Fun House

• Horror
• Short story
• Fiction

								
I stood in front of one of the mirrors, eyes running from one to another.  My mind wandered in circles as I watched the mirrors make me look fat in one skinny and another. This almost made me laugh, but suddenly, I saw out of the corner of my eye a small clown.  I estimated him to be about a foot and half tall, with a large open mouth. His teeth were cracked and tinted, and I got an eerie feeling that the “tint” was blood.  His outfit was old and worn, a deep plum color, with three large forest green cotton balls running from his chest to his waist. His shoes had bells on the tips of them, and his hat appeared to have three floppy points with bells at the ends too.  And his pants looked as though blood had splashed on him.  He looked like he was going to be trouble.  I jumped back, flinging myself into Aria.  I hoped she saw him too. We didn’t say a word; we just looked at each other, as we both stood there in shock. I trembled as I stepped away, while the clown's eyes burned deeper into my memory. 
       I thought to myself, Why did I listen to Aria? This was the dumbest thing we could have done. We didn't have to go to the attic,  I could have chosen to go to the park, but NO. We *had* to go to the attic.  We didn't have to mess with the little clown doll, and we certainly didn't have to end up in a fun house, a mirror maze.  The sound of jingling shoes dancing around me interrupted my thoughts, followed by a high squeaky laugh, while lights flashed around the mirrors. The noise stopped, then started again, like a joke or a tease, or a sick way of messing with our minds.  The jingles grew louder and faster, holding my attention. And then they just stopped. 
I turned to Aria, “What the hell do we do now?!”  But she was gone.  All I could see was me in the mirror and red flashing lights. Where did she go?  Did the clown take her, or was it something else?  I started to cry, thinking, If we hadn't listened to Matheo, Aria's older brother, and if we hadn’t messed with that little clown doll, she would still be here. My best friend would still be here! I shook my head and started into the maze after her, but the jingling stopped me.
       I screamed “What do you want?!” into the emptiness. A low laugh echoed in the maze accompanied with a loud footstep. A slight squeak told me this was definitely a new clown, not the short one from before. My fear grew as the steps got closer, but I began to follow the lighted path, tracing my turns through the mirror maze. Left turn. Left turn. Right turn; until I hit a fork in the path.  The steps grew louder, and I started to wonder whether I was mad at this doll that had teleported me and Aria to this dreadful place, or whether I was afraid  of what the choice meant. 
Was there a right way? I could either go down a long hallway lined from floor to ceiling with the same fun house mirrors and the same flashing red lights, or to move into the maze. The hallway had a door at the end that looked creepy, with the glowing lights from the mirrors. A sign hung on the door, broken in half, like whatever was in there didn’t like the second half. It read “It’s just . . .”  I wondered, but the steps got closer, so  I raced down the hallway, flung open the door and burst into the room. I latched the door silently behind me, and then turned to see a dining table pushed against the wall. I dove under it.  I could feel myself starting to panic, so I paused for a second trying to regain my breathing. When I heard the steps fade into a distance,  I sighed with relief. My mind kept repeating the same thoughts, maybe Aria is alive? If  she is, how am I going to get us both out of here? I wanted to leave to continue into the maze to find my way out. But I sat still trying to regain control of my entire body, not just my breathing. Out of nowhere, a figure approached the table.  I covered my mouth not knowing if this would be the end of me or not.
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