Phobia | Frerard

Prologue (Rewrite)

I have always loved the stars, yet I am fearful of the night.

I feel it to be a secret about me that some are quite surprised to discover. The complete oxymoron of adoring something you can only come to see during a time where you are most vulnerable. A slight space of allotted time where your biggest, darkest, fret is met with an unreal type of beauty that captures your sense of infatuation.

To feel safe within the interest is another thing that can bring you inner peace during the scary parts, but maybe the idea of living on the edge and doing something that takes your breath away makes it all worthwhile.

There comes a point where in a metaphorical way, life imitates art. But being in this case, the art per say would be the attentiveness with your terribly scary engrossment. I find this to be the easiest part to understand in the perspective of applying it unto my own life.

With the way I see things, I feel as though my existence is shallow. As far as there is to know about me, I love the stars. I fear night. My deepest secret is exposed as of now without even the surface of my facade personality being scratched. This is a dimension of me being shown in a completely opposite manner than it would in my physical life, and just maybe I like it better this way.

Physical life is empty to me, nobody knows my genuine thoughts process. Nobody cares to see past the character I have created to suit the needs of my family's upward reputation. It feels suffocating sometimes, people see my surroundings, they see my face but they don't see me.To be me is to be a liar.

To be me is to be scared. Yet romanticized with almost everything I do.

And as we skip back to my original point; I love the stars, I fear the night.

I love hard, but I fear it.

I try to desperately avoid this, these thoughts are always on the tip of my tongue, mocking me into speaking these iron hot words. Laughably, I take caution every time I speak but the burning never stops. It sits there, seething holes through my gums just as harsh as acid would drip carelessly through steel.

This is a reason why there is a shallow hole in my chest, edging deeper than I assume it could be. This fire in my mouth is a prerequisite to my ignorance of allowing to be loved. It puts the emotion to a screeching halt, daring it to even try to sneak its way into the crevices of my thin emotional armor.

Only once was there a way to warm the chill in my bones, and there is no truth that it came in an easy way. For living in this government is something that could put even the toughest mind at dismay, even if in extreme denial. There is no ideal way to escape its gnawing jaws in its act of stealing comfort.

I, being a Same, am privileged. A nickname for Superior-Same Statistical Mindset, I am the lucky side of the small spectrum. My neurodynamic functions are considered to be favored, being ruled to the fact that I conform to the government's expected standards of what a normal citizen should be.

Posh and quiet, low volumed opinions and a collection of money more than we're worth, our families run the society. Only those who are in the Same Mindset can hold government positions, the richer ones to be exact. The more money you bring in, the higher the authority you have over the helpless people living in the section. Prejudice comes into play in the government positions, your opinions can be formed into laws just depending on your salary. The more digits, the more freedom.

And most importantly, the more typical and conformed, the more rights. And a normal appearance as well-  but I'm not at this point of explanation yet.

Of course I know this means of a "perfect" lifestyle all too well, I'm sure it could be quite obvious. As my father holds a third chair placement, he's a model citizen and makes many important decisions for our Living Section. We are Section 4, close to Section 1 which is considered the nation's capital as of now. With context clues, one could assume that because of this number being so close to 1, we hold a lot more power and a lot more money than one who would be living in the 40's. Or the Unmarked Land.

Assuming that I am just as emotionally inept as society makes me out to be, my parents turn me the blind eye so to speak. I'm a double knotted mystery in their point of view and this is easy to conceal as far as I've seen. My privilege is overbearing in the face of this Nation's minorities, keeping my fabricated ego that I share with my kin afloat. We thrive off the misfortune of those different from us, if I am to be brutally honest.

They are called The Difference of a Typical Mind, or Diffs for short, this group of people are the digits that make up the numbers of those discriminated against. They are seen to be unfit of our society's standards with their out of the box thinking and morally rejected standpoints.

From birth, it is easy to detect these types of minds. Just hours after we are pushed from our mother's womb, we are all to undergo The Placement Test. Just from a simple brain scan and a prick of our newborn blood, our fate can be determined. If Diff DNA is detected within the infant, they are named an Early Stage Diff. Being placed as an Early Stage is crucial, there is no going back if you are diagnosed as Early Stage. It's a life sentence. Even if the DNA isn't detected, we must all always be on our guard, there is the looming thought of turning into a Diff that constantly rages the mind of every Same. The fear of having your appearance altered is a terror that nobody can even imagine unless you've lived through it.

The petrifying idea of your hair turning to an abnormal color, pictures appearing across your skin, losing your ability to speak, scars appearing...it's something that is unlikely, but never impossible. There is no explainable way as to how this happens, only a why. You are either born with these so called handicaps, or you rightfully 'earn' them. It is chiseled into my brain in an effort to survive and to fit in, to bottle up my unappreciated thoughts. There has never been a circumstance where I've done nothing else but lie and disguise, and there is the probability that it's the instincts of my natural denial coming into play.

Wanting to keep myself from being a victim in this era is most definitely a belief I share with those like me. I keep my thoughts and actions narrow. I stay put. I keep well mannered. I speak when spoken to. Respect my elders. Keep good posture. Make the above average grades. Community service. Promote my father's campaign. Listen to my government. Hide. Stay away from those different me. Traditional values. Suffocate. Put a napkin on my lap. Shy from manipulative media. Fit in with the crowd. Wear my tie. Attend the galas.  No crying. No overbearing emotion. Loneliness. Perfection.

Only to survive, to keep what my family has built. I do this for their sake and mine.

I keep my fear of the night tucked inside the deepest crevice of my heart so I can enjoy the warmth and the beauty of the stars.

Even when the Sun is out.

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