Say this picture has about twenty-five ants in it.
Multiply that by 40,000, and you've got a million ants.
I don't mind a few ants, especially if they're harmless, but even twenty-five ants is a bit much for me. I don't mind a handful of spiders, or a handful of cockroaches, or a handful of worms. A handful of ants, though?
Gives me the shivers.
And multiply that little handful by tens of thousands, and I don't think anyone would want to deal with that.
After those ants cleared away, the Foam Cabinet wasn't done. I've always thought I had nothing to fear in this world, but it turns out that there ARE a few scary things out there. Clowns are not one of them. Nor are freaky bug-eyed monkeys with fangs. Even excessive blood and gore doesn't turn my stomach.
No, if there's an irrational fear, I've got one.
The Foam Cabinet started to rust.
Don't ask me how a cabinet made of foam can rust. Obviously it CAN, and I'm not too comfortable finding out why.
I guess I'm not drop-dead scared of rust, or anything rusty, but it does creep me out more than it should. When one of my paintbrushes got rusty, I was afraid to use the paintbrush. Sure, it still functions normally, but it's got rust on it now.
Therefore, the paintbrush is no longer to be used.
I really don't have a lot of fears. I used to be deathly afraid of roller coasters, but that fear has turned into an exciting rush of adrenaline. I also was a little spooked at the thought of being in the dark alone, but I love the dark now. And, for a while, I was convinced that every non-living thing was out to get me. This was only for a couple days, and was when I was quite young, though, and I am now at awe of the beautiful creations surrounding me.
The Foam Cabinet did, however, have one more nasty surprise in store for me. The other two things were basically creepy times a hundred. This was beyond creepy. This was seriously the scariest thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
I can't pull up pictures, because what I saw was beyond what image, or sound, or words could portray. I'll try my luck with words, though.
First, I was a little confused. I saw one of my friends from fifth grade. She was just as I remembered her: sweet, pretty, and curious. Then, I saw another friend. One after the other, people I had met started appearing, stepping out of the Foam Cabinet as if they were happy to be there. A very light aura encircled them. The aura reminded me of hope. They looked in my direction at times, but none of them acted like they actually saw me. They just looked on as if I wasn't there.
As more people stepped out, I realized that I hadn't seen any of these people within the past month, to the past few years. They all started socializing with each other. As Carlos stepped out, I got this sickening feeling; the feeling that I knew what was going to happen next. One last person made her way out of the Foam Cabinet. This person was probably the one person I had been thinking about more than Carlos.
My friend was positively glowing with that same aura everyone else had around them. She looked directly at me, smiled, and took her own heart out of her chest. It looked like she was giving it to me. I reached out to take it, but right before I could get my hands on the beating lump of muscle, a familiar-looking stranger moved my hands away. My friend's heart dropped in slow motion. It started to rust, and little ants pushed their way out of the walls. I tried to grab at the heart. I tried to face my fears, and not just the ones dealing with ants and rust particles. I was a fraction of a second too late.
Her heart hit the ground in a deafening explosion. I looked up at my friend, blood on my hands and face. My body was completely on the ground; my arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to save the heart of my dear friend. She looked at me. She cut right down into my soul. Her expression was unreadable. The aura of hope that had once surrounded her was now gone. And the stranger snatched her away.
I laid there for what seemed like an eternity. Then I looked around at all the other people there. They were all being greeted by the stranger. They were all offering him their own hearts. Their hope seeped from their bodies to their hearts. He took them gingerly, one by one, and led them each out of sight.
At this point, I was beyond spooked. I was beyond fear. I was beyond tears. I was beyond rage. I felt dead. I felt pointless. Defeated. Hopeless.
There was one more person left. That person was Carlos. I had vowed to never bother with him again, because he proved to be a great distraction. I was over my lust.
But he was all alone. Sitting down, with his legs crossed. His heart sat next to him, in the curious form of a frog. Both radiated with hope and expectation.Waiting.
For what?
I knew. He was waiting for someone. Someone to give his hopes to. Someone to give his dreams and desires to. Someone to support him throughout his life. I had felt the same way before: full of hope, but needing to share it.
Thing is, there are two people he could give his hope to. One is the stranger. The other is whomever lives inside of me. My friend thought she was giving her heart to me, and she was. But I alone cannot receive the hopes of others.
Why not?
Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of fear. And that's the most dangerous fear of all.
All I can say is... amen.
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