Title's taken from a Buffy's Season 4 Halloween episode. The Scoobies are trapped in a house where they confront all their fears, and in the end, have to confront Fear, itself. He turns out to be a foot-tall demon. Buffy steps on it (squishy noises) and that was it. I get it. Fear is overwhelming, but it is also just a speck of a doubt, a thumbnail of worry.
Three men beat me up last Friday. 3 punches on the head. 1 in the mouth. And I think a bottle on the left side of my head, above my ear. I ran away. Scared shitless. I haven't told my family. Got home a few minutes after midnight (editing of memory ongoing) and called up Wilmer. I needed my refuge. Had to be physically away from Manila.
Sunday night and I still can't sleep. In my dreams, they had knives, or guns. Sometimes, I was actually brave and defended myself. Violence inflicted on you by a stranger is baffling. And you struggle in your head how this is at all possible. And it makes the world a very scary place to live in. Violence makes you small. I was nothing but a victim. Helpless, and crouching.
Right now, I'm trapped in this house. And I am inadequate. And I am afraid. This is the part where I learn how to deal with the fact that I am helpless.
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