When I was about 8 or so I was walking down the road with my mate Dave. We'd been to the corner shop and bought a 10p mix [which in those days was only 5p] and were casually meandering back. It was a warm day, I remember that because it was one of about four warm days I experienced during my childhood. Anyway, we're walking along and I spy some kids up ahead. Three of them probably about 11 years old if they were a day. Now, the thought process is as follows:

"Oh no! Big kids. What if they beat us up?! What if they take our 10p mixes! What if THEY KILL US??!!"

As casually as was possible with hot terror bubbling in our throats, we cross the road to the other side and tried our best to look invisible when we walked by. They didn't even notice we were there. But they could have! And that's the key.

When I was a kid anyone even a little older was a potential threat. Big kids would pick on you, teenagers might say words you didn't understand and then laugh because you didn't understand them, making you feel foolish [some kids once asked me if I was tired, and then told me I should go and have 40 wanks] and adults?! Fuck that noise! They could hit you, kidnap you, tell your Mum and Dad that you said 'bugger' that time! Who needs that in their lives?

We were trained to fear our elders. Whenever we'd misbehave my Mum would point to the closest man and say "Pack that in, or the Mester will come and take you away!" We'd look at the man, examining him for any signs of a giant net or ice cream van that turns into a cage ALA The Child Catcher, and then we'd behave on the off chance he was hiding them somewhere. Better safe than kidnapped! This was in the 80s and early 90s, when there weren't any paedophiles and no one ever really got snatched apart from maybe someone in Grange Hill. There was no Sarah's Law. There was no need for one. The moment any one of us caught site of someone we didn't recognise from our class at school we were off, into the long grass or up a tree, lest we be spotted and be told to piss our bums and then laughed at when we looked bewildered.

It was scary being a child, but in the back of your head you'd think "It's alright. Soon I'll be older and then people will be scared of me instead.”

Except, it's 18 years later and if I walk down the street and spot a handful of 11 year olds, I'm much more likely to cross over than they are. NOTHING has changed for me. Teenagers still might say words I don't understand then laugh [I was once called a ‘Jar’, to uproarious laughter by the group], an adult could still murder me at a moments notice and take my shoes. It's bollocks! Kids are meant to be running from me by now! Off up a tree or into a privet hedge just to avoid my glare! But they're bloody not. They front up to you and shout things, throw bits of stick and call you a mug! It's a nightmare. I don't deserve this! I've done my time in the fear cupboard, it's my turn to be the monster!

I was once referred to by a mother as The Mester in order to get her kid to stop being a dick, but he looked me over and instantly concluded I was no threat to him or his operation and carried on screaming and demanding a Kinder Egg.

I don't know what shifted but it must have happened in the late 90s, when I was arriving at the point where I was to be feared. I was 15! I'd had a drink, I'd smoked, I'd gotten laid. I'd done it all! Surely my worldly experience was enough to inspire terror in the young and very young alike! Regard, if you dare, my spiky fringe and rebellious swagger! I do as I please and call no man Mister, so why are those year 7's giggling at me and calling me Pramfresh? ARE THEY NOT AFRAID?!

No, is the answer. No bastard is. The only person living in fear is me, still, and it's worse now because I doubt I could even get up a tree. Plus I never figured out how to piss my bum.

Fear to Fear - Brought to you by Gazz Wood -