Darkness

What would you do if you woke up in darkness? Well the average light sleeping person would think nothing of it. Midnight is usually a very dark hour. But the darkness I woke up in was not ordinary.

It was as black as pitch. I’m sure if you breathed in a gulp of that bone dry, ice cold air, you could choke on it. When I woke up, I was sure I’d gone blind. I sat up and groped around for the flashlight on my bedside table. But instead of feeling the smooth, polished wood, my hand continued down to the floor. Instead of my fuzzy carpet, cold tile met my fingers. My hand retracted instantly. Where was I?

“You’re here. You’re there. It’s a bit like everywhere.” A voice rang through my ears, and I froze. Being the stubborn guy I was, I figured I watched a little too much TV last night, and this is some dream as a result of it.

“No, Silas, this isn’t a dream. Nor is it a nightmare. Come to think of it, this is very real.” The word ‘very’ had a strange tone that sent a chill down my spine. The voice was unrecognizable. It was not male, or female. I couldn’t recognize an accent either. It seemed to change by the second.

“I know you’re scared, Silas, but you can’t keep that fear bottled up inside you. That fear will eat its way out if you don’t express it.” There it was: that same frightening tone. I shivered at the thought. ‘Eat its way out’?

“Good, Silas; spill out your fear.” The voice grew stronger. Ha! I have one heck of an imagination.

“If this is just your imagination, Silas, would you feel this?” A blow to my right shoulder sent me careening out of what I thought was my bed into a hard surface I assumed was a wall. A sharp pane singed down my right shoulder into my hand. That confirmed my worst fear. This was real.

The pain in my right arm kept me alert, but for the moment, the voice was nowhere to be heard. Standing myself up, I strained my eyes as best as I could to see anything. But the blackness enveloped me like a thick, murky sludge. I was finding it hard to breath. Maybe my claustrophobia was getting the best of me.

“But isn’t claustrophobia when you’re in tight spaces?” The voice was back. “Oh, that’s right. This is a tight space, isn’t it, Silas? You have nowhere to go, nothing to do, and nothing to say, since your mouth is dried shut. All you can do is sit and wait for your mind to wear away...for your emotions to get the better of you...and for your own demise.” A faint, sinister chuckle rang through my ears. Was I really going to die here? I mustered up the courage, and the spit, to reply to the mysterious voice.

“Who are you?” My voice was surprisingly strong. “And what do you want with me?”

“Ah, if I told you who I was, Silas, that would ruin the suspense and my evil vibe, don’t you think? After all…you have experience with villainy, am I right? Ah, but of course I'm right.” The same chuckle as before burned my ears. “And if you honestly want to know what I want you for, it’s your fear.” Those crazy accented words were definetly getting to my head.

“Stop it!” I retorted, now lightly shaking. Whether it was from fear or the pain in my arm, I’m not sure.

“Ah, but you see, Silas, that’s the whole point. Didn’t I mention before that if your fear was kept inside it would eat its way out? I would prefer you express your fear, like you just did, shivering like an Eskimo. That way I can continue living off of it. Once the fear finds an alternate route out of you, how should I put this…you won’t be able to be scared anymore. And I won’t be able to live, either. But if you keep feeding me with your fear, we can both live forever.”

“So it’s in our best interest for you to keep being scared and showing it for eternity, isn’t it, Silas? After all, your only other option would be suicide, wouldn’t it? And I know how much you’re scared of death.”

A strong, loud wind rose up out of nowhere. It hurled me into the air with the force of a tornado then it sent me crashed me down to the floor. My arm felt like it was on fire.

“NO!” I yelled, stifling a scream. How did this voice know everything bout me? Why was it choosing a 15-year-old boy like me to ‘feed’ off of? Would I be forced to choose to be tortured like this for eternity? I would go insane very soon, I’m sure of it. Maybe this voice would decide to leave me and my psychotic self alone and choose another victim to suck the fear and life out of. The questions shooting through my head sent my heart racing. I collapsed to my knees, my face in my one moveable hand. I never knew I could crack under pressure so easily.

“You know you want to scream. SCREAM, SILAS! SCREAM!” The voice roared. I couldn’t let this voice take over me. I wouldn’t scream. I would calm down. But my heart was speeding up. The voice was yelling louder.

“SCREAM!!!”

All of a sudden, there was peace, comfort, and light: a bright light. I was lying down with my eyes shut tight. I tried to sit up, but my hurting right arm was preventing me from doing so. Was I in heaven? Was there pain in heaven? No, heaven has no pain. At that moment a horrible thought occurred to me. My eyes flew open. The bright light burned my eyes. I squinted, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. After a short while, I found myself staring at the flashlight on my bedside table. I was home? No more darkness? My arm still throbbed as I slowly got out of bed.

“Gooooooooooooood morning, Miami!” I practically fell over. “It’s a sunny Sunday and it’s going to be a greeeeeeeeeeeat day!” The radio announcer laughed, almost giving me a heart attack. I smacked my radio, shutting me off from the over-caffeinated voice. I needed to think, even thought the pain in my arm was excruciating. What in the world just happened to me? All of a sudden, a disturbing presence filled the room.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, Silas. That was only a preview, if you will, of what I can do to you. Just wait until you go to sleep. I know you can’t live without sleep. I’ll be waiting for you.”