The Red Balloon

It was a cold, windy night with no moon. The wind sounded like the murmurs of a thousand spirits trying to tell me of their pain at once. As I walked to the end of the lane, where I lived, I noticed the streetlamp outside my house had stopped working. The darkness there was frightening. It was so dark that no colour could describe it. It felt wrong there, something otherworldly, something darker than the darkest black. Suddenly, an owl hooted from the top of my roof and I almost screamed. I chided myself for being so jumpy and tried to ignore the eerie feeling slowly creeping into me.

I knew what had brought this on, though. Since I was a child, I have been absolutely terrified of clowns. Today, for some reason, I had agreed to watch the movie ‘It’ with my friend. It was all fine when I was with him, but then, as I unlocked the door and stepped inside my house, I cursed myself. All I could think about was the bone-chilling antagonist, Pennywise, who happened to be a clown. I felt all the terror the children must have felt when they saw him for the first time. One particular line from the movie was really stuck in my head, “I'm every nightmare you've ever had. I'm your worst dream come true. I'm everything you ever were afraid of.” The accurateness of this was astonishing. Why did I have to act all macho and watch that horrifying film when just the sight of a clown was enough to turn me into a hysteric fool?

My walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water was the longest walk of my life. My paranoia made me turn and look back at least thrice in ten steps. My heart was racing like I had just sprinted for a kilometre. It felt like any second the shadows would spring to life in the shapes of clowns. I shuddered and drained my glass in one long sip. I started taking deep breaths and focusing on my breathing. As my heart rate gradually came back to normal, so did I. There are no ghosts. I had locked my house before leaving. Nothing or no one could have entered. Unless they were supernatural, I thought. No. Enough. I shook my head like my dog after he used to get wet. I splashed cold water on my face. I felt better and soon my mind wandered to other things.

As I lay in bed, I thought about my day and felt silly about getting so alarmed at nothing. I really had to work on not getting so scared. But what I could do? There was just something really creepy and unnatural about the smile plastered on the face of a clown. I think my fear stemmed from the fact that I didn’t really understand what was going on inside the clown’s head. I didn’t trust them. How could someone always be smiling? The thing that makes us human is the ability to feel a wide spectrum of emotions. Strip away our emotions and we are but animals. Speaking of which, I wondered how my dog was faring at my sister’s farmhouse. I missed old Jack, a stray dog I had adopted, dearly. I had had to send him somewhere else because it was getting really tough for me to take care of him due to my immensely stressful and time-consuming job. Panic attacks were my constant companion. That reminded me to stock up on my medicines, which were almost over. Would the attacks ever go? Or would they stay with me forever?

The sound of the clock striking eleven brought me out of my reverie. How the mind wanders when left alone. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

I was in the backseat of a car with a red balloon next to me. I was the sole passenger and the driver was going at a steady pace on a dark, lonely road. There were no vehicles anywhere near. I was feeling very disoriented. Where was I? How did I get there? Where was I being taken? Why was there a red balloon next to me? Who was the driver? I said, “Excuse me.” The driver didn’t give any indication that he might have heard me. Something was off. “Excuse me.” I said, a little more forcefully. Still no response. I felt annoyed. Why was he not responding? I tapped him on the shoulder. This time, he turned. It was Pennywise, with a knife in his hand.

 My heart started beating so fast that I thought it would burst out of my rib cage. I was trembling uncontrollably, fighting an uphill battle with my fear for the control of my bladder. Then, I screamed, and screamed, and screamed, an unending screech as bottomless as the depths of my fear.

The sound of the clock striking twelve woke me up, panting and covered in sweat. My heart still felt like it would burst at any time and I was every bit as terrified as I had been in my nightmare. I looked around wildly, half expecting Pennywise to come out wielding a knife. The only good part was that I had somehow managed to not soil myself. As I started doing the breathing exercises that used to provide some succor during my panic attacks, I heard three knocks on my bedroom door. I froze. A shiver went down my spine. Just then, I noticed the red balloon next to me that I had missed earlier due to my hysteria. I lost all control of my bladder and started screaming like a child. Standing in front of me, was Pennywise, knife in hand. As I looked at the smile on his face, my life flashed before me. The last thing I heard before the world went black was, “I'm every nightmare you've ever had. I'm your worst dream come true. I'm everything you ever were afraid of.”