Real Fear

Anyone who knows me knows I am a huge horror movie buff and lover of all things Steven King. I once stayed up all night, completely alone because I couldn't put down "The Shining." What kept me reading was what I thought was real fear. The images of a topiary coming to life (and yes, when properly described bushes trimmed to look like rabbits and lions are indeed piss-your-pants because you don't want to get out of bed because you're so scared type of scary) freaked me out so much, I thought what I was feeling was true terror. It wasn't, at all.

I've been lucky, in that, I've never completely feared for my life. I've had a relatively safe existence up until today. But today...today was worse than fearing for my own life, I was afraid for my daughter's. The image of her face, red from forehead to neck and tear stained, was one of a child who thought they might die and with good reason.

We were on a two lane highway and I was in the right lane. Unbeknownst to me there is a girl texting next to me in the left lane. Here comes a tractor trailer pulling onto the highway without slowing down. I can see he's not going to merge on so I try to move to the left. Phone girl is oblivious of my attempts to get away from the oblivious truck driver.

My eyes start darting everywhere. I was screaming "LET ME THE FUCK IN," as if she could hear me.The second I finish the sentence I hear Morgan screaming, I turn and she's trying to get her seat belt off to go to the other side of the car. For one instant, I saw the cab of the huge truck going 60 mph just inches away from my hysterical child.

Phone girl noticed just in the nick of time. Seriously. She slowed down and I was able to push the pedal to the floor and cut into the left hand lane just as the truck flew by us. I'm finding I'm holding my breath as I write this. I was scared but my daughter was terrified. I had the luxury of thinking about saving us in those moments, all she could think about was a truck crushing her.

I understand now what people mean when they say, "It was just a few seconds, but it felt like hours." That's the only way to describe it. After taking in a breath, I reached back, held my still crying baby's hand and listened to her wail about how she just wanted to get to the other side of the car. I only realized after how bad it really could have been. She lived it in real time in real fear.

But the best possible outcome happened. Once we got home, I lost it. I held her and I cried and I kissed her and I held her and I cried and kissed her some more.

Now, I'm here writing as always. She's out convincing her father to buy her stuff she doesn't need but he will anyway like always. We are fine. But that adrenaline rush I always crave, and what ultimately must have helped save us today, has left me with a hangover so bad, I have no desire for Steven King or Night of the Living Dead and don't know when I will again.

Now more than ever, one of my biggest wishes for her future is to never feel that way again. That was real fear and there was nothing fun about it.

Melissa wears many hats. Some are super colorful and some are dark just like her stories. She is a mother, a friend, a writer, a survivor, a warrior, a yogi, a listener, a talker and a lover of all things art.