So, this all started on May 2003 - I do not remember the specific date.

There used to be a man - dressed in a clown costume - who came up to my door every Monday and knocked on it. He did nothing more, nothing less. Just knocked on my door. The man had a clown mask which had fake blood splattered on it and a clown costume with red buttons - 4 exactly - one of them missing. He wore no shoes or socks, and his feet were constantly bloody from the rocks. It creeped me out. So much.

I remember this vividly - I was 7. It must've been my brother's birthday. In our family tradition, we always stay until midnight when it's someone's birthday, so they can enjoy the entirety of it. It just so happened that it was also the first night that the Clown knocked. It was 23:59, and we were about to sing the song - when he did it.

Father and I went to get it, and my brother - who I'll call Marvin - looked out of the window.

"Da-ad? It- It's a clown! You know I don't like clow-owns!" wailed Marvin.

"I never invited a clown. Is it here to, er... celebrate with us? Ma?"

"I do not know," said mother. Our family was quite posh - and rich at that. All of us - at least I thought all of us - thought that he wanted to entertain us for money. Our house was quite big, so maybe the man realised we were rich. But after about 5 minutes he walked away.

This carried on for 2 years, all week, every Monday. Nothing changed. We got used to it for a while so we stopped checking.

Jacob Baker went missing. Our city was quite small so word got around quickly - all the way to us. The day was a Sunday - I remember that - and we were scared - Jacob lived on the other side of the road. Maybe I would go missing too? I pondered, but deep down I knew I wouldn't get kidnapped. Hopefully.

Monday night. No knocks.

"What a weird coincidence!" said Mother. "I mean, Jacob went missing... and no knocks... right?"

One and a half months go by. No knocks. It wasn't a coincidence, Jacob Baker was the clown. We forgot it after a while, and one night I went to sleep. July 2003. I was asleep in my Ma and Pa's room, because I had a nightmare.

Knock, knock, knock.

My heart leapt. I thought Jacob was gone.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Louder this time. Mother and father both woke up.

"I thought he was--?" said father. They both walked down the stairs with each a baseball bat. Marvin was sleeping soundly, he was 4 at the time. I stared at him, wondering if they were going to kidnap him (I was 7).

"Honey! Jacob Baker is back! Call 911!" I heard mom's voice.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"That isn't Jacob. It isn't. I know it isn't, trust me. Look at his fingers... they have no fingernails. They're clawed." said Father. I got up and looked down the stairs. He was looking at the camera through the door. "I know it isn't. It's... it's the same costume, though... you don't think?.. Matilda... get the children and throw them through the kitchen window. Hand me the shotgun."

I could hear mother scramble around and then I saw her, handing father a shotgun; her silver hair looked messy and tired. I crawled up and went back to ma and pa's bed. I heard her coming upstairs and I acted to sleep. I felt mother grab me by my armpits and I knew that she also grabbed Marvin. At this point is when he woke up.

"Mama? Where are we going?"

"I..." mother walked to the kitchen and I opened my eyes. She went out of the window, along with us. The gates opened as my mother kicked them over. She wasn't strong, the gates were just weak. She walked all the way to the driveway when she saw the Clown walk away. It didn't notice us. Mother came back in.

"What happened?"

"They just walked away... The monster..."

It didn't come back until 6 months later. Dad kept a shotgun next to his bed after the incident. This time, we were all asleep in our separate rooms.

Knock.

Not again...

Knock.

I heard father wake up.

Knock.

Father loaded the shotgun. This time I went downstairs with him. He didn't say a word.

"HONEY. GRAB THE CHILDREN AND GET TO THE STREETS. GO TO THE APPARTMENT COMPLEX." My memory faded after that. All I knew is that was the last time I saw my father. But not the last time I saw the clown. Every 6 months, he still comes around. About 4 years ago my mother died. Nobody is there to protect me. Marvin moved out. My wife broke up with me after she found out about the clown...

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I heard it just now. I forgot to buy bullets after the last incident. I know I might die right now if he gets me. I live on the 13th floor of the complex, so I'd be lucky if I manage to escape alive. If the clown comes around to your house, just remember these things:

1) Go downstairs before the 9th knock and wait it out in your backyard.

1a) If you live in an apartment like I do, hide in a place where the clown hadn't checked last time. I am out of hiding places.

2) Shotguns are useless. They'll just skim off of the clown's body. That's how father died.

3) If the clown finds you, do not move. There is a chance the clown won't see you.

Good luck out there.