OVERVIEW:4

This story unfolds from a simple, ordinary moment — a college afternoon filled with boredom, laughter, and light teasing. Yet beneath its casual surface lies a much deeper emotion that reconnects me with a forgotten childhood fear. When my friend jokingly called me a “narcissist” and said I was “never afraid of losing anything,” her words echoed through me. They struck a chord that carried me back to a moment I had long tucked away in memory — a time when losing something, or rather someone, terrified me more than anything else.

Through a vivid flashback, I revisit my early years — the little version of me who despised eating and would do anything to escape mealtime. My mother’s desperate attempt to feed me led to a harmless lie: that a “black bear” would come and take away my sister if I didn’t eat. For that little girl, the fear of losing her sister was stronger than her hatred for food. That day, I didn’t just swallow food — I swallowed fear, love, and the realization that my sister meant safety, warmth, and everything irreplaceable.

Coming back to the present, that memory answers my friend’s teasing remark. Maybe I laugh things off and appear carefree now, but deep inside, there’s a part of me that still trembles at the thought of losing the person who once made my childhood whole.

Through this story, I wanted to express how the roots of our emotions often lie buried in the simplest childhood moments. What others see as confidence or detachment might actually be the quiet strength we build from our fears. I am not fearless — I just learned long ago that true fear doesn’t come from losing things, but from imagining life without the people who mean everything to us.