Categories
Horror Short Story

The thing about fear: an excerpt


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This is from a new short story, I am writing but I am stuck with it for now. I do not know how to end it. Well, that is not true, I know the ending I just do not like it right now. Well, here is an excerpt. Hope you like it, I like it thus far.

The man looked at the boy carefully, watching his movements. He was not just a spiritual counsellor,  he had graduated with a psychology degree and then later he had joined the parish, adapted a life of celibacy and was now close to retirement.

He was trying to register anything odd but so far all he had seen was fear. The boy was afraid, terribly. This was troubling. The man knew first hand what fear could do. It was the strongest element to break one’s spirit; fear was something that each man had. It was probably the only thing which all men shared in common, regardless of their race, color or creed. Fear was the curse that humans had when they were born but the strange thing about fear was, it was different for everyone. Some fears were harmless, he knew that. But even a harmless fear, when it starts to eat you from the inside, is a dangerous one. A single mother termite could eat a full scale wood home in nine thousand years. And that was how fear operated, slowly and surely. Sometimes, the damage done was irrecoverable.

He hoped the boy would tell him. Most of the times, children are afraid of their own imagination. Just past month he had convinced a child that there was no such thing as a monster under his bed.

In part he was telling the truth but he had also lied. It was true there was no monster under his bed, the boy had just seen two scary movies back to back and so he was afraid.

But the man also knew that monsters existed, not in the same sense as people assumed them to be but nonetheless. They were mostly seen by children too.

Categories
Bible Christian Inspirational

I am still a loser


Image courtesy of asiansinglesolution.com

“Can I go to the bathroom?” these were the words which I dared not utter while desperately trying to control my bladder. As I sat there in the first grade classroom, I was nervously looking around at other children. No one else was asking for bathroom breaks so the fact that I was made me shrink with shame. I am not sure how I got that idea but I can tell you it was there. A four year old boy could not express himself. Somehow I felt that if I asked, everyone will look at me and laugh at me. It was the fear of being different than the crowd around me that made me nervous and I held it for like 2-3 hours I suppose.

And it didn’t end there. I was afraid to ask for help, I could not ask help, not even from the teacher. Because that also implied that I was “not enough”, that I lacked something, that I was unintelligent. I could not ask my parents because well, what will they think what kind of a brain-dead child they have? All other children seem to do fine.

Well, I realize now that isn’t the case but as a child I just did not know.

I remember the first time I entered a sprint race. I was 4 or 5, I remember everyone being on the starting line. I was nervous, I was afraid but I thought I can do it, even if I don’t win, I will try my best.