Short Stories

No Fears

Day 1

Dark. No peak of light. No sound. Where am I? I feel constricted; trapped in a box almost. Is it daytime or night? Why does my head hurt? The last thing I can remember is talking to a new therapist then everything goes fuzzy. I try to move, but I feel something bound me tightly. I try to move again, but the intense heat from rope burn stings my skin. I'm trapped.

I've never feared anything in my life. I was never scared of people, death, small spaces, irrational fears of snakes, spiders, mice. Nothing. The only reason I went to a therapist was because I feel lost, distant, or silent. My life feels like a giant soundproof wall cutting me off from the real world.

Mid-thought, I hear the sounds of faint screaming coming from the right. Footsteps travel towards it from the left and a deep, indistinct, voice coos out loud. Listening quietly enough with only the sound of my breath being made by me, I try to make out what is happening on the other side.

"Please don't do this. No, please.", a boy's voice pleads.

"I'm going to cure you Owen. You said you were scared to die, but you wanted to commit suicide. I'm curing your fear, Owen. If you want this to stop, then stop choosing to come back."

"No, I don't want to die. I want to live. Please don't do it again. Please.", the boy cried out.

What does he mean? Die again? How could anyone die again? I'm left to my imagination as I wonder what is actually happening on the other side of this darkness. I hear loud protestful screams for only a minute then they slowly quiet.

"One day, you will learn Owen. You will be cured.", the man sighs, exasperated.

The footsteps walk farther from where I am as they fade from my hearing. The sound of a large door slams shut and I am left to assume I am alone once more.

Day 2

It was a rough sleep. It was too difficult to get comfortable in the confines of a tight space and the ropes that burned my skin with every sliver of movement. Though I feel dreadfully tired, my eyes are peeled open and my body is wide awake. Maybe it's because of the subtle anxiety that fills my void of feelings from the burning agony that kills me to know where I am and why I am here; but whatever it may be, my curiosity drives me to know one question that has been racing through my mind since before I slept (whatever that time may be since I don't have even the slightest hint to tell me). What did the boy mean by dying again. What happened. Before I am given another opportunity to ponder upon this absurd thought once more, the sound of the same heavy footsteps hitting a tiled floor echo near. Whoever was here yesterday was returning. As the footsteps reach closer to my unknown destination, I can hear the faint painful whimpers of a young girl pleading and shivering.

"N- no m-more. I- I- I'm cured. I'm not scared a- a- anymore. P- please b- believe me I can g- go home now. I- I- I'm cured.", the voice of a young girl quivered.

"You're not cured, Annabelle. I'm sorry, but you're still scared. Your voice is quivering from the fear."

"N- n- no, I- I'm shivering because the water is cold. Believe me... please. I'm not afraid of drowning anymore. Please b- believe me."

"One more session Annabelle, then maybe you can go home tomorrow. For now, we need to get you warm."

They are only a few feet from where I'm forced to rest. The sounds of a body hitting a mattress fill the small bit of space I have. I can hear the sounds of the man's footsteps heading to my left just like yesterday. The only difference, I can't hear the boy screaming or pleading. I listen intently, curious as to whether he's alive or not. There is a painful silence except for the rapid thumping of my own heart and the quickness in my breath on the verge of hyperventilation.