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Fear

Harley · 2005-04-20T20:24:02Z

Fear Fear. I’m not talking about a scary movie; I’m not talking about Stephen King novels. I’m talking total, utter terror, the kind that makes your body freeze and your mind think the worse. Franklin D. Roosevelt once said “There is nothing to fear but fear itself.” I don’t agree. My fear was rational, and quite common, but it almost stopped me from saving my best friend. I knew he was innocent; he couldn’t be anything but. Nate would never kill somebody. Those warm eyes and that loving heart, that’s what drew me to him at first. He was… different. Macho enough to not understand my problems, yet sensitive enough to care, as if we shared this special bond that would never be broken, nor understood. So, that’s why, on the night I saw his only chance of freedom getting dumped into that shark-infested lake, I was determined to get it back. Nate had been accused of murder. A boy at our school, called Daniel, had been brutally killed, and Nate was the prime suspect, as he and Daniel were never the best of friends… Okay, they hated each other’s guts. Something to do with, something… I didn’t like to get to involved. Anyway, Daniel had been shot, with a gun the tough guys liked to call a “Saturday Night Special”. It was available to 16-year-olds upwards, so they got their hands on it easily. I’d been asked to give a statement, and I tried to tell the police about Nate, but I got some guy who wouldn’t believe me. Apparently I was biased. Seeing his brother Andrew dumping that surveillance tape was like a knife piercing through my heart. I tried to explain what I’d seen, thinking that would help, but Andrew’s friends were alibis, willing to state in a court of law that he was with them the entire night. That’s when I realised nothing I could say would help. That’s when I realised how I felt about Nate. That’s when I realised what I had to do. Sharks. I hate them. I hate everything about them. The way they move; slow, solid, like a torpedo on an action replay, except with teeth, and lots of them. Three rows of sharp white points, poking through a bloodthirsty mouth, which could easily devour a grown man. A teenage girl would be considered a snack. But, I think the most terrifying thing about them is their eyes, and how they never display any emotion. It was as though they were totally hollow inside. They weren’t living creatures, they were killing machines. Clayton was a saltwater lake; a large body of water connecting to the sea by a narrow delta. That’s how they got in. It was night when I stood on the dock, and the tall electric lights allowed me to make out how many sharks were swimming, but I couldn’t see any. The water was clear. My body was shaking, my breaths either short and shivery or long gasps. I’d taken some diving equipment of my dad’s, or, rather I’d borrowed it without asking but with every intention to return. Easing myself into the water quietly was difficult. I’d read the sharks can hear sounds and smell a drop of blood from up to a mile away, so silence wasn’t just golden, oh no. It was platinum. The water was freezing, but not very deep. I pulled on a scuba mask, and peered through the murky water to the area underneath the dock. Andrews’s friend’s words kept echoing in my mind; “Underneath, nobody’ll look there.” So, I knew it would be nearby. I had only been down for five minutes but it already felt like hours. I started losing hope quickly, until I saw the box half buried in the sand. I swam down, using the underside of the dock to give me more push, and reached for the box. I felt my hands grasp the smooth plastic, and laughed with joy, causing lots bubbles to escape from my mouth, then swam back to the surface. I didn’t notice that nail sticking out of the grimy wood until it gashed my arm and I saw red blood leaking out of it. The pain was unbelievable, as was the speed at which the shark approached me. I knew then that my fate was not only sealed, but signed and delivered as well. He or she? Whatever the thing was, it sure was fast. I reacted immediately, heaving myself up onto the wooden dock, I tried to get up, but it was too late. Massive jaws had clasped around my leg; my heart stopped. I screeched with a mixture of pain and terror, but I knew I had to keep my wits about me. I spied a canoe less than a metre away from me, so dug my nails hard into the damp wood. I was able to reach an oar sticking out of it, so I grabbed the end of it and hit the shark hard with it. As I pulled it from the water I saw there was blood on it, but I wasn’t sure whose it was. The second blow was strong, and took a lot out of me. The shark’s grip loosened a little, but I had no energy, and the loss of blood made me feel faint. I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it alive or not, but then I realised who I was doing it for. I loved Nate. I loved him as more than a friend; more than a brother, and I imagined him in jail for the rest of his life, rotting in a cold, grey cell. The third and final blow proved fatal. It let go, trashed for a few seconds, and was then still, and silent. I’d won. There was quite a lot of damage to my leg, but I was able to stand. Deep cuts and an area where there was almost total blood, searing with pain, but I didn’t care. The important part was I’d done it. The video was in the box, I’d faced my fear, and I’d figured out why Nate had always been so important to me. Everything made sense, and although it sounds strange, I felt great. My phone was in my jacket pocket, which I’d hung over a signpost. I hobbled over to my clothes, and got changed, rolling up my jeans so I didn’t get blood on them or irritate my cuts. Finally, as I put on my jacket, I read what was on the sign; “Clayton Lake- DANGER - Sharks do NOT swim” Andrew is in prison where he belongs, and his friends got a lot of community service and hefty fines. When Nate found out what I’d done, well, one moment he was thanking me and the next he was saying those three little words… “I Love You” Now we’re together, and everything has worked out, like a straight to video movie. The whole ordeal has made me come to a conclusion that totally changed my way of thinking. Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the realisation that something is more important than fear.

Harley

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Points 1212

Reviews 241

Fri Apr 22, 2005 9:38 pm

Harley says... · Fri Apr 22, 2005 9:38 pm

thanks. thats sweet.

Rei

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Points 890

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Fri Apr 22, 2005 9:38 pm

Rei says... · Fri Apr 22, 2005 9:38 pm

Everything seems like the best thing you've ever written when you're writing it. The important thing is to not feel bad when you realize it might not be, and learn how you can be better. Don't worry about not putting it in the right section. It's just that with this being an essay rather than a fictional story, we can't give you a proper critique if we think it's meant to be fiction.

Please, sit down before you fall down.
Belloq, "Raiders of the Lost Ark"

Harley

Gender

Points 1212

Reviews 241

Fri Apr 22, 2005 9:39 pm

Harley says... · Fri Apr 22, 2005 9:39 pm

it IS meant to be fiction... It was a creative writing task, I typed it up, thought I liked it,and since it was a story, decided to post it. I'm getting real confuzzled now. :roll:

Last edited by Harley on Sun Apr 24, 2005 6:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Rei

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Points 890

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Fri Apr 22, 2005 11:09 pm

Rei says... · Fri Apr 22, 2005 11:09 pm

Then it's not an essay.

Please, sit down before you fall down.
Belloq, "Raiders of the Lost Ark"

Harley

Gender

Points 1212

Reviews 241

Sun Apr 24, 2005 6:22 pm

Harley says... · Sun Apr 24, 2005 6:22 pm

OKAY to clear things up: any english writing task that we don't do in jotters is called an essay in our school. this is no exception.

Emma

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Sun Apr 24, 2005 6:58 pm

Emma says... · Sun Apr 24, 2005 6:58 pm

lol true...

And Harley.. Wait you dont even care about my comments... Its really good!

Everyones just jealous

Harley

Gender

Points 1212

Reviews 241

Tue Apr 26, 2005 8:36 pm

Harley says... · Tue Apr 26, 2005 8:36 pm

Heh... yeah, sure, whatever you say, Emz.

mkjohns

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Points 1177

Reviews 4

Thu Sep 17, 2009 4:02 pm

mkjohns says... · Thu Sep 17, 2009 4:02 pm

Harley! You know what english class you are going to be in! The top!

AGREED

By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.
— Genesis 3:19

Fear

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