As a young girl, I was curious. And by young, I mean eleven. I always wondered about mental illness... but the thing that always got me most was fear. I didn't see why people were afraid of things.
I have no real fears. If my mom threatened to punish me for not cleaning my room, that's a different story. But I had no phobias. Darkness was nice to relax in. I had no irritation of being in cramped areas. Animals and bugs alike didn't make me stay up all night.
So one day, I thought of something. I wondered how long it took a mind to realize that there phobia was right in front of them. I wanted to test this out on my friend, Rebecca. She never came over to my house because we had four dogs, which she is afraid of.
I called her up and told her that we would keep our dogs in my room. She reluctantly came over for a sleepover. My parents were out on a date and would be back at midnight, giving me plenty of time to test my friend out.
We watched TV for about ten minutes before I asked Rebecca to get something in my room.
"What about the dogs?" she fretted. I chuckled and shook my head.
"Don't worry, dude. I moved them to the garage. I'll go with you if you're gonna be a wussy." I snorted. Rebecca shot me a spiteful glance before getting up and going to my room. I followed her very, very closely, almost treading on her feet. When we reached my door,
I opened it, shoved her inside, and closed it, holding the door tightly. My dogs started yapping in excitement. Rebecca's screams echoed through my ears. It told me how much she feared the adorable little things.
I didn't feel like rescuing her. The screams... they sounded wonderful in my ears. The begging that followed only made me hold the door tighter. "Moni, please let me out!" Rebecca screamed. I didn't let go of the doorknob.
Suddenly, it got quiet. My dogs even settled down for a second, though I could still hear their stubby tails thumping the carpet. I began laughing as I flew open the door. "Rebecca, you little baby, I can't believe you're afr-" My stomach sank as I saw blood splattered on the walls.
Rebecca was lying on the floor, with the scissors from my crafting bucket in her throat.
I began shaking in fear as her body grew stiff and a gruesome smell hung in the air. With the door open behind me, my dogs ran out, the dogs ran out and began exploring the house to search for potato chips me and Rebecca left on the floor.
I checked the clock on my nightstand. 11:30. I had left Rebecca in my room for two whole hours.
I ran oout and left the house through the backyard. I hopped the fence after a lot of failed attempts. From there, I ran. I left the neighborhood, running like a maniac through the streets. I got a few looks from bikers, but kept running. The adrenaline rushing through my body prolonged my pace. Eventually, I reached the town park.
I ran in, cutting through the park in a minute or two. Eventually, I reached some alleyways, where I was then too tired to even move. My insides were on fire.
I rested on the ground. It took a few hours before I felt better, and I started running again. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I collapsed in the forest, trembling terribly. I drifted off to sleep.
in the morning, I began building a shelter. Since society wasn't too far, I managed to sneak tools such as nails and hammers past the security systems with ease.
I had to sleep on the floor, which wasn't fun, but at least I had covered the ground with wood.
something about the night Rebecca died tempted me to watch more people die from what they feared.
I put a nail in one of the walls, and hung a kitchen knife that I had stolen to cut more wood on the nail.
Other than the knife, my new, makeshift home was empty.
Perfect.
I spent the rest of the next day stealing things like rats, spiders, and other common phobia-objects. I kept them all in tanks and boxes in the back of the house. I ran out to the busy streets of my town and caught the attention of a man.
"Excuse me, sir, do you have a moment?" I asked politely. The man looked down at me and smiled. "Why of course. What is it?"
"I'm taking a study on fear. Would you please follow me?"
I led the man to the forest. He seemed a bit concerned, so he asked me my full name.
"Monica Lee Sandburn, sir. But don't worry, this'll be very quick. You said you were afraid of being in a confined room?" I double-checked.
The man nodded uncertainly.
I led him in the hut and pushed him inside gently. He was already shaking. "Miss? I don't like this..."
I smiled and shut the door closed. From the outside, there was a lock where I could just slip the wood through two handles to keep the tightly shut.
The man began walking around, from what I heard. I laughed as he began calling my name.
"Miss, how do I get out!" he screamed after a long hour of groans and cries.
"There's only one way out." I growled. The man halted, and I was positive he was staring at the knife on the wall. I could hear his tears and sniffling.
"You can't keep me here forever!" he screamed.
"Oh yes, I can." I laughed. "What will you eat, or drink?"
I listened for anything else other than his sobbing. Finally, after about a whole day, I heard the knife slowly slide off the nail and rip through flesh. I peered in through a little eyehole and saw that he was definitely dead.
I dug a pit behind the house. It took a few days, but I finally managed to make it big enough to dump bodies in.
It was time to begin my study of fear.
