I was walking down the street, on my way to the bus that would take me home. The sun was up, it shone with such intensity I felt my blood burning through my veins. I was looking straight ahead to the distance. My mom taught me to chin up and never look down. Literally as well. But there were some times I felt the need to stare at the floor I was walking on, maybe to avoid gums or poop, things like that. So, I did look down, and surprise, surprise. The pavement was crowded with grasshoppers. Tons of them. They jumped around from here to there, looking green, fat and ugly. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my body froze. It stood there, paralyzed by the fear as those insects kept moving.
I was in the middle of the street, you know, where cars run and bikes go by. My boyfriend grabbed my arm and tried to make me move to the sidewalk, but he did not succeed. A few seconds after, there was a huge truck driving towards us. I turned to the right side, determined to go to the darn sidewalk and stay safe, but then I saw them. All of the grasshoppers where in there, piled together, jumping and making fun of me. I had to make a decision. It was crucial.
I took one look to that sidewalk, then to the truck. My eyes went back and forth. There was no way in hell I was going to walk over the sea of insects that made my insides crawl in despair. No, sir.
For some reason I decided to stay put in the middle of the street as the truck approached me. I was ready for it. I preferred death to a life with this little hellhounds all over my feet. That was it. I made my peace with it, closed my eyes, and heard my last thoughts.
Good bye, earth, and good luck.
Mom, dad, I love you.
Screw you, Tite…
“What the hell are you doing?” asked my boyfriend as he pulled me hard to him and made me go to the sidewalk. He covered my eyes with his hand and walked me out of there to a place safe of hell insects and murdering trucks.
That day is known as the day this idiot chose death over a path of grasshoppers. You call it fear, I call it greatness. Well, that’s a lie, for I call it fear as well. Raw, irrational, and blind fear.
What are you afraid of?