I'm Not Scared, YOU'RE Scared!

The forest was alive with whispers. Trees creaked as though sharing secrets, the wind rustled through the leaves like hurried gossip, and the shadows seemed to lean in, listening. Most animals hurried home before dusk. But not Rabbit.

Rabbit was bold—at least, that’s what he liked everyone to think. He hopped through the forest, chest puffed, ears straight, always ready with a laugh whenever others mentioned monsters, ghosts, or things that go bump in the night.

“Me? Scared?” Rabbit would scoff. “Ha! I’m not scared. YOU’RE scared!”

And with that, he’d wiggle his nose and hop away, proud of his courage. Or at least, the courage he pretended to have.

The Boast

One sunny afternoon, Rabbit was bragging louder than ever.

“You should’ve seen me yesterday!” he told Squirrel and Hedgehog, who listened with wide eyes. “I went right past the Old Oak Hollow. Everyone knows it’s haunted, but not me. I wasn’t scared one bit!”

“Really?” Hedgehog asked, shivering. “But the Old Oak Hollow is so dark and deep!”

Rabbit smirked. “Dark, deep, spooky—none of that scares me.”

Just then, Bear lumbered over. Now, Bear was Rabbit’s best friend, and unlike Rabbit, Bear wasn’t one to brag. In fact, Bear was a little… cautious. He liked safe paths, familiar trails, and warm dens.

“What’s all this about?” Bear asked.

Rabbit grinned. “We’re talking about fear, and how I’m not scared of anything.”

Bear tilted his head. “Not even the Old Oak Hollow?”

Rabbit puffed out his chest. “Especially not the Old Oak Hollow.”

Bear blinked slowly, then nodded. “Good. Then you won’t mind going there tonight. With me.”

Rabbit’s ears drooped for half a second before he caught himself. “Me? Mind? Ha! I’m not scared. YOU’RE scared!”

But inside, Rabbit’s stomach flipped.

The Dare

As twilight draped the forest in purple shadows, Rabbit and Bear set off toward the Old Oak Hollow. The other animals whispered behind them.

“Rabbit is so brave,” Squirrel said.

“Or foolish,” Hedgehog muttered.

The deeper they went, the darker it grew. The air smelled of moss and mystery. Every twig snap made Rabbit’s ears twitch.

“Did you hear that?” Rabbit whispered.

Bear yawned. “It’s just the wind.”

“Wind? Ha! I knew that. I wasn’t scared. YOU’RE scared!” Rabbit replied, though his voice squeaked a little.

They walked on. An owl hooted overhead, low and haunting.

Rabbit jumped three feet in the air. “Who-who’s there?!”

Bear chuckled. “It’s just an owl, Rabbit. Owls live in trees.”

“I know that!” Rabbit stammered. “I wasn’t scared. YOU’RE scared!”

But his heart was thumping like a drum.

The Hollow

Finally, they reached the Old Oak Hollow. The tree stood massive, ancient, and twisted, its hollow mouth gaping like a tunnel into another world.

Bear stopped. “Here we are.”

Rabbit’s legs wobbled. The hollow was darker than night, deeper than his imagination dared go.

“Well?” Bear asked gently. “Shall we go in?”

Rabbit gulped. “In? As in… inside?”

Bear nodded. “That was the dare, wasn’t it?”

Rabbit forced a laugh. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I go in? I’m not scared. YOU’RE scared!”

And before he could talk himself out of it, Rabbit hopped right into the hollow.

Inside the Darkness

The hollow swallowed him whole. Inside, it was damp, chilly, and echoing with strange sounds. Rabbit’s nose twitched wildly, trying to catch familiar scents.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Water dripped somewhere in the dark.

Scraaaatch.

Something clawed against the bark.

Rabbit froze. His ears quivered. His heart pounded. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t move.

Then—“Boo!”

Rabbit screamed so loudly, the forest birds took flight.

But it wasn’t a ghost. It was Bear, laughing so hard he nearly fell over.

Rabbit’s fur bristled. “That wasn’t funny!” he snapped.

Bear wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, Rabbit. But you should’ve seen your face!”

Rabbit crossed his arms. “I wasn’t scared. YOU’RE scared!”

But Bear smiled knowingly.

The Truth Comes Out

They sat in the hollow for a while, listening to the sounds of the forest. Finally, Bear spoke.

“Rabbit, it’s okay to be scared.”

Rabbit frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Bear said softly, “I was scared too.”

Rabbit blinked. “You? Scared? But you’re so big and strong!”

Bear shrugged. “Even big, strong bears get scared. Fear doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you care about being safe.”

Rabbit’s ears drooped. “So… it’s not bad to be scared?”

“Not at all,” Bear said. “The only mistake is pretending you’re not.”

Rabbit thought about this. All his boasting, all his “I’m not scared, YOU’RE scared!” moments—maybe he was just trying to hide how he really felt.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to hide anymore.

The Roar of Laughter

A sudden rustle came from deeper in the hollow. Rabbit’s fur stood on end. Bear tensed.

Then—a family of bats swooped out, fluttering past them in a rush of wings.

Rabbit yelped and grabbed Bear’s paw. Bear yelped and grabbed Rabbit’s ear. They both froze, staring after the bats.

And then—they burst out laughing.

They laughed until their bellies ached, until their fear melted into something else. Something brighter.

Because in that moment, they realized the truth: they were braver together.

The Lesson

When they finally left the hollow, the stars were sparkling above them. The other animals were waiting, eyes wide.

“Well?” Squirrel asked. “Did you go inside?”

Rabbit grinned. “We sure did.”

“And?” Hedgehog whispered.

Rabbit looked at Bear, then back at his friends. For once, he didn’t feel the need to brag.

“It was scary,” he admitted. “Really scary. But we went in anyway.”

The animals gasped.

“And you know what?” Rabbit continued. “That’s what courage really is. Not pretending you’re not scared. But doing the thing—even when you are.”

The animals nodded, impressed.

Bear smiled proudly. Rabbit had found his voice, and this time, it was honest.

Conclusion: Courage Isn’t the Absence of Fear

“I’m Not Scared, YOU’RE Scared!” might sound like a silly story of dares and hollows, but at its heart, it’s about something we all face: fear.

Fear of the dark. Fear of the unknown. Fear of looking weak.

But the story of Rabbit and Bear reminds us of an important truth: courage isn’t the absence of fear—it’s the choice to move forward despite it. It’s holding someone’s paw when the bats fly past. It’s laughing together in the dark. It’s admitting, “Yes, I’m scared”—and stepping into the hollow anyway.

Because when you share your fear, it doesn’t make you smaller. It makes you braver.

And sometimes, the bravest words of all aren’t “I’m not scared.” They’re:

“I’m scared. But I’ll do it anyway.”