Field Trip: The Clown Doll

                Many teens in the small town of La Ceja, Colombia, babysit in their free time to have some extra money for themselves. Around a certain time, a good six years ago, babysitting became something very serious, and by serious I mean “watch my baby 24/7” serious. Kids and homes were being looked after with much care and concern, and during this time the streets were emptier at night and a few lights around the houses remained on even when its inhabitants were sleeping, that is if they managed to get calm enough to sleep. This uneasiness was caused by a fear that began to spread among the people. I will tell you what caused this fear, but I cannot assure you what you’ll get out from it, after all, it’s been some time since then.

                It happened on a Friday night during late November, the air was clod and dry, and people enjoyed a late night drink out on the streets. Natasha Gomez, a young girl, had been well acquainted with the Bermudez family and while she worked as the babysitter for their two toddlers, she was almost part of the family. This specific night, Natasha was called at a last minute arrangement to watch the kids while both parents attended a small birthday party. It all seemed well, Natasha and the kids stayed up for a while playing games and watching a movie. While both kids rested peacefully at either side of her on the couch, Natasha noticed something new about the house. She realized there was a new doll in the living room. The doll was a big—almost full-size—clown sitting on Mr. Bermudez’s rocking chair. Natasha would’ve been calm for the rest of the evening if it weren’t for the way the clown’s eyes looked, they seemed too real, the way they weren’t completely pitch dark, they had a certain gloss to them, they made the clown look almost alive. She struggled hard to concentrate on the movie after that, her eyes flickering back to the doll every once in a while, as if looking at it would stop it from doing anything unexpected.

                After a while, both kids had dozed off on her lap and she decided to carry them to their rooms. After getting them ready for bed and tucking them in she went back to the living room and continued to watch the movie and wait until the Bermudez would return. As much as she tried to ignore the doll, her thoughts would always return to it, and soon she started to imagine the doll twitch slightly. It got to the point in which Natasha couldn’t take it anymore and decided to cover the doll with a sheet. She knew it was still there, but just not having the image made it much better, it was just for the comfort. Just like when a kid covers himself up with a blanket at night, he knows the monster would not be stopped by the blanket, but it’s just the comfort of having something to isolate him what protected him. Soon Natasha was able to drift into a comfortable sleep but shortly after that, she woke to the sound of creaking wood. It was a tiny sound, barely audible, but very real. Natasha’s eyes snapped open and immediately drifted in the direction of the rocking chair. She let out a loud gasp when she noticed the sheet had been removed and the clown was staring directly at her. She made eye contact for what seemed like torturous years and then the phone rang.

“Hello?” she asked a bit afraid. She let out a sigh when she heard the voice on the other end.

“Yes, Natasha? Just calling to check in on you.” Mrs. Bermudez spoke calmly.

“Um, yeah, everything’s fine back here. I put the kids to sleep and all. Except,” Natasha hesitated, fixing her eyes on the doll again for a second.

“Except what?”

“Nothing, it’s just that the clown doll you’ve got on the living room, it’s giving me the creeps.”

“What clown doll?” Mrs. Bermudez asked in confusion.

“You know, the big, almost human-size doll sitting on the rocking chair. I’m looking at it right now.”

“We don’t have a clown doll,” There was a long silence on both sides of the phone, but Natasha’s breathing was starting to speed up. “Get out of the house. Quick!” Natasha did as she was told, running fast for the kids and taking them outside where a couple of neighbors enjoying the cold night.  A while later Mr. and Mrs. Bermudez arrived with the police and entered the house but there was no doll to be found anywhere. After much investigation Mrs. Bermudez had noticed one of her craving knives had disappeared and later that night, about five miles south into the forest the police had found the knife stuck to an officer’s throat. He had been sent along with a sniffer dog to follow the sent that was on the sheet.

                Who really was the clown? Why was he there? No one really knows, and no one really wants to. Many people say it could have been a killer, a maniac who had gotten out of hold. Others let themselves be taken by superstition and said it was the long lost spirit of one of the native legends of the land, the Whistler, who comes out of the woods to do the devil’s bidding. After that day, nothing weird or mysterious really happened, perhaps because the town was more careful and watched over the streets very often, perhaps because whoever it was got caught, or perhaps it just got what it wanted.