Chapter 3

3.

The drive home seemed longer than usual, Mark allowed his mind to wander as he drove. He thought of the thin women and the paint that was on the back of his neck.
“Very superstitious, writings on the wall”, Mark sang aloud as the song came on the radio. The song seemed to make thoughts fade from his mind. He drove along the road slowly, his speed was cautious mostly because he was not. His eyes seemed to wander as he drove down the motorway, no cars seemed to be in his lane and no obstacles in his way. Mark drove off the road and fount himself on a small country road not far from his house. He started to drive fast now, he stared only at his hands and not at the speed of the car or the traffic at front of him. His hands slowly became pale, extremely pale. It was clear that this was not a natural white for a human. It was as if paint was flooding from his steering wheel and flooding his hands.
“You skip the line fandango, turned crosswhells ‘cross the floor”, Mark sang as he noticed that his hand ere growing paler. Without Mark knowing a car swung around the corner and sped straight into the side of Marks car, it clipped him and his car flew into a ditch on the side of the room. His head flung back and his neck cracked. He got out of the car and saw a large bald man screaming in front of him.
“What the f**k are you doing, you stupid f*****g idiot. Why don’t you just watch where you are going next time you stupid b*****d”, it wasn’t Marks fault the crash had happened and it didn’t matter how large this man was, Mark was not going to be blamed for it now.
“Look mate, you’re the one who swung around the corner, going god knows how fast. Why don’t you just give me your details and we can both go home”, Mark said calmly pointing at the paint mark at the front of the car. This only set the man off and he started to scream at Mark,
“Are you being serious? You’re the f*****g gormless fool who drives like an idiot”, he grabbed hold of Mark by the scruff on his neck and held him against the car.
“You want my details now do you?”, Mark felt pressure building upon him. He felt trapped. Isolated. He grabbed the other man by the neck and began to strangle him. The mans grip on Mark loosened and Mark swung him around so the man had his back to the car and Mark was in control. His hands began to tighten, they were impossibly pale. The paint was growing from his fingertips down to his elbow, it nearly filled his entire body but then he let go. The man had been screaming for air the entire time but Mark didn’t hear a word.
The man ran to his car and drove off, for a big man he could move very quickly. Mark opened his car door, turned the key and drove off aiming for home.

When Mark pulled up Sarah's car was still out, she must have gone to her sisters before shopping Mark thought. When he went to open the door he saw that his hand was still caked in paint, he now opened the door, walked in and closed it. He looked down at the handle and it was completely clean. No paint. Mark wasn’t surprised at all. He walked up to his bathroom and began to shower, he vigorously scrubbed his hand with his other hand. He grabbed the shower head and rubbed it viciously, blood began to be drawn from the hand before the paint even started to fade. He was in there for an hour or so before his hand was clean, Mark felt calmed now. He looked at himself in the mirror and felt like he had control again. Control was important. Mark needed control.
“Mark, are you home?”, A voice shouted from downstairs.
“Yeah, I just got out the shower. I’ll be down in a minute”, Mark shouted down, guessing that the voice had been his wife Sarah. Mark dried himself with a towel and then put his clothes back on. He walked down the stairs shakily, his legs seemed to buckle under him. Mark paused, composed himself and then walked down the stairs.
On the bottom of the stairs in a carry cot he saw his four month old baby boy. The baby was brown haired and blue eyed, like his dad. Mark leaned down and picked up the baby and pressed the baby to his chest.
“Hello Johnny, did you have a nice time with mummy. You did didn’t you”, he rocked the child around as he spoke in a baby voice. He was practically dancing with the baby when Sarah saw him.
“Don’t spin him around to much he’ll be sick”, Sarah said as she passed Mark and walked to the car to get bags of shopping.
“Daddy doesn’t want you getting sick does he”, Mark said as he placed the baby back in his cot. Johnny was now awake but he didn’t cry, he would hardly ever cry in front of Mark.
“You’re back late”, Mark said as Sarah entered the house again.
“I went to my sisters”, she said flatly. There was no emotion in her voice or face, Mark didn’t know if she had any emotion left.
“How is she?”, Mark said as Sarah closed the door behind her.
“Actually not very well”, she said walking into the kitchen, not offering an explanation to what she had said. Mark followed her into the kitchen like a puppy dog.
“Is she okay? What’s happened”, Mark said as Sarah was sat on the kitchen table lighting a cigarette. She would do this often when Mark was around.
“Do you really want to know or are you just asking?”, Sarah said without looking at Mark.
“Yeah of course I want to know”, Mark said as he pulled up his chair expecting Sarah to talk. She exhaled heavily and then spoke,
“Well apparently a few streets away from her house there was a fire”, she said, Mark was confused.
“Why is she so upset about a fire?”,
“If you’ll let me finish then I’ll tell you”, Sarah said sharply.
“Sorry, carry on”, Mark said with his tail between his legs.
“Apparently it was that bankers house a couple of streets down and they think it was someone that did it you know, that someone started the fire on purpose. Apparently the whole street heard a laugh, which obviously Clara thought was absolute bollocks. But then she spoke to her friend Julie who lives on the street and she saw a clown swinging knifes as he walked down the street. Blood everywhere all over him, on his face and his suit”, she said all this with a distant look in her eyes. She was picturing the clown as she had been through the entire day, even then she knew that this figure would plague her dreams.
“His suit? Was he wearing like a big clown suit or something?”, Mark asked astonished at the story, his face was believably shocked.
“No, that was the thing that scared her most. Apparently he was wearing a suit and tie. She wasn’t sure if it was black or red because of the amount of blood”, she said with a shudder, she envisioned the clown whenever she close her eyes. He skipped down the street with the burning building behind him. He laughed and smiled at her, his eyes looking at her straight in the eyes. With the close blood pouring from his mouth and the knifes he had were glistened with blood. He could not be considered a He to Sarah it was an It. It had lost all humanity. It haunted her dreams.

Sarah drew a tear from her eye, small but a tear none the less. She was worried for her sister, she wanted to be held and she wanted to be looked after. But she didn’t trust Mark, he couldn’t look after her. She came within herself immediately, Mark was still sat at the table but she didn’t see him. She lit another cigarette.