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Death Of A Clown
Topic Started: Oct 9 2007, 08:26 PM (299 Views)
+Linden
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awesomesauce
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Yay! Death to clowns. I hate clowns, blah. They scare me. <_<
But no dead clowns yet....This is the first part of a short story I want to write and hopefully enter in a contest in the future.


It was a cold, rainy day when I turned off the motor of my hardly reliable and antiquely rusted pick-up truck. I sat there listening to the poing! sounding from my truck’s roof as it picked up tempo. Rain clouds had shadowed the semi-rural county of Carlton since the early hours of the morning and appeared to be reluctant to loosen its stormy hold anytime soon.

“Perfect.” I muttered, throwing my head against the steering wheel. This wasn’t the day I needed it to rain on. Sighing, I grabbed my books from the passenger seat and pushed the door open with a long, rusty squeal. You see, I have the uncanny luck of the rabbit whose foot is chained to my car keys… – wait, my keys!!

I ran back to my truck and plastered my face against the wet window, only to see my keys and rabbit foot dangling from the ignition switch, locked inside.

I rattled the car door handle but with no luck (not that I have any). In frustration, I banged my head several times against the blind spot separating the truck bed from the driver’s cabin and yelled something less than intelligible.

“Irene?” An uncertain voice asked with a warm hand placed upon my wet, left shoulder.

I turned around and with a reddened forehead met Natalie in the eyes with a black umbrella over her head. My face instantly rushed to match the color of my forehead; it wasn’t bad enough to be stupid, but to have somebody witness the stupidity? I felt my less than existent reputation circling down the drain.

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” I tried to hold back my sarcasm that Natalie didn’t deserve. She wore a light teal shirt that was displayed by and open, brown cardigan with a pair of faded, light blue jeans. With no way around it, she was positively chic and was voted ‘best dressed’ in the 11th grade. So I was surprised to learn that she was generous, thoughtful, and not like the other snobs who looked down upon my friends and me with our unkempt looks.

“You don’t look too fine.” She said skeptical, looking straight at my forehead as she motioned for me to walk with her to the sheltered porch of the school’s entrance.

“I’m just a little frustrated…alright, a lot…

“Oh, right. You have community hours to put in, huh?”

I sighed yes. I had procrastinated signing up for community service to graduate and had procrastinated to complete my hours, and today was the deadline! Everybody knew about my delay, the front office even made a public announcement addressed specifically to me that I was the last to get my hours done.

“Irene!!” Natalie chided, sympathy filling her voice, “You want me to help?”

I looked sad, probably even pitiful; I could tell by the way she looked at me. Of course I’d love the help, it was a big project, but I knew dragging another into the messy work wouldn’t be fair.

My nobility gave up.
“After school?” I asked in a meek tone if she could meet me to help with my hours.

“Rain or shine.” Natalie smiled and with a pat on my arm she walked to the double doors shaking her umbrella as she went.
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ChipChamp
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Have fun!
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Interesting, doesn't even seem like it has anything to do with clowns yet. :P
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+Linden
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awesomesauce
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Not yet... but it's going to get a little creepy. Clowns just are.
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** Death's servant
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Reflection
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good begining. I want to see more.
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+ *cabecabe4
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Interesting....Sounds good...
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Anonymous
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Uh-huh.
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+Linden
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awesomesauce
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Thanks to those who commented. Appreciate it. Criticism is also welcomed. I can handle it!

I expect it to pick up very shortly after this...



I couldn’t help but grimace and whine anytime the thoughts of my community service came to mind during the school day; the dread was hardly inescapable. The anxiety crashed down like a flood of bricks and I could feel my blood rise several hundred degrees and to breath would cause pain. Looking for some way to lessen the anxiety, I’d think of Natalie and her offer to help. As I reassured myself, I felt bricks being taken off one at a time until I could breath normally again.

It was during fourth period, pre-cal, when I had thought of Natalie and the pain of anxiety died down and in good timing too. The pre-cal final exam was scheduled this period. Pre-cal and I never got off. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand; I understood the majority of concepts. However, I just never liked doing the work. If it weren’t for graduation requirements, I’d have slept through the whole year.

I rolled my pink eraser in my hands as I waited for the teacher to pass out the stack of papers, which was the test. I was in the first row, facing the only window in the classroom and saw my sorry excuse for a truck sitting out in the student parking lot. My thoughts went to my keys still in the ignition. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Consumed in my thoughts, I dropped my eraser. It bounced off the desk towards the floor. I bent down to retrieve the pink pet where I had heard it land. When I finally had the eraser in my hand I heard a loud shriek from Ashley, the girl who sat next to me:

“What the hell are you doing?”

I looked up at her startled and confused. Wasn’t I just getting my eraser from the floor? My eyes fell downward; my hand, clasped around the eraser, was in her purse. My hand raced back to my side and I showed her what was in my hand.

“It was an accident!” I tried to say but I was drowned out by Ashley’s over-reacting squeals. She reminded me of the shrieking mother crow in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland when Alice disturbed her nest as she ate an ‘eat me’ cracker. The teacher stood in the middle of the classroom with a half set of tests and looked our way.

“She tried to rob me!!”
“By accident! I didn’t take anything!”
“You took an eraser!”
My eraser!”
“Enough!” Mr. Sherman yelled above both of us. “Miss. Ryley, give Miss. Curtis’ her eraser back and take your test in the office.”
“But, it really is my --”
“Now!”

I pushed my chair away from my desk, grabbed my things, and stood up. Where was the justice in the world? Walking over I grabbed my test and exited the classroom.
‘You’ll get yours…’ I muttered to an imaginary Ashley out in the empty hall. This wasn’t the first time Ashley made my or anyone else’s day miserable. Spilling drinks, creating rumors, bulling - only a few of the tricks she kept in her arsenal.

I pushed open the front office doors, waved my test to the faculty and sat down at the far table. Letting out a deep breath, I flipped through the pages finding what I knew was easy and started.

~*~*~
The rest of the day wasn’t much better. However, once I had my clash with Ashley and fully irritated, the anxiety attacks where few and far. In a weird way I have to thank my uncanny ability to be unlucky, and resultantly, Ashley; adrenalin is a lifesaver...
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** Death's servant
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Reflection
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interesting...Don't mind me asking for some action do you?
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+Linden
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awesomesauce
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It's not a real action-fist throwing story, DS. Sorry about that. :sigh:
It's... well, I don't know what it is yet.

No vampires this time, either. Even though the first chapter is similar the Twilight, with the beaten truck I imagined just like Bella's and the crappy weather.
I will say for the record: The first chapter was written before I had even open the book up. :)
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** Death's servant
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Reflection
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wow I thought you got some of your ideas from twilight, similar style.
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+Linden
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awesomesauce
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I've always hated how this works out. Think of a great ideas for a story and then out comes a story with the same ideas... :dead:
But it really is a good book.
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