When I was about five years old I watched a movie with my father. The details of how I managed to watch the movie are a little fuzzy. I am not sure if he was aware I was watching it with him or not. However the movie itself has been etched forever in my mind.
Twenty plus years later I decided I must find this old movie. The movie that so impressed itself on my five year old mind, I could still practically recite it by heart.
To my surprise, without remembering anything about the title or any of the actors, I was able to recite some of those lines to my dear friend Google and find that movie. My husband then tracked it down and bought it for me.
In particular I remembered a certain song. The song that for so long haunted me.
Because it visited me in my dreams. My nightmares.
Every night I would awake screaming. Mommy! He was there. He was in my room. I can still see him. He is just as vivid now as he was then. I remember my pounding heart. The cold sweat. My quick heavy breaths as I gasped for air. He was right there in my room, looking over my bed. He appeared on my window shade. The clown with his wide menacing grin. As I screamed he calmly sang his song. As I cried and pleaded for my mother to come he danced his little dance.
My parents would calm me and tell me that it was just a dream. That he could not hurt me. But I SAW him. He was there. Maybe he couldn't hurt me in real life but he had power in my dreams. They would tell me it was ok. I could go back to sleep. But that was his realm. He would be there waiting for me. He was always there waiting for me. And so I would end up sleeping in their bed for the night.
This is what he sang . . .
