Fear Frontier

Meant for the prompt, Write a story about someone confronting their worst nightmare.

My name is Danielle Picotte.

I have arachnophobia.

I realize my fear is irrational. I can’t help it. I see a spider and I panic. I shake, I cry, I can’t breathe.

I get anxious at the sight of a web. The thought that one could be lurking nearby possesses my mind. I can’t concentrate on anything else. It can interfere with daily and leisurely activities.

I’m a teacher who couldn’t teach her class one day because a student said they saw a spider in my classroom. It’s that bad.

My boyfriend, Mark, came home from work one day and found me on top of the bathroom sink, hugging my knees, crying hysterically. There was no spider in sight, but I had seen one. I knew it was around somewhere. I was too afraid to get down off the sink.

Mark sent an email to a TV show called Fear Frontier explaining my condition. The show has contestants face their fear in extreme circumstances in order to conquer said fear. If they do, they are awarded one hundred grand. 

I had no knowledge of the email, so it was a complete surprise when I got a call from the show’s producer, Roger Steinbeck.

It was a horrible call. Just talking about spiders induces a great deal of anxiety. I can’t help it, but I feel like something is crawling on me when talking about spiders. I hate that sensation. Roger and I went back and forth as he tried to convince me that most spiders are harmless, their bites being not much more than a mosquito bite. The image in my mind of those little spider fangs sinking into my skin was more than could be reasoned with.

Then he hit my weak spot.

Mark must have told Roger about my sick little brother and my families struggle with the medical bills. I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but I agreed to be a contestant on Fear Frontier.

The show flew us from St. Paul to L.A., put us up in a nice hotel, and provided a shuttle to the studio. We were met at the gate by Roger’s assistant, Gus. As we drove through the lot, we found it pretty cool to see TV crews hustling and bustling on the job while TV stars took their breaks like office workers complete with cigarettes and coffees in their hands. Gus gave us a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the show and a tour of the studio. We got to meet the show’s host, Bryan Shepherd. He talked with Mark and I for a while, getting an idea of the extent of my phobia. Then I was rushed off to make-up.

We got to watch the first contestant from director chairs on a large screen TV. It was being live streamed from an undisclosed location.

The contestant’s name was Harvey Wilks, an accountant from Little Rock, Arkansas. His fear was heights. His fear wasn’t irrational like mine. He had fallen out of a tree when he was six, breaking his collar bone. Ever since then, he has been terrified of heights. He wasn’t even able to sleep on the top bunk of his bunk bed growing up.

To confront his fear, Harvey had to stand on the edge of the rooftop of a five-hundred-and-fifty-foot skyscraper for sixty seconds.

I watched as they sinched Harvey into a harness. He started bouncing up and down, shaking his joints loose. I could tell he was psyching himself up the way professional fighters do, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to face. He took a deep breath and let it out, summoning courage, and marched towards the ledge.

He started to climb up, but when he saw the street below, he turned and slid down along the wall, sitting on the roof. His breathing looked rapid, and his eyes looked wild. His fight or flight mechanism was kicking in. He reached up and grabbed the ledge to pull himself back up. His legs trembled and ultimately failed him. He dropped back down to the roof shaking his head no. They cut to a commercial.

Roger and the director went over how the next segment was going to go with me. Bryan was going to introduce me and then I was going to get in the box, which was more like an oversized fishtank. After that they would insert the spiders for sixty seconds before removing them. I could have the spiders removed at any point before the sixty seconds were over, but if I did, I would forfeit the money. “Places, everybody,” the director shouted, and we were back on the air.

“Welcome back to Fear Frontier. I’m your host, Bryan Shepherd. In the studio today, we have Danielle Picotte, a middle school teacher from St. Paul, Minnesota who suffers from arachnophobia, the irrational fear of spiders. Arachnophobia affects roughly fifteen percent of the population, so it’s not entirely rare. It’s considered irrational because there is no explanation for it, no triggering event that caused the initial fear. Danielle experiences terror and panic at the sight of a spider, obsessive worrying at any sign of a spider that affects her everyday life, and experiences anxiety just talking about the creature. Danielle, how are you feeling?”

“Scared,” I told him, swallowing hard. “If it were not for my brother being sick, there is no way you would get me in that box.”

“Danielle’s brother suffers from Leukemia. Medical bills are piling up on her single mom who is trying to hold down two full-time jobs and care for her son. Danielle is not only facing her fears, but she is also trying to help her family, so we are rooting for her to succeed in her challenge. Daniell, if would, please,” Bryan said, gesturing to the box.

My brain wouldn’t let it go. I kept trying to think of my sick brother and tired mother back home, but all I could think about was what was about to happen next. With tears forming in my eyes, and the pit of my stomach bottoming out, I got into the human sized fishtank. I laid down, crossing my arms over my chest, took a deep breath and let it out. I shuddered.

“For Danielle’s challenge she will have to remain in the box with three Goliath bird-eater tarantulas for sixty seconds.”

My eyes sprang wide open. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I wanted to scream and run out of there. They didn’t say anything about tarantulas. And bird-eater? I was wondering wat the hell that meant.

“The Goliath bird-eater is the world’s heaviest spider weighing in at just over six ounces. It’s body length is five inches, and their leg span is twelve inches. Their bite is comparable to a wasp sting and their hairs can be irritating. Danielle, are you ready?”

I thought my heart was going to stop from over exertion just from listening to him. I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, let it out, and said, “Just get it over with.”

The handlers laid the damn things on me. Each one felt like a kitten, if kittens had itchy hair, and creepy little tickly legs that scurried along your body.

Chills ran up my spine and every muscle tensed. I was too scared to make a sound, too scared to move.

I could feel two of them fighting on my stomach. I was scared I’d become a casualty of war. I could feel them bouncing up and down, lunging at each other.

The third one was crawling up my bare arm. It tickled and itched. I drove me crazy. I so badly wanted to tell them to get the damn things off me. It moved up my arm and onto my shoulder. It scurried up my neck onto my face. I thought my teeth were going to shatter because I was clenching them so hard.

 “Ten seconds,” I heard Bryan say.

I felt its leg touch my eye. Its fangs were touching my nose. I swear it was tasting me. I swear it was thinking about biting me. I wet myself on live TV at that moment. I was just about to throw myself out of the box and run out of there screaming and crying when I heard Bryan say, “Time!”

Quickly the handlers removed the arachnids from the box. When I felt their weight off me, I sat up and screamed. I couldn’t stop screaming. I was crying hysterically. It was much worse than when I was trapped on top of the sink. Mark ran up stage to comfort me as I fumbled my way out of the box. I was hyperventilating, struggling for air.

“You did it, Danielle. You confronted your fear, and you’ve won one hundred thousand dollars,” Bryan said, excitedly. “How do you feel?”

I couldn’t answer. I just stood there shaking, tears rolling down my cheeks, a huge wet spot on my pants for the world to see, drenched in sweat. They cut to a commercial.

I heard someone say, ‘Get her out of here.’ I guess they were mad that my fear wasn’t conquered. I guess they expected me to thank the show for curing me of my phobia. All I wanted to do was go home.

I received my prize money two weeks later. After taxes, we only received sixty thousand, which helped, but not as much as we hoped. Mom is still working two jobs.

I’ve had reoccurring nightmares since being on that show. In my dreams, I’m running from giant spiders who always catch me. Just as they are about to sink their fangs into me, I wake up screaming, the bed soaked with sweat. I went to a psychologist about it. He diagnosed me with PTSD. I now have a colorful cocktail of pills I take every day.

Mark and I broke up. His intentions were in the right place, but our relationship was never the same after that day.

Not a day goes by where I can’t help wondering if it was worth it.