Birthday party after birthday party they are all the same, laugh at the clown with the white face. The little children screaming and running asking you to "dance, dance, dance" when all you want to do is cry , cry , cry. You just reached a breaking point and today was that day.
I storm out of the hall the white paint cracking on my face and think how I could stop being a laughingstock. I am not a joke for children to laugh at I am powerful and someone how should be in the houses of parliament banning children from laughing at me.
"Excuse me I have paid for a whole 4 hours"
"And I am not a joke"
"I will report you to your boss"
"Good luck with that"
I break the stair spindle off and throw it at the mother it stabs her in the heart she falls to the floor and bumps down the stairs one at a time and lands Right on my shoes I kick her off and walk into the streets of London. I dance down the street I wipe the makeup off with my sleeve the white makeup smears all my purple jacket. I hear the sirens behind me but I don't look back.
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