Ninety Years Of Fear

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I asked a cross section of people between the age of six and ninety what their number one fear was, and it was ridiculously fun.

“Losing someone I love. That, and looking out the window at night and seeing someone’s face.”

“Witches. They’re green.”

“Murky water. Honestly submerge yourself in that and literally anything could happen. Who knows what’s down there.”

“Birds. Both the Hitchcock film and the creature.”

“Heights or anything extreme, and like leeches or blood.”

 “Being boring.”

“Spiders. I have a sixth sense where I automatically wake up when one’s in my bedroom.”

“Compound fractures. You know, where the bone sticks through the skin.”

“Abattoirs.”

“Death. Not the physical act of dying, but just being trapped in a state of nothingness for eternity.”

“Deep sea, or swimming at night. I’m constantly afraid that I’ll go under the water and see a great white.”

“Not blood, but like exposed flesh.”

“Having a hook stuck in me, and death. Also being poor, that more so than death.”

“Being framed for murder. That would fucking suck.”

“Being buried alive.”

“The loss of independence. Like the physical need to be dependent is scary as.”

“Being trapped on a desert island with my mother.”

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