A Harrowing Experience

It was close to Halloween. I was in a small stately mansion up North which had been developed into a hotel. More of a bed and breakfast type place really, rather than a posh hotel. It only had twelve rooms and the owners, an elderly couple, lived on the premises.

Because it was winter, they did not have any customers that night. I was the only one there in this stately home. The owners had left to spend the evening with friends to celebrate Halloween. They showed me how to lock the front door and said they'd be in early in the morning to prepare my breakfast.

I had my evening meal before they left and retired to my room, on the third floor of this small mansion, to watch TV.

It was dark outside and snowing heavily. I wondered if they would be able to return in the morning if the snow continued to fall all night. In fact, I wondered if I would be stuck here myself unable to leave. We were in the deep countryside with nothing but trees and mountains for company. The wind was howling through the trees and reminded me that this was the night for "trick or treat".

For some unknown reason, I locked my bedroom door. What's the point of that? I am in a house all alone with all doors and windows locked. Why lock my room? But I did ...

I changed into my pink pyjamas, the one with teddy bear motifs all over, and I sat on the bed and watched TV. There was a good episode of Downton Abbey suitable as a cure for insomniacs.

A few moments later there was a slight knock, or was it a scratching sound, at the window. At first I ignored it. But it happened again. A slight "knock ..." then a pause and "knock ... knock ..." and then "scratch ... scratch ..." as if a cat outside wanted to come in.

My blood ran cold. The central heating was not working properly so my blood was already at low temperature anyway ... so it ran ... or actually hobbled even colder than before.

The knocking and scratching happened again. My blood was too tired to run any longer. It just sat there freezing.

I thought it was probably a bird, or an owl, sheltering by my window. Possible overcome by the falling snow and resting for a while.

The knocking and scratching continued. Somehow, I found some courage. I always carry a little with me when travelling. I got out of the bed and drew back the curtains.

There ... looking at me was a clown!

He must have been either very tall or standing on stilts; because my room was on the third floor.

He smiled at me. Or rather, the paint on his face smiled at me.

I did not know what to do. I was both very hot and very cold at the same time.

The clown outside started juggling with different coloured balls. Then he put them in his pocket and started making balloon animals. He'd pull out a balloon from his pocket, blow it in one or two breaths, then make a giraffe, or a horse, or a bird, which he then let drop to the ground.

After a few moments he asked me, "what are you watching on TV?"

With the window still shut I mumbled, "Downton Abbey!"

He replied, "Why watch such a boring program when I am here to entertain you?"

The next thing I knew, it was morning. The hostel owner was knocking at my door to announce that breakfast was ready. The TV was still on and broadcasting the morning news.

Not a mention of a clown on stilts!!!!