The Sky Is Falling

I have a fear of large objects falling on me or my beloveds.  Sometimes it's a bit irrational and I can be a little dramatic.  I remember when I was a tween (not that we were called "tweens" back then) my bedroom was under the den, and my bed was directly under the baby grand piano in the den.  One night, as I was trying to fall asleep all I could think about was the floor giving way and this 100 ton piano crushing me to smithereens.  I had convinced myself that the floor could in no way hold up that piano and at the exact moment that I would drift off to an oblivious slumber it would come crashing through the weakened floor boards and I'd be toast.  I insisted that my sister switch beds with me.  (I was a really sweet sister, can you tell?)  The rational part of my brain knew that wasn't going to happen so I felt okay with sacrificing my younger sibling to it's imminent destruction, but the crazy part wanted nothing to do with it.  

Since then I have been able to somewhat rein in that fear, but it still gets me sometimes, like when this came to our home:  

This giant mirror belongs to my parents but at the moment they have no place for it.  Lucky for them we had a blank wall and only good intentions to hang things up there, so the mirror came to live with us.  It's huge.  I don't know if you can tell, but it's almost as wide as our couch and very nearly fills the space between the ceiling and the top of the couch.  (Nevermind the popcorn ceiling and the painted over wood paneling.  Our place hearkens from the era of hippies and shag carpeting.)  Anyway, I was terrified when the thing went up.  My beloveds and I frequently sit on that couch and more than once I've thought of it crashing down on our unsuspecting heads, it's only hanging up there by a wire and two nails, after all.   

Living in apartment buildings freak me out for that same reason.  

What are you afraid of?