Young Writers Society

*This is fanfiction based on the Creepypasta “Laughing Jack”, created by Snuffbomb. It is supposed to read like a Reddit post. There is horror, gore, and the F word is said once. Gacha Club character designs are on my wall. This story is under my folder titled “Creepypasta Stuff”. Enjoy!*

People usually associate nursery rhymes as being happy-go-lucky meaningless songs for children. That’s how I used to look at them, a long time ago.

That all changed when my little sister, Tina, started talking about her “imaginary friend”. He was a tall clown with messy black hair. He had a “funny pointy nose” as Tina would have said. He wore black and white. From the drawings I saw, his nose was also black and white striped. His name was Laughing Jack.

Me and our parents found it a little weird that her imaginary friend was a clown, considering the reputation clowns have today. She was only six years old when she started bringing him up. But since he was her “best friend”, we didn’t say anything about it.

Everything was fine and dandy for a while.

Until her drawings were just scribbles of red, black, and white. Until she started humming the tune “Pop goes the weasel” even though she never sang that song before. (This may come as a shocker to some, but Tina was never one for nursery rhymes. She liked singing songs she heard on the radio to sound “cool” like me. I used to be so annoyed with her for that).

I once heard another voice in Tina’s room when I was leaving the bathroom. It sounded like an evil clown. I was pretty spooked, so I didn’t say anything about it.

I should have though, because the drawings got worse, the humming was more frequent, and she started to have night terrors.

She would wake up in the middle of the night and sleep in my room. I asked her why she did it and she just said “Laughing Jack will kill me if I sleep in my room.”

I let her sleep in my room. I fought with Mom to not make Tina sleep in her room, as Mom was so fed up with what I was doing. She said that Tina needed to “face her fears”.

One night Mom made Tina sleep in her room.

I remember that night so clearly. There was moonlight streaming through my window. I was wearing my favorite pair of pajamas. This lavender set of a tee-shirt and shorts. There were crickets chirping outside. It was just so peaceful.

Then I heard this wheezy, creaky version of “Pop goes the weasel”. It reminded me of old floorboards and attic doors opening and closing on their own. Call me crazy, but that’s what I thought of when I heard it.

There was this guttural laugh and loud, booming footsteps on the ground. They sounded like heavy boots.

I can never imagine stuff like that. Never. Not even as a child. I’m just not that type of person. Tina was, but not me.

I pushed the covers off my bed and jumped off so fast. I practically sprang out of bed.

I heard a door creak open and Tina screaming at the top of her lungs. I was already out my door and running down the hall. I saw my parents sleeping through their open door. They looked like they were in a nightmare with how they tossed and turned, but they didn’t wake up until it was too late.

I got to Tina’s room. You’ll never guess what happened.

The door was locked. Tina never closed her door and we did not have locks in her door. My parents never believed in padlocking our rooms.

Tina kept screaming louder and louder, but the laughter and the music screeched over her voice. I could hear her crying, too. I think I started crying, but I don’t remember. I was twelve then. I remember everything about Tina during that night, but I don’t remember much about myself that one night.

I do remember how frightened Tina was and how I fumbled with her doorknob, something I never struggled with until that night.

After a while, I finally opened the door.

I saw him.

The clown.

Laughing Jack.

He was staring at me. The creep was staring straight at me. He was covered in Tina’s blood. He looked just like how he did in her drawings. A nightmare clown.

And then he smiled.

He had such sharp, bloody teeth. They were sharper than anything I’ve ever seen. They were just so...ugh. I saw candy and bits of flesh in them too. I don’t know if I imagined it, but I thought I saw maggots in there as well.

It was just so awful. It hurts me even to describe it, but I’m sick of having these nightmares, so I’m hoping that there are people out there who will read this and understand my pain.

Tina’s guts were everywhere, like some cheap horror movie. They were smeared all over her room. My left foot was next to her heart.

He disappeared. I was left alone with Tina.

Where was Tina?

She was hanging off the ceiling. Her hands were nailed to the ceiling. Actually nailed. Her body was gutted out. Please excuse my language, but she was hanging off there like some kind of fucking trophy.

I didn’t leave her room that night, even though the stench overwhelmed my nose. I stayed there all night, looking at Tina’s body. I didn’t want to leave her, I guess.

Our parents woke up the next morning. They found me sitting in front of Tina’s closet door.

We didn’t say anything to each other, but they knew what happened. I could see it in their eyes.

I got sick because of being in a room with blood and guts, but that sickness only lasted two months.

People don’t know that Laughing Jack murdered Tina. Well, they do know, but they don’t believe us. Only reason I haven’t been sent to an asylum is because we all moved away. We changed our last names.

I need help.

Tina is right next to me as I write this. She’s crying, like she always does.

She needs help.

Is there anything anybody can do?