The fear of negative evaluation or the fear of failure. It is a psychological construct reflecting "apprehension about others' evaluations, distress over negative evaluations by others, and the expectation that others would evaluate one negatively".
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"You fucking failure. Can't you do anything right?" Jisung flinched, shivering where he laid on the ground, stunned into silence. He clutched his sore, throbbing cheek. This was the first time his mother had hit him because he'd spoken out. Before this incident, she'd always chastised him when he lashed out over smaller matters. Jisung never took her seriously and now he was getting the backlash.
"God. I wish you'd just be like your brother. Felix is such a good kid, he gets good grades, he's great at sports, and his hobbies are all beneficial for his future! And you! You decide to waste your time, scribbling on those endless stacks of paper. Dragons, faeries, knights, princes, blah, blah, blah. You think you're going to earn a living with your bullshit writing?"
"I—yes! I think I will–will be able to—"
His mother's voice came out as thin as paper, making Jisung wince from the strain it must be taking on her, "Shut up! No. You will never—never—be able to make a living from those fantasies of yours. All those famous book authors out there? You think you're like them?" She took a firm step forward and glared down at Jisung, "You will never achieve the success they have. You are just one in a million others, aspiring for that kind of fame. You're no special. I'm your mother, I know this."
Jisung murmured, hanging his head low, "I'm only 9, I hav—"
A heavy thump on the kitchen counter caused him to look straight at his mother. His heart pounded noticeably now. Her eyes were laser-focused on him, her unforgiving glare pinning him there. Fear enveloped Jisung. All the actions she'd taken up to this point had been unpredictable and Jisung was terrified of the many violent scenarios that might play out.
His mother's facial expression was dark. "N-Never, ever, come to me with those writings of yours," pure ire lit her glare, "I am not interested in hopeless fantasies."
She removed her planted fist from the kitchen counter and stalked away after rolling her eyes. Jisung's hand shook as he moved to touch the spot that would sport a handprint for now. But it wasn't his cheek that was burning. Rather it was the very thing keeping him alive.
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SKZ Writing prompts
FanfictionI take inspiration from writing prompts and write short stories or longer ones. #2 - Fakescenarios
