A four letter word that looks so small, so harmless but is in fact the opposite. How many people were forced to suffer the consequence of fear? How many had died because of this four letter word?
To me, fear comes in many forms. It can come in the form of a spider, a form of an object, the form of a person, animal or the worst of the worst, the form of your mind. You see, in this world, there is no such thing as "fear." It's your mind that makes the things up, just like how it made the word fear. Your mind is capable of harming yourself and is capable of positivity against yourself.
But even though this is meant to be about fear, I will talk about death. After all, death is still linked to fear.
Now I myself am not afraid of death but I'm afraid of my loved ones becoming victims of it. One person specifically who I didn't want to be gone just yet passed away this year and with all honesty, it's killing me inside just thinking about it. But to move on, you have to open up scars.
This guy was my best friend, my best everything. It really didn't matter what he did or who he was because to me, he'd always be the most perfect person I'd ever met.
His death is the reason why I'm afraid of cars when they speed up. His death is the reason why I loathe the existence of bridges. His death is why I hate ships, canals, ice, police, anything that reminds me of that particular incident.
It wasn't his fault though, nor the driver's. I don't know what exactly happened but he died in a car accident. I don't know if you would exactly call it a car accident. The car had driven off a bridge and dived into the water. A canal. A canal that is a part of a flowing river.
Huh, isn't that ironic? How he had died in a river whilst his name was River.
Apparently all passengers died on impact but later on, it was confirmed that if the police had come on time, one person could have survived.
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Every night, I wonder, could that person have been him? if the police had arrived on time, could he have been the one who survived?
Which brings me to my fears.
I fear speed, bridges and graves. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm still lurking about in the denial stage.
I'm not going to say that I cry myself to sleep or that I drink to forget my sorrow because then I'd be lying. You see, I don't do anything. I avoid it completely.
Ever since the day he'd died, I haven't driven a car. Sure, I'd take a ride with someone but never sit in the passenger seat. I can't. It's hard. And it's terrifying. There are days where I wish I wasn't afraid of speed so that I could drive a car. But I can't.
This one time, I cried when someone went over the speed limit of 80. I couldn't stand it because even though I wasn't in the crash, it felt like I was. All I could see was his face. The fear in his eyes. The death in his eyes when they pulled him out of the water. They're horrible memories. They say, "always treasure the last memory of your loved one." But what do they want me to treasure?
His dead body?
Or his lifeless eyes?
Or the black coloured coffin that I was forced to witness the burial of?
I used to love bridges, but now they're just a sour memory of death. I could never allow myself to go on that bridge. Any bridge.
As for the graves, I'm not afraid of them. I'm afraid of his grave. I'm afraid of the writing that'd be displayed on the stone. The flowers that would be rotting on the dirt where his body would be lying six feet under. Though, I wish I could go. If I wasn't so afraid, I would go. And maybe then I'd be at peace.
Have you ever wondered, that when you visit someone's grave, it's not just a grave? You're visiting a body. Have you ever thought about that? It might sound weird, insane even, but I don't want to visit a body. I don't want to go visiting his grave knowing that his body is right underneath me. I don't want to visit his grave knowing that it'd make his death real.
Do you know how hard it is? How hard it is to stand on the grounds of a dead person or even worse than graves, their room. You lock up the room with everything the person has ever owned because that's all you could do to get away from the heartache.
The struggle is real, especially when your fears come to life. It just shows how cruel this world is. No amount of tears or prayer would soothe your tormented mind. Nothing can bring back a life. And once a fear so deep has lodged itself into your mind, it won't escape. No matter how many doors you leave open, it stays, and feeds off you.
No one wants to go through that. No one.
I never wanted any of my loved ones to die. I always wished for the death of myself first so I don't have to go through the heartache. Through the memories. The treasures that to someone else, are seen as just clothes and equipment, but to you, are seen as the last piece of them that lives.
And you treasure it, knowing it's the only memory you have left of them, before the fear took over.
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