Fear

             Let fear work for you, Zed says, as if he invented the idea. What does an Australian motorcyclist punk know of fear? Let him feel the fear of a lab rat, killed and brought back for an experiment. Let him feel the fear of reimprisonment constantly hanging over him. Let him feel the fear of a little boy run through countless simulations of war, murder, terrorism, biological warfare. Let him feel the fear of a thousand victims as I have felt it. Let him feel the fear of never, ever finding lasting love. Then let him tell me about fear.

Let fear work for you

            Let fear work for you, Zed says. I do that every day, every Pretend. Sydney taught me all about fear. I was an Apollo 13 astronaut, pushing through fear to find the slingshot solution. I was an assassin constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid to fail. I was a prisoner of war, understanding brokenness. I was a medical researcher, letting anxiety push me to find a cure. Sydney taught me that by feeling their fear as my own, I could solve their problems. Now I’ll feel yours, solve yours, Zed. You are the problem. You’ve never tasted fear, until now.

Become the monster

            Let fear work for you, Zed says. And I’m there again, in Sarah’s bedroom, with a murderer and rapist, becoming the murderer and rapist. He’s pushing me, taunting me, and I’m fighting feeling his emotions as I fought them long ago, as a child. I felt the fear back then, the desperate fear that if I let him in my head, I would never get him out. I would become him. I feel it now, strangling. I feel the intoxication of becoming him.

            And I defeat it. I use it. You don’t have to become a monster to catch one.