Clown Wraith

Every year on your birthday, you felt someone's gaze on you. You turned eighteen, and returning from a celebratory dinner, you chatted cheerfully with your friends, unaware that a clown stood frozen in the shadow of the archway across the street. He looked at you with pride, as if you were a blossoming flower that he had silently watered for seven long years. He had been watching you since the first day you came to the fair, where you had celebrated every birthday since your first arrival seven years ago. He had become obsessed with you over the past seven years, from the moment you entered the circus and always watched its performances with joy, where he would look at you and constantly call you on stage. He watched and noticed everything. He became your shadow over these seven years.