Fear - Personal Essay

I feel my feet trembling with coldness. I open my tired collapsing eyes slightly and notice that my tinted white sheet has slipped off my legs. Sitting up, I give my long lasting everyday yawn, expanding my lengthy arms as far as I can. My pesky little cousins are sleeping peacefully next to each other. I look sideways to see through the freshly painted wooden window. The weather today is dark and gloomy, nothing like summer. The breeze feels cold and harsh. I roll over to the edge of the crooked bed. For some unusual reason I feel worn out, tired and drowsy even after a full night’s sleep. Pictures of ghosts start to circle around my unfocused head. I have a fear of ghosts, phasmophobia. I’ve had it since I was four. The doctors say I should never face any sort of fear. It might result in my death. I shake my body and thankfully all of the spooky faces disappear. I find myself smiling awkwardly with a sense of security. I’m an orphan and I have been one since I was only 4 months old. I’ve gotten used to it, I guess, and for me it’s not such a big deal. I catch a glimpse of my very familiar face on the shiny silver frame lying on the ground below me. The photograph was taken last week. You can see my sharp almond-shaped light brown eyes, which are complimenting my luscious straight brunette hair. My cheeks are the colour of ripe tomatoes, making me look as if I’m always blushing and my complexion has the lightest of tan. Not to mention, I have a perfectly round grey freckle here and there. At the bottom-right hand corner, I’ve written my name and age in my neatest handwriting, Sarah 13. As I’m examining my newly printed photograph, my youngest cousin Eylul comes inside our room screaming.

I look up and blink, not believing what I’d just seen. No matter how many times I blink Eylul is still standing there. She has blood dripping down from her small fierce eyes, tiny spiders crawling inside her wide-open mouth and large petrifying crows circling around her head. She stares straight into my astonished eyes. It feels as if she’s looking inside my soul, creeping through my heart. In extreme shock I scan her entire body. Her once-normal arms are cut open. Her skin is peeled off and her bones and veins are sticking out. Eylul’s blood colour coverts to a shade of sugary hot purple and continues to drip on the floor. I feel rapid heartbeat. It feels like my heart is going to pop out of my shivering chest any second. I scream, I scream so loud my entire body aches.

I feel trapped in a room with a cousin who has been transformed into an intimidating creepy blood-curdling creature. My vision turns blurry and my head spins. I manage to keep my eyes open and focus on the creature. She is slowly and aggressively approaching me. I hear her desperate moan and floorboard’s creak as she lunges her way across. Without a minutes delay I back away silently. Not aware of the strongly cemented brick wall behind me. I keep my eyes straight at the creature, by no means daring to blink. All of a sudden a blinding bright blue light appears behind me. The next instant I’m outside, outside the sturdily built four wall brick building. I’m safe from any sort of terrifying creature. Startled, I sigh in relief. Maybe this was just a scary thought I wonder. As I turn around to face the village I hear the very terrifyingly familiar moans. My heart skips a beat. Looking up, I gasp in fear. My dry blistered trembling mouth drops open in extreme shock.

All of my dearly humble relatives, all of the designate master independent workers, everyone is different. They are all the same daunting horrendous creatures as my cousin Eylul. A tear slithers down my dusty flushed face. I shriek with fear, my mind goes blank. Amongst the thriving mass of haunting figures, stood my Aunt. She was ingesting her son’s blood from his enlarging brain. I shook my head to get rid of the worrying view. Now tears start welling up in my panicky eyes, blurring my vision. My body shakes and trembles. The figures moan, loudly this time, their voices echo inside my ears. They don’t make a single move. I can’t go through this anymore, I will die. I feel alone, I feel abandoned. Why are they all scary now and I’m not? Why am I the only one normal?

Unexpectedly, as I’m in the middle of a herd of deadly killers, everything goes pitch black. Instead of leaning against a brick wall, hearing my relatives’ growl and shout, I feel my thin mattress. I feel my sheet tucked in either side of my tension free body. I smell the warm friendly scent of my relax room. Opening my eyes I discover that I had just suffered from a bad dream. After pinching myself three times, I finally believe that I’m alive and safe. I feel on top of the world, on cloud nine, in seventh heaven. I giggle silently, rubbing my hands together with joy and excitement. Peeking outside the window, I see the sun shining brightly and the birds chirping happily. Just as I’m about to sleep again, I notice deep dark red blood droplets dripping from the slanted, cream white ceiling above.

My head spins tremendously, my hands feel stiff and swollen and my legs begin vibrating. I clench my eyes shut. I feel like something is happening to me. Maybe it’s a result of phasmophobia? I feel like someone is here, watching me. I open my eyes just slightly. “Ghosts” I breathe out. Instead of the terrifying blood creatures the room is filled with transparent figures. All of them are over there 70’s, perhaps. The two men are slim, tall and pale. They have crooked fingers and sparkling green eyes. Both of them have arched backs and tattered fishing suits. The two women have powder white hair and faded faces. They have gleaming galaxy blue eyes and pleasant smiles. To me they all look angelic and unreal, but however they are some nasty ravenous ghosts. The door slams shut itself and harsh winds fly in through the bashing windows. The congested room is filled with an unusual earthy acid scent. They remain motionless, looking at me tensely. I grab hold of my flushed cheeks and pull them down in anger. I abruptly realise that I know these bodies. Their faces are framed in the village hall, they are my ancestors. That makes me even more perplexed. My mind spins and my weak tired body falls, landing on my bed.

“Hurry up”, they all flimsily recite, “You’re next!” They repeat. Instead of panicking, I find myself smiling at them but I’m still shaking. Shaking so much, my bed moves from one side to the other, almost tipping me over. The entire atmosphere is really dark and spooky, like the haunted houses in movies. “Hurry up, you’re next, hurry up, you’re next” I hear them in the background.