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Fear Of Being Robbed - Harpaxophobia

Updated on June 15, 2020

Locked Inside

Locked in Fear
Locked in Fear | Source


Sometimes, in our desire to control our lives, in our desire to be safe, a reality emerges that is foreign to others. Safety, security, and freedom from fear are the only states of importance. Locked away from the outside seems the only response to overwhelming pressure.

Harpaxophobia is the fear of being robbed and because of this condition, our character has spiraled into a world of his own making. A controlled, limited world where he alone rules and is safe. Locked away in his apartment with his fears, he awaits for the One. He knows one day the One will come to take his possessions.

Such is the case for the man who awaits the One.

Many Keys

Keys to Locks
Keys to Locks | Source

One Day

He felt nervously for the ring of keys in his pocket. Whew! The keys were there. Sometimes he forgot about them. Most of the time he was aware of their presence digging sharply into his thigh. These keys kept him safe. He rapidly glanced at the door—the locks were safely, securely fastened. There were four locks on the door, all secured by some of the keys on the ring of keys in his pocket. There were other keys: keys to lock-boxes, keys to doors of other rooms in his second floor apartment, keys to cupboards, and a key for his mailbox. He counted precisely twenty-four keys on his key chain.

No one stopped by his apartment anymore. He quit working, now living on his meager savings. The mailman and a delivery boy from the corner grocery were the only ones with whom he had contact. He sat in his chair by the window, peering through the dusty, musty curtains. Through the twilight, he saw nobody in the street. This did not stop him from manning his post, monitoring. He sat here, day after day looking for the One.

Sitting By the Window

A Chair By The Window
A Chair By The Window | Source


He had not always sat in this chair by the window. But slowly, over time he began to sit here for longer periods of time. His obsession slowly overtook him. Safety—he always had to feel safe. This is why he had many locks in place in his world—to keep himself and his prized possessions from the hands of others.

Sometimes, as he sat by the window, he opened his lock-boxes—exactly three of them—kept in a locked cupboard, in the locked closet of his bedroom. He touched them and fondled the items in it. After he examined the contents of his lock-boxes, he immediately returned them to his locked cupboard, in the locked closet of his bedroom.

There were not always four locks on his door. The door came with one standard door lock. As soon as he moved in, he installed a dead-bolt on the door. Then, after a time, added a third, then, later, a fourth lock. These were not ordinary, run of the mill, locks. These were top of the line, lifetime warranty locks. Unpick-able. He had paid top price for them all—no skimping on safety!


Inside Looking Out
Inside Looking Out | Source


A peep-hole was installed on the door to better check the identity of the One he expected as he sits by the window, peering out—to see the One for whom he waited.

In the past, he used to pace anxiously. Every creak in the old building, every windswept branch that hit the roof, every barking dog, would send him into a panic, to the point of almost fainting. But not anymore—he conquered these fears! He installed the locks and now he was in control. He waited to see if the One would appear.

Fear of Being Robbed

Intruder | Source

That Day

One day, upon returning from work, he noticed that his door was unlocked and open. He was sure he had locked it, but now, it was not. He had a sense of dread all the way home. Now, he knew why. He looked around his sparsely furnished apartment, clean but not immaculate. His CD shelves were untouched. His stereo unmoved. He turned on the radio--the station had been changed! He always tuned it to the jazz station, but now it was playing a random, easy listening melody.

He turned into his bedroom and froze--the closet door was open. His favorite fedora had been filched, poached, stolen. Someone had been there. (Later, he came to know that it was the One who had robbed him.) His palms started to sweat, his heart began racing. Suddenly, his mouth was dry and he noticed he was extremely thirsty. He sat down his bed and the next thing he remembered, the sun had gone down. Hours had passed and he was lying across the bed.

That was how it began.

© 2013 ajwrites57

A Long

© 2012 AJ Long


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