Atelophobia. Autophobia. Hydrophobia. Katsaridaphobia. Lockiophobia. Obesophobia. Pedophobia. Trypanophobia.
Throw her whatever phobias you could think of, and she would eventually handle them well.
It’s the path she’s walking that she fears.
Foggy and dark, she doesn’t know where the road is leading. She has walked so far, so long, and so alone.
Once in awhile –
She caught glimpse of light and thought she’d be at the other end very soon;
She heard birds chirping and felt the fragrant of springs lingering;
She heard laughter and friendly footsteps.
They were her imagination. Playful yet deceiving. It became a torment she has to endure.
And the truth she must shoulder: darkness.
Every time she thought she is coming to an end, it was just another turning point. Every time she thought she has come to a rest stop, t’was just what’s left of a wrecked shelter. Every time she thought she could grab onto the hanging rope, it was just another broken string.
Bring me down to my knees? Push pass my point of breaking? Then watch me, as I rise back on my feet and beyond.
She tries to convince the world. Most importantly, herself.
As if the worst horror movie, the darkness keeps closing in. You know what’s scarier than darkness?
The silence that comes with. The darkness that compliments. The uncertainties that magnifies.
What scares her most?…Crystal ball can’t tell her future.
Prompted by <Daily Prompt: Fear Factor>NaBloPoMo