I am Scared of the Dark

I am scared of the dark. At nineteen years old, it’s a little embarrassing to say out loud, but it needs to come out one way or another. I wasn’t always scare of the dark; it began when I was very young though, living with my grandparents. I would always sleep with my door open to cool my room down. My bed faced the door, so I got a full view of the hallway. It was okay for a long time, then he came. He doesn’t have a name, let alone a face. All I knew about him was he was a man.

His broad shoulders gave it away; along with the deep, raspy breaths. For years, I would wake up to my dog growling followed by heavy footsteps. I would freeze with my eyes open, making sure not to make a move. Listening to the steps, he would finally stop outside my door. Now, when I told people this, they just said it was my Uncle coming home and checking up on me. The next part though, it shot that theory down. The door frame was 6 feet tall, my Uncle was only 5 foot 9 inches. The figure went above the doorframe, having to lean down to stare at me. As I would watch him slowly put his head down is when I would wish I could shut my eyes. I was in a trance though, so I was forced to keep them open. It was his ruby red eyes that stared my down that scarred me. Once he made eye contact, he would whisper things. Unintelligible things. I tried to understand, but I never could. After what felt like eternities, He would finally leave. His heavy footsteps trailing off

This was the start of my fear of the dark. The shadow that was outlined in it. I never leaves my head. I started to sleep with my door closed, but when I would wake up it would be open. Believe it or not, it was him. The figure in the night. He started it all.

Now, like I said, it was just the beginning. It followed me into my first year of high school. At this point, the shadows had stopped showing up as often. I would find out the goblin in my chair was just my jacket and backpack. The creeping ghoul in my closet was just a sweater that caught onto the door. Everything started to debunk itself. Occasionally, I would see something though. All I had to do was turn on the light or shut my eyes as tightly as possible. It became easy to sleep again. But another shadow showed up, who wanted to do much more than stare at me. I was in band, so after practice I typically came home and watched a movie to relax before bed. At this point, we lived with my older cousin, who had friends over pretty often. This night, he had his friend Payton. He had a crush on me, from what my cousin told me, and sat and he watched the movie with me. It was the Amityville Horror, so I was getting a little scared be only 15 years old. As the movie started to end, Payton began to move closer to me. Trying to put him arm around my shoulder or holding my hand. I was not interested in him. He was unattractive and didn’t have much of a personality. So to get away from him, I got up to go to my room. I was ready to sleep the night away.

That’s the last thing that went through my mind before I felt a tug back and my head hit the coffee table. The complete darkness engulfed me; I was unconscious and oblivious to whatever was happening to me. I didn’t dream, just pure black. Soon, light started to flood into my eyes, although very dull. I moaned from the throbbing in my head. As soon as I did, a hand covered my mouth. A heavy feeling was compressing my chest. When my vision focused, I saw him on top of me. That shadowy figure was dark, but he wasn’t just staring at me this time. I could feel movement. I could hear his deep breathes. I could hear his whispering this time. I didn’t like what he was saying; it was so devilish. With his hands on my throat he said, “If you scream, I’ll choke you until you pass out again”. I was so confused, what was he doing to me. The voice was from Payton, but I swear it wasn’t him. It wasn’t the guy who had been so nice, who would turn that quickly? The television light shone onto the face, and I saw his eyes. They weren’t red this time. They were a medium-brown; A color that I hate still. My trust had gone away and tears started to roll down my cheeks. The figure was him, just in a different body.

That night I had realized my fear wasn’t of the dark, it was of the shadows that lurked inside. He still lurks in the dark as a shadow, but overtime I learned something. Shadows went away in the total light or complete darkness. So whenever I see him, I shut my eyes as tight as I can or run to the light switch, and he goes away. So at nineteen years old, I will say I am scared of the dark. But I am even more terrified of the ones who lurk there.