by Billy Miner
Not too much later, the beekeeper gave me a suit. The suit included some kind of helmet and thick layers that would protect me from the bees. He asked me if I was ready and I nodded.
Outside, we saw hundreds of bees, all kept within a certain perimeter.
“It’s an interesting job, getting the honey out. The beehive is their nest. It has thousands of holes. Didn’t you mention you were afraid of bees?”
“It’s not the bees I am afraid of,” I said as I saw some bees flying against my helmet. “They’re not that scary. Besides, I am protected.”
“Then what?”
“I am afraid of the beehive.”
“Huh?”
There it was: The beehive.
It was huge. Bees were swarming all around it, but those scary holes were the things I was afraid of. The beehive looked like one of the scariest things I would ever touch, but I was going to do it.
“So why are you afraid of the beehive? The beehive doesn’t sting.”
“It’s the holes,” I said as I approached the monstrous-looking object.
“Oh, but they are harmless,” he said. “See?” He said it while poking his finger in a few holes.
It looked super easy, but it still made me nervous. I noticed I was sweating a little. I was uncomfortable with the feeling, but I still pressed forward with courage in my heart. I stretched out my hand, then my finger… and…
I poked the beehive. First with my eyes closed; then, as I kept touching it, I opened my eyes. It wasn’t so bad. It didn’t attack me… the bees were attacking me, since they didn’t like me to touch their beehive, but I ignored those. The beehive was safe. It looked weird, but I was okay with it.
Was I cured?
I was cured!
I had overcome my fear!
I shouted it out.
“Yay!”
I almost took my suit off and ran away, but the beekeeper stopped me just in time. He reminded me to keep my suit on and looked at me in a strange way, as if I was a little crazy. I didn’t care. I wasn’t afraid of holes anymore. Maybe my fear wasn’t as strong as the psychologist had said. It was over now.
Entry 2: The Dark
It was that one day that it was late and I didn’t get home on time. I had stayed at a friend’s place for too long, so now I was faced with the dilemma of facing the obscure shadows of the night.
I hated it.
I was scared.
Why was the dark so scary? Perhaps because in the dark, your vision is limited. You don’t know what’s coming, so any threat is undetected until it is too late. I was terribly afraid of the dark. I had heard of zombies, endermen, creepers, and other eerie creatures that lived in the woods and attacked the village every once in a while.
What if one of those creatures attacked me that night?
What if I would die?
I couldn’t even imagine how horrible that would be. It scared me to death… well, not literally of course, but I felt it as I walked home. Unfortunately, the other kids at the party were headed in a different direction, so there was nobody who could accompany me to my parents’ house.
The dark was everywhere. It wasn’t pitch black, since some of the homes in the village had a light, and the moon was shining brightly, but I still thought it was chilling and terrifying.
I heard a sound from the left side and jumped up.
“Wh-what was that?” I stammered.
It was nothing really; just a cat that had fallen off a trash can. I think that was the first time I ever saw a cat not land on its feet. It was sad to see how the silly pet crashed on its face after losing its balance. Sad but kind of funny, I had to admit.
Our house was on the outskirts of the village, close enough to be see but still a half mile away from everyone else’s. That’s because we were farmers. My dad had a lot of land around the house and he tried to use it to our advantage. It was all fine, and I didn’t mind the walking, but now it was awful. Why? Because everything between the village and the house was pitch black with a small glimmer of light from the moon, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to following the road to our house.
The path was crooked. I wish they would have made it straight, but it wasn’t, and there was nothing I could do about it.
A bird flew by. It was a big, fat crow.
“Khaa! Khaa!” it said.
Spooky.
Then I heard rustling leafs from a lonely tree in the field. My imagination went crazy. I already saw the tree’s arms form claws and come closer to grab me. It had glowing eyes. A wide mouth in the tree trunk appeared in my mind. As it was holding me in the air, as my feet and hands were dangling high above the ground, the tree brought me closer to him, opened up its creepy mouth with fangs on up- and the downside, and was about to throw me into its foul mouth without further ado.
“Nooo!” I yelled.
It was only my imagination. It didn’t really happen, but it felt real to me. I started running for my life, away from the tree. I ran towards the house. A few more minutes maybe… then I would be home, safe and sound.
But then I stopped. I didn’t want to run away from things that weren’t real. I didn’t want my imagination to take the best of me. It had to stop. I had to overcome this fear as well. I was so proud that I had touched the beehive; if I could do that, I could do this too. There had never been any crime reported on these fields before, so close to my home. And the chances of it happening now were slim. That thought didn’t comfort me enough, since there was still a chance, but the thought of me coming home with an all-powerful feeling of overcoming my fear of darkness was engraved on my mind. It felt wonderful.
So this is what I did: I closed my eyes and just stood there.
I kept standing there. The temperature was okay, so it wasn’t like I was going to catch a cold or something. All I had to do, was keep my eyes closed and not move a muscle.
I heard a sound again. What was that?
No.
“Resist the temptation. Keep your eyes closed. Don’t look. It’s not real. It’s not important. You are safe here.”
Those are some of the things I told myself as I kept my eyes shut.
But then, the ultimate test came. I heard something approaching me. It wasn’t my imagination; I was sure about that. It was a real being, whatever it was. It came closer. I could hear its footsteps come so close that it was only a few feet away from me. I was too curious, but I breathed deeply.
Then I slowly opened my eyes.
It was another cat.
“Stupid cat,” I said. “Trying to terrify me by following me home. Ughh…”
I felt like kicking the annoying animal, but I held back and left it alone. Then I looked back. I saw the tree.
“That is the ultimate test,” I said to myself.
I walked back and went to the tree. At first, my imagination went wild again. I could see the arms, the claws, the grip, the evil eyes and the open mouth with sharp teeth. But I kept walking. I knew it wasn’t real, although it sure seemed like it. I was really close this time and I reached out my hand.
Then I touched the tree.
The mouth, claws, and sinister eyes vanished instantly.
It was just a tree.
I smiled.
I went home and opened the door. My mom was in the living room. I was so happy that I had taken the initiative to confront myself with my fears that I expressed my joy in a rather loudly manner.
“Yes!” I yelled.
My mom came into the hallway.
“Could you keep quiet please? You scared me to death! Why on earth would you yell like that?”
“Nothing, mom,” I said.
Entry 3: Germs
The next day, I was at school. I didn’t think I had any more fears to overcome. I had already conquered two. But later I realized how many fears I actually had. It was crazy how many threatening circumstances the human mind is afraid of.
We were in class.
“Teacher, can I go to the bathroo
m?” I asked after raising my hand.
“Sure. Go ahead, Stevie” the teacher said. She didn’t care as long as there was one person from her class in the bathroom at the same time.
I went to the bathroom and started feeling sick. I looked around me and experienced a sensory overload. There were germs everywhere! Aaaaah! I had learned about those tiny invisible creatures through biology classes, but for some reason the invisibility of them didn’t make up the difference. They could make me ill, so they were dangerous. But where were they? They were all over the place, right?
After I was done, I washed my hands for more than 5 minutes, which the average kid would be finished with within 1 minute. I just had to make sure my hands were clean and that no germs were touching me. The flu had been going around, as well as lice, those eerie pests that appear in your hair and lay eggs there. Yuck!
I opened the door and touched the doorknob in the process. Oh no! Now I have germs on my hands again.
Another 5 minutes of washing my hands went by. Then I took a paper towel and put it on the inside of my hand, so I could open the door without touching the doorknob with my hand.
I walked through the hallway as I went back to my classroom. A teacher walked by.
“Aaatshooo!” he sneezed.
Disgusting, all those germs flying through the air. At least he covered his mouth, which is what I think everybody should do when they sneeze or cough; but I still felt awkward about it. Surely some of those germs went through the fingers of his hands, did they not?
So I went back to the bathroom and washed my hands again, this time for at least 10 minutes. I wasn’t going to catch the flu. No way.
When I entered the classroom, my teacher looked at me with big eyes. Then she looked at her watch, then at me…
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“The bathroom,” I said.
“Why did it take so long?”
Then one of the kids spoke up, “Because he had to go number 2!”
Everybody laughed. Girls were giggling, boys were gossiping.
“Still,” the teacher said. “It’s longer than I expected. I want to talk about it after class.”
The children kept laughing. It became louder and louder.
“Get back to work!” the teacher said.
Silence.
Later in the day, school was over. The teacher forced me to stay a little longer. When the last child left the class, she pulled me closer and asked, “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“Well, teacher,” I said as I started. “Remember when you told us about germs in biology class?”
“Yes, but what does this have to do with anything?” she asked.
“I think I am too afraid of germs,” I said.
“Ah. I get it. You took it a little too serious what I said there. Okay, how do I say this the best way? Uhm… Remember when I told you it’s good to always wash your hands after you go to the bathroom or if they are really dirty? That advice is still valid. It’s still important, because you can wash off the germs and kill them with soap. But you don’t have to be scared of them all the time. Catching a few germs every now and then won’t always get you sick. I know people who forget to wash their hands sometimes and they only get sick once or twice per year. That doesn’t mean it’s okay to forget, but all I am saying is that you shouldn’t stress out about it. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, but where is the line then? How do you know how much you have to do?” I asked.
“Just wash your hands in the bathroom or after recess. That will be good enough for me.”
“Okay. Sounds good. One more question though. I am still afraid of the germs. How do I overcome my fear?”
My teacher thought for a while. That was a difficult question she didn’t expect. She wasn’t a psychologist, but perhaps she had an idea of how to deal with this fear. She sat there, considering several ideas, until she said, “I know. I’ve got it.”
“What?”
“Do something that is dirty but not contagious, like rolling in the mud.”
“Wow! That sounds like fun! I am going to do it right now,” I said.
I grabbed my backpack and ran out the door. There I saw it… just what I needed… a giant puddle of mud that was caused by the rain that morning and the sand that had sunken to the bottom. The thought of my mother doing my laundry and her angry face when I would come home in these muddy clothes almost held me back. But I was willing to help with the laundry. This was too important to me. I wanted to get rid of all those nervous feelings I had when touching something strange. I went for it.
I shouted for joy, dropped my backpack, and ran forward, spreading my arms like a bird spreads its wings.
“Weeee!” I said with a smile on my face before I jumped into the puddle.
Splash!
The other kids on the playground were watching me. At first, they didn’t know what to think of it, but then they got excited too. Some kids were taking off their jacket and backpack and jumped into the mud with me.
Whoops. That wasn’t what I intended to do. I wanted to tell them to stop and to go back, but I guess it was their choice. If they wanted to jump into the mud or roll around in it, it wasn’t my fault, was it?
Splashing and throwing mud was going on constantly for 15 minutes or more, until one of the teachers put an end to it and told everyone to go home. I later learned that some parents got a little upset with my teacher for suggesting such a ridiculous solution, but it cured me. I loved it, and my fear of germs had subsided.
Entry 4: Small Spaces
When I came home, the mood changed immediately. I walked towards the door and opened it. I stepped inside and called my mom.
“Hi sweetie, how was scho… what!!!!!!?” she said, completely startled by my dirty clothes. “What happened to you?!”
“It’s nothing, mom,” I said. “I just rolled through the mud.”
“You did what?!!”
“I rolled through the mud,” I said. “Haven’t you ever done that?”
She was speechless. I could tell she was looking for a way to both punish me and clean it up. I was in deep trouble. She told me to take off my clothes in the hallway and run to the bathtub to wash myself. I obeyed without talking back. Driven by the seriousness of her voice, I ran to the bathroom and turned on the water. It wasn’t long until I felt fresh and clean. My fear of germs had already left me, but I was still glad to feel rejuvenated. Still, I wasn’t sorry for what I had done, but my mom thought I should have been.
Once I got dressed, she came to tell me I was going to be punished. She ordered me to go to a tiny space underneath the stairs. It was like a pen for chickens, and I didn’t like it.
“No, mom. Please. I won’t do it again,” I begged.
“No worries,” she said. I will just leave you here for a small time period and then you can go to your room and play. If I let you go there now, you won’t even know that what you did was wrong. I still cannot believe how dirty you got yourself and no, I don’t want to know what you were thinking.”
“But mom,” I said.
“No buts. Just go,” she said.
I went underneath the staircase and she shut the door. It truly was tiny. I mean, I fit in there easily, and I guess you could stuff about 2 or 3 more people in there, but I felt like I was going to choke. I felt awful. It was too tight. It was too small.
“Moooooom!” I yelled. “Let me out of here!”
“Nope,” my mom answered. “Just a little longer. You need to realize what you’ve done, and you’re not going to get away with it.”
“But I am choking! I am choking! Ughh!”
“Oh, don’t exaggerate, please. There is enough air in there for you to stay in there for hours. I won’t keep you in there for that long.”
“But mom! Moooom!”
It was driving her nuts. It was driving me nuts. I started moving around and feeling nauseous. I was hyperventilating. I never knew it was this bad
. After a few minutes, my mom let me out. I caught my breath, pretending that I finally got some air. My mom looked at me with a surprised face. She sensed something was wrong and I think she felt a little guilty.
“I’m sorry,” she said when I acted normal again. “I didn’t know you were claustrophobic. Just go to your room. That will be all for now. I won’t put you in there again.”
I went to my room and thought about what had happened. I was suffering from claustrophobia, another thing that was bothering me and weakening me. But just like the other fears, I wanted to overcome it. Maybe if I could challenge myself and keep calm, I would be able to cope with small spaces.
And that’s what I did. I looked in the closet and pulled out a cardboard box. I put it on the floor, added some attachments to it that made it look like a castle, got a black market, scribbled a cute face on it, and covered it with a blanket. It was bigger than me, but not much, so that I could barely fit in it.
“All right, here we go,” I said as I sighed.
I climbed inside and made myself sit there for 10 minutes. Then I climbed out and waited for a while, after which I went back inside and sat there for about 20 minutes. Then 30, then 40, and so on. When I first went inside, it felt like the walls were closing on me, as if they were trying to suffocate me and crush me to pieces. But I held on and just sat there, trying to focus on other things. It didn’t take long before the squashing of the walls was gone in my mind and I could sit there peacefully for a long time.
Eventually, I fell asleep in the cardboard box on the cozy, comfy blanket, without a worry in the world.
Entry 5: Thunder and Lightning
When I was sound asleep, in the middle of the night, I couldn’t have imagined another natural consequence of how our brains are wired, another phobia, and another fear… the fear of thunderstorms.
Brombrombrom!
A loud thunder woke me up. Not too much later, I saw a lightning flash. They switched off constantly. But what I learned earlier, is that the lighting flashes appear before the boisterous noises of the thundering clouds. The tempest was wild and strong. The heavy rain that accompanied the natural elements in commotion, made it even scarier. I thought I was going to die. I covered my head with my blanket.
