Line Story: Darkened Fear

Darkened Fear

The darkness invaded without a sound.  A slow and creeping shadow of fear.  It did not come suddenly, and maybe that would have made the fear less profound.  It built upon itself.  Made itself.  Brought together by nothingness, from nothingness.  The night was living.  It hung out just beyond the doors.  Creeping close to the light that cut it open. 

It did not bleed.

Things grew from the shadows.  Living nightmares born from nightmares.   It shaped into being just beyond vision.  Teasing, tormenting.  Swirling around me as it choked the very voice from within my throat. 

The night cages the living.

I was trapped within the light by my fear.  I fear every night, for as long as my memory.  For, within the shadows of night, my imagination soared.  My imagination gives power to the night.  Gave it a weapon to use.

As a child, I would build an army against the night. The Bear Army, I had called them, and blankets were my fortress and my bunker.  I built a Wall of China around me, and I posted tiny bears just inside it.  They looked out for me.

I tried to seek my imagination upon itself.

The fear of the dark never seceded, and it never stopped being tormenting.  It was living and wasn’t ready to die just yet.

“You’re too old to be scared of the dark,” my mother would scold me so. “It just your imagination, sweetie, so go to bed.”

She did not understand.  The night held no power on her.  The things in the dark did not manifest just outside of vision, as it did for me.  She did not wonder what swirled in the darkened windows.  Did not fear the darkness that peeked from under her door or hid under her bed.

My imagination danced wild within the dark.

I would stay up late into the night from fear.  My lights on and my mind busy.  I passed time with books and games.  I would glance at the dark from time to time, and when sleep would be too desperate to be ignored, I’ll shin a hall light upon my bed.  My sword against the night.  It would protect me when my eyes were closed.

“It is not so silly that humans do fear the night,” my psychology professor once said, “This is because it is not uncommon that horrible things take life under the shadows.  It has been so for so long. It is nature.”

The night made people vulnerable with the unknown.  Bad things happened then.  The night concealed it.  It made bad things more powerful.  It made bad people feel invincible. People start to anticipate, grow anxious, and fear blooms.