I hate clowns. I think they are vile and disgusting in every way, and they scare me to the core. With that said here is my story.
My cousin lost her mother when she was two years old. The last gift her mother had ever given her was a wind-up musical clown. It wound-up on the base, so while it was playing it's collipe music is spun around in circles.
When we were about 11 years old, I was staying with her and my uncle in Florida. We had just gone to bed, but being 11 years old, and rarely ever seeing each other we stayed up to talk. When we finally decided to go to sleep I rolled over and saw that clown, I don't know if the street light was reflecting off of it's glass eyes, but it appeared to be looking at me. I mentioned this to my cousin and she told me to just turn it around. That is what I did, but as soon as I laid back down on the bed, I could see it's eyes again. My cousin, knowing my irrational fear of clowns, hid the thing in her dresser drawer.
With the clown hidden, I drifted off into a comfortable sleep. About two hours later I was jolted out of sleep, by my cousin shaking me and whispering my name over and over again. That clown was sitting on the dresser, spinning around and playing that creepy collipe music. I thought that she was playing a mean joke on me, so I said to her that if she was I was going to break it. Of course, it being the last gift bought by her mother, she started crying and begging me not to, all the while insisting it wasn't a joke. She got up and put it in the closet.
Another two hours passed, and I was again awakened by the collipe music. The clown was sitting on the dresser again! I freaked out, woke up my cousin, got out of bed and smashed the clown into pieces on the floor. I proceeded to run from the room, sustaining several deep cuts on my feet from the glass.
After going to the bathroom and cleaning my wounds, I laid on the couch, wondering why my cousin hadn't come after me to yell at me. I peeked back into the room to see what she was doing. She had her back pressed all the way up against the wall, her eyes were wide open, her teeth were chattering, and she was pointing in the direction of the dresser.
Apparently, when I left the room she had flipped over away from the clown and started crying at the loss of the gift. She claims that she laid like that for about 10 minutes or so, before she heard the collipe music. She thought that maybe the base hadn't broken and was still able to play the music, so she turned over to see. Instead of just seeing the base, the clown was on her dresser, completely intact!
She still has that creepy old clown, but it is buried in a box with the rest of her childhood toys. And I still bear the scars of a broken porcelain clown.