We all have something to fear, no matter how small it is - it can affect us greatly...
Here is my fear - I ask you what is yours? Add your story to here.

The sun shines through the window and outside, I can see the white clouds slowly move beneath the plane.  As people listen to their music, reading a book or chatting to other passengers, I gaze out of the window and allow my mind to wonder; to let it free and watch it where it goes from a distance.

For a while, my mind is fixated on work, then on sports, then to music - but gradually it moves over to a dark area.  My mind approaches an unlocked door and hesitantly opens it, expecting something to jump out and scare it; but instead, my mind sees a dark and empty room.

Curiously, my mind edges in and finds itself in the middle of the dark room; not seeing anything except pitch blackness.  For a while, I assume there is no purpose for the room's existence, but I then realise that is my fear - not remembering anything I have done, what I have achieved.

My fear, my greatest fear is not of spiders, or of great heights - but of losing my memories.  To remember the time I first fell in love, the first time I won a competition, the first time I lost someone.  Memories filled with emotion of when I existed in the past; of when I was someone.

To lose all those memories would make me an empty shell and not be the person who I have become. All those memories mean everything to me, they have moulded me to the person who I am now; they are my past and the story of my life up to this point in time.

Fear is a dangerous thing, a dangerous enemy; something not to battle with.  And yet here I am, facing it.  I question myself if this is a game that fear enjoys playing with me; is losing my memories something that fears knows will happen?  Can fear see into the future and is telling me this will happen?

I do not know the answers - and to be honest, I do not want to know them either, I would only be entertaining fear with them.  If losing my memories becomes a reality, then so be it; there are only so many things I can stop happening, and losing my memories is something that cannot be stopped.

All that I can do within my power is to remember each day vividly, to take photographs of that point in time, to write about it in words.  These will be my memories, my story of my life - a physical existence of who I am as a person.

After all, to lose my memories would remove my existence as a person and that would destroy me. 

The End

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