When I was a young girl, I had quite an imagination, and just as many fears. For example, I was convinced there was a monster under my bed. I just knew he had several knives positioned to pierce my sleeping body at any moment. I’m not sure how many times my mom reassured me that there was nothing under my bed but a little dust!
Fears are sometimes imaginary, just like that monster under my bed. Other times, the object of our fears is quite real. There’s no way I’m going to say all fears are fictional, because I know too many victims beaten within an inch of their lives to tell them fearing their aggressor is “False Evidence Appearing Real.”