Christian

#8 "Scarred by a scare"

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment
(1 John 4:18a)

The rest of the days, and weeks, and months, that followed that horribly terrible night were covered by dark clouds void of silver lining. I was always looking behind me as I always felt a presence looming ominously behind me in shadows.

I was not afraid that I killed Rex. In fact, I owned up to the fact. But my Diana felt alive around my. I dreamed about her, that she was on my bed, only for me to wake up and find that no one was there.

My gang mates noticed my gloominess. They didn't know I had killed Rex already. They told me to cheer up that a Daredevil could always get any girl his eyes caught. I always smiled and told them I agreed but that disturbed look on my face kept my jaw stiff.

I drank to help me forget my misery and fear. But drinking was not enough. Soon, I started taking hard drugs. They were so effective until they lost their effect. I could see the world as roses and sunshine again. I was always laughing and happy. But when it the chemical substances in the drug stopped dancing on my dying brain, I was left alone to feel down and afraid.

One shocker made me pack my bag and baggage and run far away from school. I was dressing up to leave my off campus self contain. I had a crucial paper to write. I was already hoping that I would be able to write something as I hadn't had time to study for the exams. My phone began to buzz on my study table. I collected it from the table and checked who it was that was calling.

It was Diana's number!

At first, beads of perspiration and goosebumps appeared on my skin. I was afraid. Didn't she die? Was dead Diana calling me? But then I felt thankful. So she was alive?

I smiled and picked the call.

"Hello?" I greeted.

"You fool!" a cold, masculine voice boomed from the other end, "Are you still the devil's favourite now?"

I felt a lump of fear dance in my throat. The only person who could ask me that question was no other person than that Rex. Now the questions that began to bombard my head were hadn't I killed this guy? Was he so insolent to the point of disrespecting Death?

"Rex?" I managed to call him.

"You thought I died?" there was mockery in that question, "You had better watch your back, Chris! I'm coming for you! Murderer!"

Before I had the chance to say something, the line went dead. Many things ran through my mind. Would he pin me to the murder? Would I go to prison? Was he really alive?

I didn't want to stick around to find out. I threw all my clothes and important belongings into my travel bag and ran to the nearest bus stop, deliberately forgetting my crucial paper for that day.

After all, it is a living man that writes exams, isn't it?

Fear is not afraid to scare...think about it
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