This was the prompt I was given. Here is my attempt.
You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what is in the room.
I was going to go for funny with this one, but after toying with the idea that five famous actresses were all in the same room and one of them wanted to have a deep meaningful relationship with me (or just wild monkey sex) and I didn’t know which one but had to pick one of them anyway (and of course these are five actresses that I like/respect/admire/lust after so it makes it difficult), I had a change of mind. I mean, of course it is absolutely frightening knowing that 1 of 5 girls likes you and they are all pretending they do because the pressure is on you to show you like the one girl and one girl only. Choose correctly, and well, we’re talking sunshine and rainbows. Choose poorly, and you’ll be going home that night to partake in as many slang terms for masturbation as you know. Sorry mum, I should really tell you not to read my blog.
But I actually got to thinking about what would be in a room that I really feared. And how would I describe it. Some things just can’t be described properly.
Being thousands of miles from my family, I do dread that phone call in the middle of the night. I don’t think I need to tell you what that phone call is. We probably all have a little fear or trepidation about that call. Alas, that is out of my control though. Can’t live my life constantly worrying about that phone call. Just how it is.
Bugs, spiders, snakes, heights – none of that really scares me. There are times I don’t like heights, but that’s usually linked to the man-made apparatuses I have to climb to reach these heights. I’ve seen what the building sites look like in some countries; they do not fill me with a lot of confidence. I used to be afraid of flying, my overactive imagination always getting the better of me. I mean really, it’s just an oversized hollow tube of toothpaste isn’t it? How the hell can that thing actually soar from thousands of miles? But now I love flying so I can’t even write about a sexy pilot promising me the mile high club to get on her private plane. I could, but it wouldn’t be about fears.
And then it hit me. Something might just scare me. I’m not talking ghosts, ghouls, or anything really negative. In fact some people might see this as a positive. Perhaps scare is too strong, but we’ll run with it anyway.
I walk into the room and it’s fairly non-descript. A couple of chairs, a worn out sofa, a smallish flat screen television hanging on the wall. There’s a coffee table that matches the dining table in the far corner. There are 6 chairs around the dining table but judging by the fabric they are barely used. Sitting with their backs to me on the sofa are a woman and a boy; and since I cannot see their faces I have no idea who they are. I go over and sit across from them.
“Hi Geraint.” She smiles at me. “It’s been a long time.”
I nod. I have no idea who she is. Or I might, I don’t know. This isn’t really about her. It’s about the boy.
“This is your son.”
Now, I do not have children. Here’s where my dad would say “that you know of”. Well, I guess it would be kind of scary to find out, at 45, that I do have children somewhere. In all reality, I could have adult children. I know my mum probably doesn’t want to read this, and even while being a bad boy I was careful, but nothing is ever fool proof is it? I mean, things can happen even to the best laid out plans.
So walking into a room and seeing my son, or daughter, well that would be pretty damn scary. Not because I don’t want kids (which I don’t), but because I’ve always believed you should take responsibility for things. If I had had a child that I didn’t help support, I don’t know if I could deal with that. Okay, in this scenario I never knew about it, but still. I’d feel pretty damn awful about that, and that is scary as well.
Shit, I could have children that have children! I could be a grandparent and not know it! Man that is scaring right now. I hope above hope that that is not the case. Not because being a grandparent would make me sound old, but because I’d become a deadbeat grandfather as well as a deadbeat dad. And no kid deserves that.
So I think I’ll just concentrate on choosing Anna Kendrick from a group of her, Natalie Portman, Gemma Arterton, Jennifer Lawerence, and Kate Beckinsale. And if I’m wrong, well, my hand will be tired in the morning.