I once heard, well read online, that it was good to write your fears down. I had written them before, a short week ago. But the difference now, was that my fears have gotten more serious. Fears now were life and death.

Life. Now that I was carrying an unborn child, the thought of life had entered my brain. What did it mean to live? And what counted as having life? Life is wonderful, and beautiful, and something that can be written very simple or very complex. And living? To fully be living you had to be enjoying life. Right? Immortality was the ability to live forever, but then by my definition of living, was I only living forever when I was enjoying it. And would there be a time I stopped living, but I was still there?

Death. I had said before the concept scared me. And I can whole-heartedly say now that it now terrifies me. Death was a mystery, and dying was more of one. Because when you were dead, your sprit was still alive? Or was it not? So then was death just the death of your body? I just didn't know, and I never dwelled too much because I was immortal. I "lived forever." But now it wasn't just me. I was responsible for someone else too.

I'm 17. Seven-teen. And I really never planed for anything like this to happen I didn't. And I was even warned and I didn't take the warning. And now I was carrying potential life. But if I wasn't responsible to check Michael for protection, how could I raise a child? I couldn't. I could barely handle myself.

There was abortion, the option was there. But I had to think that I would be killing life. Killing something innocent and beautiful. Killing something who hadn't done anything wrong ever. Now I was never a reader, but I did know some literature. And I knew enough that aborting my child, killing an innocent soul, would be like killing a mockingbird.

There was adoption, but then it would be as if I abandoned our child. The last thing I wanted was for it, him or her, to be bitter with resentment towards Mike and I because we abandoned it. I knew I didn't have what it takes to raise a child. But if I didn't as much as try when what kind of person was I? I was yet to be perfect alone, but I had said we were prefect together. And perfection could take on anything right?

So then there was the terrifying though of me being a mother. Mother. Raising the child. But I couldn't keep it at camp could I? Would I have to leave? Maybe to my mom's place. But if Michael wanted a part in its life, then what? We were young, and I wasn't sure if we were ready to move in together. I was ready, but was he? Loving someone was one thing, living with them was another. But then I thought about it more, and I was ready. If we had to move in to raise this baby, then I would have no problem with it. I mean he would still have to get used to me spading makeup everywhere, and keeping everything else neat and clean; but other then that I could do it. I would get to wake up every morning with him, and our beautiful child. I had asked for a lot of things in life, but that seemed to be the ultimate gift.

So my fears? The current images that haunt me and my mind? There's too many, to many things that keep me on the verge of spilling my secrets to everyone. Too many things on my mind. But this is what I got for my actions, my lack of perfection. This is my punishment, being scared. And I needed to take these fears and get over them. Or again, what kind of angel wannabee would I be?

I'm afraid of falling. Falling down the dark path of the unknown. I was always one to stick to the know, stick to what I could perfect. But now I had to perfect something I knew nothing about. Well, I knew very little. I have mother and she's great and I love her like any daughter would. But she wasn't exactly there for all of the substantial things. I could talk to her and tell her anything and I'm grateful for that, but cooking cleaning all of that we were left to our own devices. So being a mother, a perfect mother, all I had for help was episode's of Real Housewives and Toddlers and Tiaras to help me down the correct path.

Another fear, the future. Because it was more unclear then ever. I mean any future was a blur, this this was harder. I knew just about nothing. I didn't know what the baby would be like, what being pregnant would feel like, what my life would be like. I didn't know what people would think of me, if they would hate me more or feel sorry for me. I didn't know what would be next in my relationship with Michael, how having a child would affect us.

Emotions. Love, I'm afraid if me being pregnant could mess with the love we have. I knew it was strong, but it was also fresh new. Like new life. And this would be like throwing a stone at a newborn and telling them to think fast. It's not that the baby's not smart, its just not developed for that challenge yet. Importance. I don't think I really tell everyone how important they are to me. Rylie, is freaking ruing her relationship and getting pregnant all for me. For stupid, imperfect, selfish me. I should've stopped it at the thought, because what kind of sister was I letting her do this? An awful, awful one. Yet again I screw up, and Rylie looks good. Sometimes I think there's no use trying so hard to be perfect, Rylie's already the perfect twin.

Fear that I need to start treasuring things. Its like everyone's life is on a clock. And I just have a longer ticking one. One that ticks forever. But everyone else has a clock that runs out. Tick tick tick. Seconds, moments, falling off the clock. And one day it will reach a final breath, a final tick. And I want to be with these people until the last tick, because it will come sooner for me then I think. And I'm just afriad, scared, beating up on myself, that I'm not spending enough time with these people. I'm more focused on my own, stupid, life as an 17 year old girl. One who can be 17 again and again and again as many times as she wants. They can't.

Which brings me to selfishness. Your supposed to look out for yourself and everything, but I feel like when I do its being selfish. Self-Centerd. I don't mean to immerse myself into myself, I just care about myself. And I'm defensive. Of my name, of those I care about. So then I turn into bitchy Blake. I don't mean to, but I knock them down. I pick them apart. But I don't know how their feeling inside, they could be broken down for all I know. And I'm awful, I say things I shouldn't. And it looks like I'm insensitive, but I do apologize. I don't ever mean anything I say. I just like the power, control, the win. I'm terrible.

I don't want my child to be like me, I would be poisoning new life. The clear beautiful water and I would come and drip pink toxic into it. I'm terrible. I'm selfish, mean, insensitive, needy. I don't have a future planed, I'm irresponsible. Why would anyone trust me with a child. Why would anyone trust me with anything?

When I write my fears down again, and they change a bit, I can look back on myself. My fears now, all revolve around my new life that I'm holding in my hands. I'm afraid of falling my child. Afraid of our future. Afraid of our relationships, afraid of my judgment. Afraid if I'm even a good person.

I just can't mess up anymore. Because starting now, and probably forever, every single choice and screw up I make no longer centers around me. It affects our child. Our child that came from me screwing up. But that would be the last thing I screwed up.

FEAR. False evidence appearing real. Failure expected and received. Future events already ruined. F*** everything and run?

My brother, Phobos, is the god of fear. I had fears, and I knew that. And I'm strong enough to admit them. But the problem is that I'm not facing them. I'm noticing their there, and letting them bother me. FEAR. Fear is made up of four things. Frustration ego anxiety resentment. Frustration that I'm scared. Frustration of my imperfection. Ego. Seriously, my ego's bigger then my boobs. Maybe equal. Anxiety, well obviously I'm stressed. Resentment, because I'm still mad and blaming myself for everything.

I was letting my fears control me, and I had to stop. Because in doing that, I was showing weakness, vulnerability. And soon before I know it I'll be an example, a role model. And I can't be controlled by something of no substance. Controlled by something fueled by me. I will not let fear take over me. I won't let it be a part of me. Because if it consumes me, then what life will I have left?