Why I Prefer the Dark

The Mind Reader

It was dark. Peaceful and comfortable. I liked it there, but it hadn't always been the same.

As a kid, I was too scared of the dark, never slept with lights off because I was afraid that an arm with sharp, long fingers would stretch out from any of those ghastly shadows or those dense, tenebrous corners and drag me into their endless world of fear and trauma. I was always concerned about not drinking anything before I went to bed so I would not have to wake up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. And yet, it did not do any good. On many of those silent nights, I woke up thirsty, but the kitchen was much closer than the bathroom from my bedroom, so it went a little too good until I turned ten.

That year when the summer holidays were just about to start, my mother and my little brother decided to visit my mother's parents, leaving me, my father, and the feeling that it would be a little more lonely in the house. There was nothing to worry about in the daytime, but my fear would rise inversely proportional as the sun went down. As the darkness approached, I would turn ON every last light in the house, crawl into my bed, and wait for my father to come from work. His scolding about leaving the lights ON never bothered me, not more than the unknown sinister of the dark.

I was not sure why I feared the darksome so much. Maybe because it engulfs you. And you don't know where to look for monsters and gleaming yellow-red eyes. All you do is hear. You hear those voices your parents told you that it's just in your head, but a part of you knows it's real. Someone or something is calling out your name. Whispers; that you can't sleep with just having imagined them. Whispers; that can give you chills in mid-June or break a sweat on a freezing night in December, and sometimes, both.

One such torrid evening, I was in my bed with every light ON, waiting for my father. And with my bad luck, happened the last thing I ever wanted. Our whole block had a power cut! I froze in fear! It was not like something came running at me, so my reflexes could get time to analyze the situation and act in response. It was like it happened in yocto-seconds. It was as if someone had injected pounds of adrenaline into my bloodstream. My heart stopped. I was instantly sent to my worst nightmare; nigritude. I could feel every last cell of my body shaking in horror. It was the hottest week of the month, and here I was, shivering like a lamb. I couldn't see anything. It was uttermost black as if nothing else was there in the out-and-out universe except the bed I was sitting on. I waited...holding down my breath, for something creepy to happen, but no monster jumped me. Nothing crawled from under my bed, and no yellow-red evil eyes blinked. I had barely got hold of my senses when I heard it.

'Vijay!'

It was like a slow, dreamy female voice with no apparent source calling someone. I felt chills down my spine.

"It's in my head. It's in my head." I tried to calm myself down but shuddered when I heard it again.

'Viijaay....'

Whose voice was this, and who was it calling to? Who was this Vijay? Before I could even think of anything stupid and muster enough strength to do it, I felt something slipping on my skin. It was cold and porous. Once again, I heard it.

'Vijay!'

Then I realized that 'something' was the darkness, and it was all over me. I was covered in a dark, dense, dead, and cold substance.

"That voice! Is it...darkness? Is it my darkness??" I asked myself as I was bathing in the darkness.

Suddenly, I realized I was no longer shivering or scared of the dark anymore. I was feeling calm deep inside and out. I wondered if that was my fear itself being released. Do we all have our darkness inside us, which needs a perfect opportunity to sneak out? I didn't remember what happened next. All I knew for sure was that I was fast asleep in my bed before we had powers back and before my father came home.