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Fear

The thing about being afraid is that you never know when fear will strike. It’s like the toast in your toaster. You know that the toast will pop up-you can watch the signs of a fight before the eruption of fists and guns- but when the toaster pops up, and the fight begins, you still manage to jump.



This is what it was like for me watching my mom and her boyfriend. I saw my mom become more and more frustrated, and saw him get angrier, more jealous, and then angrier still. Though I knew it would happen eventually, I was still shocked when the shouts cut through the air like daggers. Then the thumps, not too loud, but unnerving, the kind that make you want to sit at the edge of your chair, or to play loud music and block it all out. But then they grew louder, and in the moment, it could have been elephants stampeding across the upstairs, it wasn’t the kind you tune out, not the kind you could. I started to feel that terrible, sinking feeling in your gut that makes you want to throw up. The one that always come before something bad happens.



What I had been doing at the moment was a raindrop in the rage of a hurricane. Didn’t matter, didn’t even stand a chance compared to everything else. Not sure what Rachel was doing either, but together we walked up the stairs. I was so afraid, I was almost shaking, while she was bravery and took charge. We opened the door to see our mom, a trapped bird with clipped wings-unable to fly a way from the cat. Rachel then transformed to not only bravery, but also a super hero, a better one than hose that could fly or walk up walls.



It was Rachel who had made the call, dialed those three little digits that had never scared me so much. My sister, with her new found super hero self, talked into the phone and told them of our problem. “No, won’t leave the house, no, no animals loose, no…”. Superhero Sister continued on, and then he must have heard we had actually done it, because he was gone, out the door, slamming it hard behind him. The cat had ran away, fur on end, he wasn’t so tough with the dogs around the corner.



Then after he was gone, my mom walked slowly down the moaning and groaning steps. We all waited in the kitchen, the now free bird, the Superhuman Sister- image of bravery, and the little girl who was happy that she had stood against fear and stared it in the eyes, happy she knew better days would come.





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