Everyone knew him by the name of ‘Clown’; no one knew his actual name.  One could see him daily passing through the lane to the lake but hardly anybody has seen him talking to anyone. There was something very unusual about his personality. He was a lonely dull person when he was walking alone. Sometimes talking to himself while walking and looking around with scared looks but an energetic funny faced clown as soon as someone passes besides him. There were two very extreme sides of him and this man somewhere stuck in between belonging to no one.
He used to wear the mask of a clown always; probably he worked in a circus across the other side of the lake. It was around 8 in the evening and he was laughing, making funny faces and doing tricks to make the fellow passengers laugh. His main focus were kids though, as they are the easiest to please.
As he peeped outside he realized the shore is approaching fast. His smile went dim suddenly as he saw it and silently took a seat in the corner. He didn’t want to go back home. This is not the first time he was behaving like this, it’s almost daily. He waved at the kids in the boat with a halfhearted smile as he stepped on the ground and started walking slowly towards the street which leads to his home. He was walking very slowly like someone has tied heavy weights to his feet.
As he entered the lane towards his home he left behind him the crowded part of the town. It was now a deserted lane with almost no one around, except a few stray dogs, his only companion in this dark. He reached out to the side pocket of his bag and took out some shredded chicken. The dogs knew he would get them something to eat as he would do daily. He bent down on his knees as the dogs came closer to give him a much needed hug. He sat on the pavement and saw his friends enjoying their supper. These stray dogs were his only family in this crowded town. As they finished their food, he too made a move towards his home.
He was about to knock at the door but then realized something and reached out to the keys in his pocket and opened the door. There was a very dim light from the bulb in the corridor. He headed to the bathroom straight away to remove his get-up of the clown. He switched on the bulb right on top of the mirror. Looked in the mirror and smiled.. the funny clown smile, but what, his eyes were telling a different story with those tears he was holding. 

He started peeling off the mask gently.It took him some efforts to look at his face in the mirror without the mask. He opened his eyes slowly and vomited the moment he saw his face in the mirror. It was the vomit of disgust; he could not handle looking at his face.
Earlier that day:

The Postman knocked at the door and said “letter for you”. With a little shock he opened the door and received the letter. He was a little startled as he hasn’t received any, for more than a decade. He flipped the letter but there wasn’t any name of the sender, curiously he opened it with his shaking hands. He was frightened because somewhere deep within he knew who the sender was.

The letter read: 
“So you thought that you will put on a mask of a clown and will run away with it.  All these years you have been hiding behind this mask but how do you face yourself when you remove it. Do you like your face when you look in the mirror?
That day when those men were raping me you were the only one who saw that. I clearly remember your face. I was looking at you and crying for help but you just stopped for a moment and then rushed away. Even in the court room you denied seeing anything. I was denied the justice because of you. I was raped twice, first, by those men and second time in the court room, you raped me of justice.
We can’t change what has happened but I want you to do something. I want you to come tomorrow and place this mask on my grave.”
The next morning he was last seen, walking towards the graveyard with the mask, in his hands.

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