Fear

• April Puddicombe, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2013

There is nothing to fear but fear itself…
A small boy cut through the fog like a knife through butter. His breaths short and even, yet deep and fear filled. He was being chased. The beast grew near, its bone crushing jaws, its skull squeezing claws. A massive forest surrounded the child making him seem, and feel as small as a grain of sand. Terror gripped his throat choking his distressed screams out in a painful squeal slicing the thin twilight air. The dark, menacing figure approached, just as it always did, chasing him through the dark green trees entwined like the threads of a shirt. His back pack thumped against his spine like hands on a drum, his heart did the same against his chest.
The soft padding of his feet and the loud thumps of the beast’s became to harmonise musically. The child ran on, his backpack becoming heavier with each painful step. The thumps of the beasts feet became louder and louder until its warm foul breath swept across his back snapping the boy into realisation that this might be the end. He ran on, tearing through the pain surging up his legs and gripping his lungs. Curiosity grabbed him by the hair whipping his head around to see the beast, Curiosity killed the cat.
He tripped landing with a soft thud on the leafy forest floor. Before his mind could even begin to collect his scattered thoughts the beast was on top of him. Tears began to fill his eyes blurring his view of the beast, but his imagination soon filled the gaps. It was massive. It’s weight crushing the child causing him to screech in pain. Its overall prescience shouted darkness, death and depression. Its mouth opened baring rows upon rows of yellow, rotten teeth and, much to the small boy’s surprise, a high pitched voice jumped from its mouth.
“Oscar! Oscar!” it screamed. His eyes sharply, flung open instantly teleporting him from the dark, damp forest to the warm bed of his bright room. He twitched violently as a large wave of perfume hit his nostrils. A teenage girl greeted him with soft eyes and a vibrant smile, her silk voice chimed “Oscar, it was just a dream, I’m here now.” Venus was her name. Her oak brown hair floated in the wind from the window like leaves on a tree. Oscar sat up whipping his head back and forth urgently searching for the beast, only to find his small stuffed monkey grinning at him from his pine wood shelf. “But there was a forest a-and a beast and it was so real, I’m safe right, Venus?” blubbered the terrified child. The siblings hugged, their arms wrapped around each other likes vines around a tree. “Oscar, its fine, you’re fine, it was just a dream, nothing will hurt you, I promise.” She looked deep into his wild, petrified, hazel eyes announcing in a soft, smooth voice, “There is nothing to fear, but fear itself.”