Terror

There's fear in everything. Some fear things people would call nothing. Like butterflies. (Those things are really ugly up close though. We've all seen that one SpongeBob episode with Wormy.) Others fear what people would call more. Like death and surgery. But when it comes right down to it it's all just fear. Of course, there's that sickening type of fear. The one that never goes away, the one that follows you everywhere no matter what you do. I'm talking about terror. Pure unadulterated terror. Like fear, terror can be derived from many things. Bugs, the ocean, animals, flowers, and well people. People like the strangers on the street. It could be the woman you passed by today. Later you could find that after a short conversation with her, she got arrested for butchering her people in her basement. You'll always wonder if you would have been next. That type of fear could follow you everywhere.

Then, there could be the terrors of your own home. Every night you could fear not the monster under your bed but the very monsters in the room across from yours. Every step is painstakingly calculated. Every breath is breathed in trepidation. Any tone taken with you sets off the danger setting in your body then you're flooded with it. TERROR. Nothing but terror. And all that took to set you off was a simple tone. A tone of voice with a promise to talk to you tomorrow. About what? You don't know but it's enough to send you reeling. Terror can do funny things to a person. It can make you run, fight, or hurt yourself. It could break you mentally. One tone of voice is all it took. Some call that less others call it more. Other times it's not a voice but merely the presences that sets you on edge.

Their very presence affecting you. It's a crushing weight. It sends everything in you exploding into terror. You can't move, you can't run you can't think, you can't even blink. Everything is blank but the terror you're feeling. And there's no escape. No, no, no! That would be far too easy and life's not easy, is it? Everything is heavy, your lungs don't work, your drowning. When they leave that's when you can breathe. But it comes out in thick, barely contained tears. You don't even know why you're crying. You just know everything hurts and you feel the only escape is the eternal one. You think no one will care, that it'll be better that way. Thankfully, you never go through with it you find someone or something to live for.

Then there's the other kind of terror. The one that comes from beatings and harsh spoken words that drag you down to the brinks of hell. This one oh, this one is the absolute worse one you can feel. Because this one is like an infection. It hurts, bleeds, and sucks the life out of everything it touches. It's a constant battle of keeping yourself sane with this one. One minute everything's fine but as soon as you so much as move the "wrong way" to them, the terror comes back tenfold. Because to them everything is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG! It's all wrong and will always be wrong. But of course, around other people it's all smiles. All smiles and praises that one. You can't help but feel that scathing anger in you, the one that masks the terror just for a moment. The one that caused the very scars on your wrist. They won't even fade this time, but you can't bring yourself to care. The anger is always gone when the very cause of your terror beings it reign anew. Honestly, by now you think the terror consumed you and there's no escape in sight.