Facing the Dark

Being afraid of the dark doesn't always mean you're afraid of darkness. Often, it mean's you're afraid of what you'll find in that darkness ... especially if it something you can't see.

Facing the Dark
Copyright 2008 by Heather Rose Brown
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I was lying on my back in bed, listening to the downpour thrumming against my window pane and staring at the shadows cast on the ceiling by the slowly dimming flashlight, when I heard the faint scritching. Common sense told me it was just the bushes in front of the house being blown around and scratching against the aluminum siding, but my imagination kept on associating the noise with all kinds of vaguely defined terrors.

Despite my fear, exhaustion was slowly pulling my eyelids closed. Just as I was starting to drift off to sleep, the faint light from the flashlight blinked off. My heart thumped against my ribcage and cold sweat broke out on my forehead when I found myself surrounded by suffocating darkness. I burrowed deeper into my covers and tried to tell myself I should just go to sleep and ignore my imagination.

That lasted about three seconds. 

I blindly groped across the table beside my bed until my fingers were wrapped around the reassuringly familiar shape of a cold, steel tube. I thumped the base of the flashlight against my hand until my palm was starting to feel bruised, but my efforts were rewarded when a dim light stuttered back to life. As my eyes drank in the comforting glow, I realized this was only a temporary reprieve. What I really needed to do is go into the kitchen for more batteries.

Eventually, my reluctance to leave my bed was overcome by the fear of being left in the dark again. Holding the flashlight gingerly so whatever had made the light come back on wouldn't come loose, I shuffled out of my bedroom and down the long, shadowy hallway until I found my way to the kitchen. 

While searching through the drawers by the sink, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window. The rain running down the glass made it more distorted than I would have expected, and the light right under my chin cast strange, eerie shadows across my face. 

It wasn't until the flashlight died that I realized I hadn't been looking at my reflection.

Zounds Like A Bit Of A Dream

And that the author was still half way asleep for the story. I know that I myself have been half in a dream until something has jolted me awake many a night. Good story Heather :-)
May Your Light Forever Shine

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