Fear and Doubt and Hope and Trust.

On Friday night, as the rain pounded my windows and a damp wind crept into my house, Fear stood before me. His skinny arms crossed, his eyes slits and a smile on his lips. Doubt, fat and plump, sat on his shoulders, flapping his dull wings lazily.

Fear poked me in my ribs with his long finger and said,

“Don’t trust this man. It will all lead to pain.”

Doubt happily lifted from his spot and flew around my head chirping,

“They are all the same. They are all the same. They are all the same.”

Fear caressed my cheek, I closed my eyes, felt his cool familiar touch.

“Reject him before he rejects you.”

I sat down at my desk, dipped my pen in the ink and wrote a letter of goodbye. On the verge of sending the letter, my mother’s voice calm and clear, came to me.

“Sleep on it. Tomorrow is another day.”

I went to bed with Fear by my bedside and Doubt in triumph flying around the room.

 

Saturday morning arrived in bright sunshine and crystal clear skies. The trees shone in copper and blood. Fear stood by my bed with Doubt slothfully sleeping on his shoulder. I swiftly got out of bed.

Swatted Doubt, fat and plump, from Fear’s shoulder. He bounced surprised a few times before he crawled into a dark corner. Fear crossed his arms, threw out his chest and glared at me. I firmly put my hand on his shoulder.

“I won’t feed you anymore. I exil you!”

He poked me in the ribs again.

“You know I am right.” His word silky “Life has proven this to you.”

I gently removed his finger from my side.

“I am stronger than you. No matter what happens I always survive. Life has proven this to me.”

Fear smiled gleefully at me.

“You think you can get rid of me that easily? I will just wait right here for you to come back.”

He sat down cross legged next to my bed and leaned on the wall.

“I will wait right here for you.”

 

On Sunday morning Fear still sat next to my bed. Perhaps he looked slightly paler.  I took my lantern and searched the most secluded, most secret corner of my cabinet until I found a small pine box. I gently carried it downstairs and placed it in the sunshine  on the kitchen table. Carefully I removed the lid and the pink tissue paper. Curled up around each other Trust and Hope slept.

I leaned over the box and whispered,

“I am ready to let you out now.”

Trust opened her eyes and looked at me, yawned and stretched her kaleidoscope wings. She nudged Hope, deep in sleep. Hope rolled to her side and opened one eye, put out her tiny hand in the sunlight and in a flash she left the box. Leaped around the room a few times before she landed in my palm. She smiled brightly towards me.

“About time!” she said before she took off again.

Trust, harder to convince slowly left the box. She took a few practice steps before she walked up my arm and whispered in my ear,

“Feed me! The more I get the stronger I become.”

That night I went to bed with Hope and Trust, counting the hours until you will be mine.