Fear is a raw, primal emotion. It unfurls from the depth of our souls and winds it way through us until all we can feel is that band in our chests, the tremble in our fingers, the heat in our mouths. Fear causes your sense of hearing to heighten, so even though you’re deafened by the roar of your own blood pounding through your veins you could also hear a pin drop miles away.
Fear is an all encompassing emotion that blinkers us from everything else. It has a metallic taste, not unlike the salty tang of fresh blood. It heats us from the pit of our stomachs and radiates to every part of us.
I felt that fear today.
I stood in a tiny room, my finger tips could nearly touch the walls on either side of me, however I stood. It felt like the walls of the sparsely furnished room were closing in on me as the fear rose. The single bulb hanging from the ceiling not bright enough for me to get true clarity.
My eyes locked with the hazel eyes of the enemy of the moment, I slowly recorded minute details and committed them to memory as a faint sheen of sweat broke out over my body. My breath came in rapid gasps as I tried to convince my self that I would be okay. My thoughts raced, I closed my eyes and opened the wrapper.
I looked down, and placed the wax strip on me *there*, 1…..2…..3 I ripped it off.
It didn’t hurt that much, until my natural clumsiness came to the fore and I slipped at a critical moment.
Not only did it not remove the hair, I also bruised myself.