morning, I wake up to a news headline reading, “KILLER CARNIVAL CLOWN.”

The same clown I dreamt about ended up killing three people at the carnival that night. Among the victims listed, Amy’s name appears.