Fear can take many forms. We all have experienced at least one of them at some time in our lives and have stayed in our minds crystal clear. There is the fear of height and the fear of death, the fear of closed in places and the fear of dark, just to name of few. When I think of fear, I remember the room located in my step father's house and my step father himself I have feared. The first time I looked at him, my eyes immediately focused on his vicious-looking face.
My step-father was a tall, husky man, with an abnormally short pair of legs supporting a six-foot inch, a squre body frame and weighing about 250 pounds. He had a big head and a wide neck and his legs seemed out of proportion to the rest of his body. He had dark brown eyes and a short cropped hair and a number of wrinkles on his forehead.
Again, I say he had an huge, oversized head and neck so wide that his head seemed to be sitting directly on his shoulders. The only time I noticed his neck was during his fit of rage when his veins bulged out so far, I thought that they were going to burst.
The deep, leathery creases in his forehead hung down over his cold, dark chocolate-brown eyes in such a way that it would have been physically impossible for him to change his ferocious countenance and he had a wide, flattened, pudgy, scrunched up nose. His pudgy, flattened nose seemed perfectly suited to the rest of his sagging dog face.
He wore a permanent scowl. His mouth drooped so low that his sagging jowls scraped his collar.
He could absolutely terrorize me by simply looking at me straight...