Survival, instinct, caution, doubt, suspicion, curiosity.
Courage is not absence of fear.
Courage is :
- Action taken while fear is active.
If fear is gone, courage is irrelevant.
When unchecked, fear becomes :
- Paranoia
- Tyranny
- Violence
- Control systems
Large systems ruled by fear trend toward :
- Preemptive cruelty
- Suppression of difference
- Authoritarian logic
Fear always justifies itself.
Record Twelve - Mina
An open field stretched wide under a pale afternoon sky, grass bending lazily in the wind. At the center sat a quiet lake, its surface rippling gently.
A wooden bridge cut across the edge of it, old planks creaking when someone stepped wrong. Tall grass swayed along the shore and dragonflies zipped around like they owned the place.
Two girls in wrinkled school uniforms sat at the very edge of the bridge.
Lia. Her school shoes were kicked off nearby, socks folded and tucked inside them. She held a makeshift fishing rod. It was a stick, some string tied to the end. The string disappeared into the water, bobbling slightly.
Beside her, squatting low, was a smaller girl in the same uniform.
Mina.
She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, face way too close to the lake as she stared into the water.
“Do you think you’ll catch something?” She asked, eyes wide, voice soft but curious.
Lia shrugged, not looking away from the water.
“Dunno. Maybe.”
Mina scooted closer, peering down.
“I can’t see anything. Are you sure there is fish in here?”
“There are,” Lia said quickly. “My dad said so.”
“Oh.”
Mina leaned even more, her body tipping forward, hands gripping the edge of the bridge.
The plank creaked.
“HEEY..” Lia yelped. “Scoot back! You’re gonna fall!”
Mina squeaked. She shuffled backward on her heels, plopping down onto her butt with a small thump.
Lia exhaled hard. She turned and grabbed Mina’s sleeve.
“Don’t do that!” Lia said, voice high and upset.
Mina looked at her, blinking.
“...Sorry.”
Lia let go, chest puffed as she looked back at the water.
“Just... stay there.”
“Okay.”
A quiet moment passed.
The water rippled again.
Mina leaned forward a tiny bit. Safely this time. And whispered.
“...If you catch one, can I name it?”
“..sure.” Lia replied.
Mina smiled.
The string tugged.
Hard.
Lia gasped. “…HUH?”
The stick bent.
“... I GOT ONE! “
She shot to her feet way to fast. The bridge creaked.
Mina screamed. “AAAA… LIA!!”
The string yanked again, nearly pulling the stick out of Lia’s hands.
“It’s STRONG…!” Lia shrieked, stumbling backward. “Why is it STRONG…?!”
The water splashed violently. Whatever was on the other end was not playing.
Lia planted her feet and pulled with both hands, face scrunched, teeth clenched.
“Come… ON… !”
The fish yanked back.
Lia slid across the wooden planks.
“HEY..HEY..HEY..STOP!”
“WHAT DO I DO?!” Mina cried.
“HELP ME!!” LIA YELLED. “PULL ME…!”
Mina scrambles up and wrapped both arms around Lia’s waist from behind, grabbing a fistful of her uniform.
“OKAY!!”
She leaned back with all her tiny strength.
The two girls formed the worst possible tug-of-war team.
The fish pulled.
Lia stumbled. Mina squeaked.
The fish pulled again.
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“IT’S WINNING!” Mina wailed.
“NO IT’S NOT..” Lia snapped. “PULL HARDER.”
The stick bent even more. The string made a horrible creak sound.
The lake went still for half a second.
Then
SNAP.
The string broke.
Both girls flew backward like they’d been launched.
Mina landed flat on her back with a dramatic THUD.
Lia tumbled over her and rolled to the side like a dropped backpack.
Silence.
Then
SPLASH.
A massive catfish burst from the water, thick and slick and ridiculous, the snapped string still dangling from its mouth.
It flipped once. Twice. Then slapped back into the lake and vanished beneath the surface.
Gone.
The water rippled smugly.
They laid there on the wooden bridge, staring up at the sky, defeated by a whiskered lake villain.
Moments later.
Lia hung upside down from the low branch of the tree next to the lake.
Her knees hooked over the rough bark, legs hooked securely. Her hair spilled downward in a soft, messy curtain, brushing the tips of the grass below. Sunlight caught in the strands, turning them into little ribbons of gold that swayed every time she shifted.
Her arms stretched out toward the ground, fingers dangling just out of reach.
Mina lay flat on her back beneath her. One knee bent, the other stretched out. Her hands reaching up. She squinted, tongue peeking out a little as she aimed for Lia’s hands with dramatic seriousness.
Their fingertips almost touched.
Almost.
Lia pulled her hands back at the very last second.
Her body shook with silent laughter, hair swishing side to side as she kicked her feet against the tree for balance. The branch creaked softly in protest.
Mina groaned without a sound, flopping her arms back onto the grass for a moment before shooting them up again, stretching higher, arching her back off the ground more determined this time.
This time, she got closer.
Lia leaned down.
Closer.
Closer.
And then…yoink.
Lia yanked her hands away again, swinging slightly from the branch, nearly losing her balance as her hair brushed Mina’s nose.
Mina rolled onto her side dramatically, clutching the grass defeated.
Above her, Lia dangled there, upside down and victorious, grinning so hard her cheeks probably hurt.
The leaves rustled. The sky stayed soft and bright.
Later.
They walked away from the lake in quiet little steps.
Their school bags hung heavy on their backs, straps squecking with every step. Lia’s bag thumped against her legs. Mina’s was too big for her and kept sliding off one shoulder no matter how many times she shrugged it back up.
They were holding hands. Mina swung Lia’s hand back and forth happily.
The path was long and dusty, lined with tall grass that whispered when the wind passed through. Somewhere a cicada buzzed.
Mina’s steps were lighter, almost bouncy, like she was trying to match the rhythm of Lia’s stride. Sometimes she tumbled on purpose to feel Lia tighten her grip for a second longer.
The wind brushed past them, tugging at loose strands of hair and fluttering the ends of their uniforms. The lake was far behind now, but the smell of water still clung to the air, mixed with grass and the faint sweetness of flowers they passed along the road.
Their shadows stretched ahead of them, long and thin on the ground. Two shaped holding hands even when the sun started to sink lower. A bird flew overhead, its wings cutting across the sky. Mina tilted her head up to follow it, her grip on Lia’s hand tightening without thinking.
Lia squeezed back.
They walked past fences and quiet houses, past a road where car hummed in the distance, past a tree with low branches that brushed the tops of their heads. Mina ducked under it dramatically, she didn't need to.
Lia just walked through and got leaves stuck in her head. Mina reached up and picked them out, careful and slow.
Lia stayed still for her.
The sky shifted colors again. Blue fading into gold, gold melting into soft pink. The world felt smaller, quieter, like it was just the two of them in it.
Their steps stayed in sync.
Their hands never let go.
… PRESENT …
She closed Lia’s apartment door quietly behind her.
The hallway smelled like dust and old paint.
She headed for the stairs , taking them to at a time at first, then slowing down as her legs started to complain. Her shoes thumped softly against the concrete, echoing down the narrow stairwell.
She smiled to herself softly. She had decided to go the cafe. To Lia.
I’m sure she’s dead tired by now.
At the bottom, she reached the main door just as someone else did. A tenant swiped their key card, the lock beeped and the door slid open with a soft mechanical sigh. She slipped out behind them with a quick, polite nod.
Outside, midday sunlight spilled across the street.
Cars passed. Someone laughed somewhere down the block. The world felt loud and alive.
The cafe wasn’t far.
She stepped off the curb.
Cold.
It crawled up her arms like invisible fingers.
She slowed.
Her skin prickled. Goosebumps raced up her arms, her neck, her legs.
Her chest tightened. Her breath fogged, just for a second.
She took a breath. It snagged halfway in.
For a split second, everything felt heavy. Dense. Like wading into deep water without meaning to.
Her vision blurred. Her heart slammed once. Hard. So hard it hurt.
“Heh…?!”
She gasped sharply, the breath tearing into her lungs like she’d been underwater too long. She yelped, stumbling backward, palms slapping the ground as she fell.
She was in her apartment room.
She didn’t remember opening the door. Didn't remember climbing the stairs. Didn't remember stepping inside.
One moment . Street. Sunlight. Noise. The next, walls. Curtains. Her bed. Her floor beneath her palms.
Her head spun.
Her breathing came out uneven, shaky.
Her hands trembled as she looked down at them.
“What….is this….?” she whispered, barely loud enough to hear herself.
The words barely made it past her lips.
“What are these.”
A voice rang out casually. Almost amused.
Not hers.
She turned.
There was a man sitting on her bed.
Not just sitting. Casually perched on the edge, like he’d been there for hours. His long coat draped over the side of the mattress. In his hands, was one of her Hello Kitty plushie.
He tilted the plush slightly, examining it with quiet curiosity, as if it were some ancient artifact.
She froze.
Her body locked up completely, like every muscle had received the same command at once : don’t move.
Her breath stuttered. Her vision blurred at the edges. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere. Throat, ears, fingertips.
“Aa…”
The sound caught in her chest.
Her mouth opened again. Nothing came out.
Her hands slid slightly on the floor as her grip weakened, palms slick with sweat. Her shoulders shook, tiny uncontrollable tremors running through her arms and down her spine.
The man stood. Slowly.
The plushie was set back on the bed.
He wandered the room. Slow steps carrying him past her desk, her shelves. He picked up a framed photo , examined it, then set it back exactly where it had been. His fingers brushed the edge of her jacket.
“Ah.. ah…”
Her voice cracked this time.
Tears welled in her eyes without permission. Her chest felt too tight. Too small. Her thoughts tangled into useless noise.
Move. Move. MOVE.
And she did.
Her body lurched forward before her mind caught up.
She bolted.
Scrambling to her feet, she threw herself at the door, fumbling the handle with shaking hands. The door flew open. She slammed it shut behind her without looking back.
And ran.
Down the hallway. Past doors. Past lights. Her feet barely touched the floor.
Phone. Lia.
Her hands dove into her pockets.
Empty.
She burst out of the building and nearly collided with a man entering. He caught her shoulders instinctively, steadying her.
“Hey… are you…”
She didn’t let him finish.
She tore free and kept running.
Ten steps.
Then
The world folded.
The street vanished.
Her stomach lurched violently.
She was back.
Her apartment.
“Aah!”
She stumbled backward, crashing into the wall, sliding down until she hit the floor again, breath coming out in a broken gasp.
The man in the coat was sitting on her bed again.
He tilted his head slowly, studying her like she’d done something mildly confusing.
“Where are you going?” he asked gently.
“Hmm… I can’t find anything interesting about you.”
She blinked.
She wasn’t on the floor anymore.
She was sitting on the bed.
Next to him.
Her body went rigid. Her hands shot down and gripped the bed sheets so hard her knuckles turned pale, nails biting into the fabric like anchors. The cotton twisted under her grip.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
This isn’t real.
This isn’t real.
This isn’t real.
She repeated it over and over, like the words might build a wall if she stacked them fast enough.
“I’m real, mortal,” he said.
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes opened despite her screaming not to.
She turned her head slowly.
He was looking at her.
His gaze traced her face with detached curiosity. Her trembling lips, the wet shine in her eyes, the way her shoulders were drawn in tight like she was trying to fold herself smaller.
He leaned closer.
She flinched immediately, scooting back on the bed inch by inch, her back pressing toward the headboard. The mattress creaked softly under her movement.
He was still watching her. Then he turned.
She recoiled, heart slamming, body curling inward
And then she was closer again.
She was pulled back without being touched.
Her breath left her in a sharp, broken gasp. Tears spilled freely now, sliding down her cheeks as her hands trembled uselessly in her lap.
“Mina,” he said softly.
He studied her face again, closer now, like he was trying to find something hidden behind her fear.
“Tell me,” he continued quietly, “Why did **** care enough to save you?”
Her ears rang. The name dissolved into noise.
Silence.
“...Why are you so quiet?” he asked.
Casual. Like he was asking about the weather.
“Aa…” she tried.
The sound scraped out of her throat and died immediately.
“Aa?” he echoed, tilting his head slightly, genuinely curious. He even leaned forward a little, like he was encouraging her to finish the sound.
“Go on.”
Her mouth opened again.
Nothing.
Her lips quivered uselessly. Her eyes burned. Her vision blurred until his shape doubled, then steadied again. Fear had swallowed everything. Sound, thought. Her face twisted into something raw and helpless, brows drawn tight, jaw locked like if she moved a millimeter she’d shatter.
“You’re supposed to be dead, you know,” he said finally.
His gaze drifted over her.
She didn’t react.
She couldn’t even hear him anymore.
The room felt far away. His voice felt like it was coming through water. Her heartbeat was louder than everything else, pounding in her ears, in her chest, in her head.
Her instincts screamed for her to move, to get away, to do anything.
“Look.”
Her head turned without her permission.
Her stomach dropped.
Something else stood there. At the far end of the room.
Tall. Still . Holding a massive scythe, its blade curving.
She shrieked.
“It’s waiting to take you.”
“You’re supposed to be here.”
Her breath hitched as her feet now hovered just above nothing, her body weightless. Beneath her stretched an endless path, translucent silhouettes shaped like humans walking in perfect lines. They moved silently, uniformly, drifting forward toward a massive light ahead.
Then the world folded in on itself.
She was back on her bed.
The man was sitting in front of her now, a chair pulled from her desk and turned backward. He leaned against the backrest, arms folded over it, chin resting on his hands as he studied her.
Relaxed. Patient. Like he had all the time in the world.
Silence stretched.
Her breathing was the only sound in the room.
Then
Two fingers brushed her cheek, wiping away the dry line where her tears had carved a path down her skin.
Something inside her loosened.
The tight not in her chest unwound. The buzzing in her head softened. The fear didn’t vanish, but it drifted farther away, like something sinking into deep water.
She didn’t look at him.
Her eyelids grew heavy before she realized it was happening. The room dimmed at the edges. Her thoughts blurred together, fear dissolving into exhaustion.
Sleep took her.
****
She woke up to dim light spilling through her curtains.
Evening.
Wrapped in her blanket, tucked in tight.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, heart skipping.
The man was gone.
Lia.
The thought slammed into her all at once, sharp and urgent.
She threw the blanket off and bolted upright.
Out the door.
Out the street . She ran. Towards Lia.
The cafe was close. Too close to slow down.
She turned the corner
And collided straight into someone.
“Oo… sorr…”
The voice stopped.
“Mina?”
Her knees almost gave out.
Relief flooded her so fast it made her dizzy. Her vision stung, her throat tightened and for a second she really thought she might just break down right there on the side walk.
“Lia.”
Lia’s hands came up, cupping her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks like she was checking if she was real. Lia’s eyes moved quickly, scanning her face, her hair, her shoulders. Lia’s brows were pulled tight with worry, lips parted like she’d been holding her breath for too long.
“Are you okay?” Lia blurted out. “Why is your phone off? I called…”
She barely even heard her.
She leaned forward , resting her forehead lightly against Lia’s
“I’m okay now,” she said softly, forcing a little smile. It wobbled, but it was real.
She pulled back just enough to look at Lia, eyes still a little shiny.
“Why are you in such a rush?”
“Did you miss me that much?”
She joked.