Songs About Fear Novels & Stories

I stroked her hair again, "NF." She looked up at me in surprise, raising her eyebrows. I shrugged, "His songs are real. Not fake like most. They have meaning rather than some sequence of lyrics about money or cars." As a smile stretched across her face, I wiped away what was left of her tears. "What's your biggest fear?" I asked, lowering my hands from her face. She narrowed her eyes, thinking. I felt her hand squeeze mine and she raised her gaze. "That I'll hurt the people I love the most. That they will leave me and it will be my fault."

And that’s what scares me. Because the line between comfort and desire is razor-thin, and every day she’s healing, every day she smiles more, speaks more, opens up more—I find myself wanting things I shouldn’t. Things she’s not ready to give. Things I’m afraid I’ll start taking just because she lets me. I close my eyes and take a breath through my nose. I can’t afford to mess this up. Because if she ever looked at me with fear, not trust—if I ever made her feel the way those monsters did—I would never forgive myself.

 |Alcohol, sex and germs| Fear is a natural and immensely powerful emotion that Ryan Singh went through every day. Working for a crazy freak like Leona drove this man to build a splendid bond with fear. Whenever the winter hair goddess was out of his sight, heebie-jeebies painstakingly decorate his skin and he quacked on his boots. "I lost her." He gnawed his bottom lip hard and closed his eyes, ready to get busted. "You what?!" Ronald screamed from the other side of the other, rendering the poor man to gulp in discomfort.

Her fear melted slightly, replaced by trust, by something tender and unspoken. “I… I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You won’t,” he murmured back. “Not as long as I’m here.” And in that quiet aftermath, amidst fear, adrenaline, and uncertainty, something shifted between them—a fragile, blooming connection, a silent promise, and the unspoken knowledge that they would face whatever came next together.

She was thinking about all the people that had hurt her in her life as she sang. “I’m so tired of being here…..suppressed by all my childish fears…and if you have to leave…I wish that you would leave…cause your presence still lingers here….and it won’t leave me alone….these wounds won’t seem to heal…this pain is just too real….there’s just too much that time can not erase…when you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears…when you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears…..and I held your hand for through all of these of years…but you still have all of me….”

And something else. Fear.

The room stops spinning. “You were off on the last line,” he says. “Don’t,” I warn. “I’m not talking pitch,” he says. “I’m talking *you.* You pulled back at the very end. Like you were afraid of where the note would land.” “I’m afraid of a lot of things,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to sing about them.” “I know,” he says. “That’s why I’m here.” “To what?” I ask. “Be a live‑in villain for my concept album?”

"I wanna fuck you like an animal..." "I wanna feel you from the inside..." It didn’t matter how fast I ran. The song followed me, his voice dripping with a kind of sick pleasure. Each word sent chills rippling down my spine, turning my fear into something electric. "My whole existence is flawed..." "You get me closer to God..." I looked over my shoulder, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of him. But nothing. Just the graffiti, the walls, the endless stretch of tunnel. No end. No escape.

Now! On one hand, the call to fear is so strong that it is ringing nonstop. After what just happened, I know I should not be reckless. I know I should be cautious, and that goes without any doubt. I don’t need anyone to ring a bell for me to remind me to be careful and watch my back. I know I should not give those people the chance to scare the fuck out of me like they did today or even do worse. But on the other hand, you all know what music does to me. As early as now, I am fantasizing about that colorful night—a night full of music. That would be a little heaven here on earth, especially in the midst of this arising terror. I can already feel the buzz. I can already envision myself on sta

Laura - 1963 Darkness. Fear. My heart thuds, almost breaking free from my ribcage. I gasp for air, but there isn't enough for my thirsty lungs. Fear can be a dreadful thing, killing you before your time comes. Reaching out in the dark, I touch a wall in front of me. Same on my left and right. A hard floor beneath my back as I am lying flat. Where am I?