Automatonophobia

A chuckle resonates through the house. 'A game, I'm ready for a game to play, Princess. Princess, I'm awfully disappointed we can't play a game if you're hiding from me. That's not very nice of you, Princess.'

Crouched behind the lounge, hands tightly wrapped around the bends of the ears. Tears cascading down my noise, trying to stifle the sniffles to a minimum. I could hear the chuckle resonating around my brain, hitting each wall and bouncing around.

'Come on, Princess, I want to play a game with you. I want to play a staring game with you, Princess.' The voice was getting closer, I shuffled around behind the couch and listened. There was no noise.

Laughter clouded my ears, machines of rides were whirring as people were lining up respectively waiting their turn. No pushing, no shoving. Parents of children were keeping them safe of harm, teaching them manners. While the teenagers were running around, forgetting school, assignments, teachers and no detention. This was their playground away from school: the Fair.

I was at the fair, dragged by peer pressure among my friends. 'The Fun House, does everyone agree?' I looked up at Michael, eyes dilated and words beginning to form on the tip of my tongue. I didn't want to be swallowed up by a smiling, hallucinating clown. There was no use, everyone had agreed it ten-one. I had lost.

We were close, I could hear the laughter resonating outside the entrance, the mouth of the clown begging to chew me up and swallow me whole. I froze and stared wide-eyed at the entrance, my heart beats speeding up moment by moment. I could hear it singing in my head, along with the laughter. It was a tune softer than the laughter, the chuckle growing louder by the second.

I couldn't walk away, leave it all behind. There was a lot of clowns, too many to count, a lot to fear. I tried to breathe, grabbing oxygen by the mouthful and swallowing as the root of my mouth grew dry. I heard a voice, distant from my memory. There were too many clowns, dolls, everywhere to try to concentrate.

'Are you coming in?' It was too far away, a distant voice in my memory, I tried to push away all the laughter, my heartbeat rapidly gaining pace. I ached for that pace to be my legs, gaining speed as I ran away from all these dolls and clowns. The entrance was only thirty feet away. Yet, with all these irrational thoughts pillowing around my head, it was more than two hundred yards away.

I could see it now as I gained closer, gaining speed, I would soon be out of this horrible place, rid myself of all the smiling faces, painted smiles. Fake, painted smiles. I was a step away from the exit, the memory of this place growing thinner as I grew closer to the exit. I was walking now, away from the memory, away from the smiling, painted faces. Away from all the fear.

You're never going to forget, Princess. We'll make sure of that.

Laughter bellowed, chuckles resonated. Heart pumping, grabbing oxygen. Feet planted in the ground.

'Are you coming in, Princess?'

I was trying to identify the voice, was that Michael? I tried to focus on the face in front of me, grabbing more oxygen into my lungs and taking deeper inhales. My eyes focused on boisterous, bright, red lips. Then they were focused onto the boy in front of me, Michael, my best friend.

'Did you say something?' I asked. He shook his head. Heartbeats still playing a tune in my head, slowly coming to a crescendo as the music stopped and laughter reached my ears. So many of these people were having a pleasant time, while I was having a miserable time. It was miserable, torture, fear, pain was the word. All of the above, not miserable. It didn't fit right, this was a cheerful place, full of laughter.

I turned to leave, forgetting that my feet were rooted to the ground, planted. Except they moved, willingly with each energy I could muster into the sole of my shoes, feeling the rest of my body grow numb as I sent the blood pumping to my feet. A hand fell on my shoulder, a scream emitted my throat.

'Rachael, stop, it's me.' I crumbled to the ground in the middle of the fair. I was only twenty feet away from the exit. I felt the warm tears cascade down onto my cheeks. I felt a hand upon that same cheek the tears were falling down on, but I wouldn't open my eyes.

'Open your eyes, Princess. It's a game, Princess, be fair.'

I sat on the ground, collecting dirt on the bottom of my blue dress and on my knees, but I wasn't conscious of any of that. I was remembering the laughter of the Fun House, the chills that ran up my spine when the fake, smiling, painted red lips came into view. It was there all along in my mind.

You're doing wonderful, Princess. Just one more step further.'

'Michael, take me home, please? Take me home, never look back, and never bring me back here.' I clutched onto his shirt, pulling it downwards, crinkling it under my clenched fists. I still had not opened my eyes to see the fear written on his face, I knew he was scared of my crumbled mess. I was laden out onto display, a broken mess.

Yes, Princess, you're all broken. Nobody wants to play with you, your owner has abandoned you to play with me. You're a broken mess, forgotten behind the lounge. Where nobody will find you again, and when they do, I will be the number one doll around here... Rachael.'

'Never forget that, Princess.'

I was lifeless, afraid of dolls. I was replaced by a dummy, a clown that had a 'Pull Me' string. When it was pulled, laughter would resonate from inside it's lifeless body. Somehow it was perfect, able to replace me. I was replaced by an ugly clown. My blue frock had gathered dust from behind the lounge, my brunette locks were tangling into a mess. I was afraid of other dolls, becoming a fear of myself.

'It's a game, Princess, and I won.'