Dear Diary.

Dear diary,
I was in the park yesterday morning and I saw an old man having a rather animated argument with a young lady. They seemed to be disagreeing over a matter of great importance. A few minutes later, when emotions seemed to be taking over, he slid his hand into the pocket of his jacket.
Assuming he was going to pull out a weapon and strike at her, I nearly yelled out an instinctive warning, but I was stopped short.
He removed a beautifully wrapped box and handed it to her. Her eyes teared up and she shivered as she carefully unwrapped it with trembling hands.
The old man was her stepfather, who had recently gone bankrupt but had managed to scrape together enough money to repair her late mother’s watch, the only belonging of the deceased woman that was still in his possession. He wanted his stepdaughter to have it on her birthday, no matter how much she refused.
Later in the day, I was sipping a cup of coffee while reading a book on my sofa, when I heard a cry for help from my neighbor’s house. I impulsively grabbed the baseball bat from beside the door and rushed to her house. On doing so I realized that she was merely playing make believe with her nephew – who was a knight, rescuing her from the capture of a ferocious dragon.
I lay awake at night, contemplating, when I heard the kitchen door creak shut, the scraping of footsteps made me fearfully alert.
I slowly crept out of bed, preparing for the worst, convinced that I was being robbed by a burglar who might also harm me. Armed with the gun from my bedside table, I tiptoed to the landing of the staircase, ready to pull the trigger at a moment’s notice.
I jumped in surprise when I heard my cousin’s cat meow, and realized that my fears were caused by the poor creature’s nightly prowl.
I picked her up and went back to bed, disappointed in myself.
They say that things are merely a figment of our imagination. It pains me that my mind is home to the demons that I believed existed in this cruel world, its cruelty a reflection of what lay within.

If your fears are merely a figment of your imagination, tell me, oh young one, why must you harbor such painful thoughts?

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