“Come on” I shriek back at Rory, my voice unusually high as we barrel through the woods, our feet pounding across the chestnut leaf strewn floor. Our grit covered trainers were not the only ones dashing through the murky mist. My tears and the dirt, heavy in the air, amalgamate in my eyes blurring my vision. We don't hear the knife until it strikes the tree to our right .

The clown was still at our heels. The trees started to thicken as we dodged over roots and ducked under loose branches. Rory stumbled over a log which left him over a metre further away from me. A metre closer to the clown. With blades raining down on us like they were shot from a machine gun, we hit an unexpected slope. I tripped and slid down. Rory jumped and that was when it hit him. It was as if someone had slowed time. I saw Rory turn his head as the 10 inch knife wedged itself in his forehead. He tumbled head over heels down the slope. This is what snaps me back to reality. I looked up to see he’d stopped. The clown looked up to the sky and let out a bone chilling cackle. His arms shot out stiff in front of him as massive spiders crawled out from and around him. I was already gone before I heard the sickening crunch as the spiders reached my friend. The person who was my friend.

Then I reached the exit. “There you are sweetie “Mum said. Confused, I looked back at the soft play and saw Rory walk out holding a tiny spider. “Come on, we need to pay the clown and say hello to Auntie Karen” she said. “She wants to wish you a happy 5th birthday”.