This is the reason we were forgotten. “The plague of fears” as they call it.

The name is literally what it is. A plague that influences one’s fears but not in the way you’d expect.

It doesn’t make one fearless, nor does it make one forever fearful.

It takes one’s worst fears, worst phobias, and turns the person into a monster that reflects said fear.

Those who have a phobia of heights become 10 stories tall, and those afraid of spiders gain eight eyes and a thorax to match. And for myself you may ask…

I became just a hand permanently stuck with my dad’s old typewriter. Permanently stuck typing for my fear was writing. Forever having my thoughts shared to the world with no way to redact what I was forced to type, or keep something to myself.

My secrets are no longer truly secrets; for I can keep none.