Fear is a powerful thing. Fear is a guardian, a protector. And yet, sometimes, fear is not enough. This is for the women who died afraid.

Fear electrifies us. It enhances our senses, starts a fire inside us. Some mistake it for adrenaline, and in more cases than not, the two coincide. Maybe fear and adrenaline work together to give us a chance. Maybe fear kickstarts our adrenaline because it knows. She knows. She knows we will need her help to get out. To escape. To run from whatever situation we just found ourselves in. She knows we will need to see more, hear more, feel more, think more. You wouldn’t normally see the broken glass bottle on the ground, but fear shows you that could be a life line. You wouldn’t normally pay any attention to the gap in the chain link gate. Small enough that maybe you could fit through easier than them. Just a second or two faster than them. Just a second or two is all you need. To run. Fear will help you. So you run.

But even with fear and adrenaline pushing you further and faster than you thought you could ever go, they are faster. How are they faster? Fear is on your side. She is on your side! But she does not always succeed. And she mourns when she fails. Mourns with your friends and families. Grieves with them. She is powerful, yet sometimes, still not enough. And we mourn. We mourn and grieve and think, maybe, just maybe, if we ran just a little faster, we could’ve made it. But that’s all it was. A maybe. Fear is a protector, but a maybe. Fear is an unreliable life line, and a maybe. A powerful maybe.