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Thread: Muppet Clown

  1. #1
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    Muppet Clown

    I want to know if I have any shot at becoming a writer. Please let me know what you think?

    I have had a plethora of strange experiences in my life. In this instance, I will start with the earliest one that I remember.

    I had an active imagination as a kid. I had imaginary friends that I would talk too, even when I was around actual people. I can account for all of these imaginary friends as normal. I mean, they were either characters from television shows or cartoons that I would watch, so i considered them "normal". All except one. This is what I remember:

    I was very young and had been sick with a fever and cold. I can't remember exactly how old I was, but I was young enough that I was wearing yellow one piece pajamas with the built in plastic socks on the feet. I was being carried up the stairs by my aunt and I was mumbling at her to hurry up or "the cookie monster thing will get us!"

    Now, the "Cookie Monster" is a real character from the kid's show "Sesame Street, but it was not the real cookie monster that I was afraid of. I only called it "Cookie Monster" because this thing had very similar eyes to "Cookie Monster". This was simply the only way I could describe it with my limited vocabulary at the time.

    It looked like a long hand puppet with a white shirt that would billow and ripple because it had no torso. It could stretch and grow to different lengths. It's arms where like metal rods that could extend out quickly and strike me in ways similar to a snake. It would always slap me open palmed or poke me with two fingers (index and pointer) in a way that hurt terribly. I felt so much hatred and rage from it's touch that it was overwhelming.

    The hands had on large, white gloves just like Bugs Bunny or Mickey Mouse. The head was perfectly rounded just like a beach ball. It had curly hair that would change color from orange to blue. It's face was painted white and it had a mouth which would twist and contort in very terrifying ways as it would hit me. It never spoke to me that I recall, but it would sometimes make angry hissing sounds or let out short aggressive grunts to terrify me. The eyes bulged out of the head and moved on their own just like the "googly eyes" on kids toys or puppets. It had so much hate inside of it, so much hate towards me I was unable to comprehend it as a child.

    After I let out the warning about "Cookie Monster" I remember my aunt giggled because she thought I was being cute. In my mind, I was in fear for our lives. My aunt humored me and jogged up the last four or five stairs, and I saw it's hand come from the cracks of the trim and try to grab my aunt by her Achilles tendon. I let out a high pitched shriek and immediately began to cry. My aunt asked me what was the matter, and I made some garbled remark about an imaginary puppet with evil intentions. She told me that I just had a fever and everything would be better in the morning.

    This was not some one time occurring fever hallucination, I had been seeing this being for years now. It would always pop out of the walls from the cracks of the trim or the drywall. Always from my peripheral vision, or when I was falling asleep, or just waking up. It would always poke me or slap me very hard and with ferocity. It would hit me hard enough to cause a massive twitch or spasm. My whole body would jerk suddenly. It would always leave me sore where it hit me, and often with cramped muscles. I would cry and complain about it, but as you can guess, any sensible adult would not believe me. I would be scolded for wanting attention or lying, so I stopped talking about it all together.

    I have one very distinct memory of lying in my bed early one morning, and this thing floated up from between the mattress and the wall like a cloud of smoke or mist. It would "slither", in a way. It floated about three feet above me, farther than usual, and then it cocked back and lunged at me with two fingers (index and middle), and hit me harder than it ever had before. It got me directly in the armpit.

    I remember my aunt let out a scream of pure terror. She happened to be about 20 feet away at the time, and was blow drying her hair before school. She screamed and ran out of the room. I remember her crying and telling my grandparents that I need to be seen by a doctor because something was wrong. She was choking back tears and saying "The way he flew out of that bed! It wasn't normal! It was almost like something picked him up and threw him!" I remember her words exactly. I never was taken to a doctor, it was just assumed that I had a nightmare and did some thrashing in my sleep. I was becoming used to this sort of thing happening by now. Although after that morning, I think that deep down, my aunt knew something more was going on.

    I got a bit older and eventually the thing stopped popping out of walls and hitting me. It would visit me in a recurring dream I had for many years. The dream would always take place in the same second story bedroom. The entity would chase me around this room, and I would be trying to dodge it as though my life depended on it. and it would always end the same way. I would usually find a way out of the room through the window and jump to the lawn below. I would stare up at the window and the creature would stare back. It was a calm, confident stare. It was not angry I had escaped, only confident this chase would happen again, and it would definitely catch me next time.

    After about the first year of high school, the dreams stopped completely.

    I remember seeing a child psychologist and I told her about my childhood tormentor. When she asked me to describe it, the words "Muppet Clown" came to mind. When I think about it's appearance, "Muppet Clown" is actually a suitable description.

    The psychologist explained that "Muppet Clown" was a manifestation of some fear or trauma that I had experienced, but was unable to process as a child. I accept this as a rational explanation, but I sometimes wonder, what if it was something much more sinister?

  2. #2
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    Perhaps you should consider starting to develop your writing skills separately from self-analysis? You certainly have a talent for writing.

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