The Pit of Darkness

The Beginning

I was thirteen going on to fourteen when it happened. The guys at school made fun of me as soon as my "best friend" let it slip.

I was still crazy terrified of the dark.

Flashlights, night lights, candles, everything! I started getting beat up for it, too. There was one day, however, when it was particularly bad.

"You gonna get up?" Laughed Jake. Jake was about two feet taller than me, had black hair and dark green eyes, and above all else, a taste for blood. He was my main tormentor. Laughing at me and making fun of me. At first it was stupid stuff, fake spiders in my lunch, taking the flashlight I kept in my backpack, and the occasional wedgie. Then, something in Jake's mind snapped. He'd tell me to meet him by a playground a block away from school, where he'd beat me up. If I didn't show without a good excuse they'd either expect a favor or beat me extra hard.

"I can't get up." I said. "Well you better because I'm not through with you!" Jake smirked. I knew better than to question him, so I groaned and got up. My hand and knees were scraped and I was going to have a black eye. Jake went to punch me and I cowered back, hoping it wouldn't bruise me. Him and his posse of three other guys (Andy and Brandon, also known as Crusher and Killer) laughed.

That's when I heard it. A voice that sounded familiar and filled me with dread: mom. "What do you boys think you're doing to my son?" She growled. "We were just having some fun and he fell down!" Crusher lied. "Yeah right, I saw that fist be raised. Now, Jake, is it?" She was getting to something. "Jake Davis, yes miss." Jake said as he tried to put on his best act. "Your mother and I serve on the fundraiser committee together! I'm sure she'd be so sad to hear about this," My Mom hinted, "Don't ever do this again." Jake nodded at her sharp tone and he and his cronies got out of there.

To most, this would be a relief. To me, it meant a bigger beating. "Let's get you home." My Mom sighed as we went to the car. My first question for her was what she was doing there. "I went to pick you up because I got off work early and you weren't there. I asked a kid and he told me you'd be there." She answered. She then started up the car and began to drive, asking me questions, "Do those boys do that a lot? How long has this been going on? Why are they doing that? Why do you let them?"

So, I told her everything, "They do it almost every single day, it's been going on for a year, they're doing it because they like to make fun of me, I let them because if I fight back they hit me harder, and they don't want to get caught so they just kick me in my stomach or places I can cover, but Friday they tend to hit my face, so I use cover up or some kind of makeup to hide it."
She was shocked, I could tell, but that didn't stop her from asking a question, "Why do they do this?"

I took a deep breath. I wasn't ready to tell my mom I was still so afraid. I'd be up after her and then I'd turn on my lights and the night light she hardly noticed. I'd wake up at the same time so I could quickly turn them off seconds before she came to flick them on in order to wake me. We never had a power outage, so they wasn't an issue. But now, there was no way around it. No way around the fear.

So, I swallowed my pride and told my mom, "I'm still afraid and they found out. So, I'm weak." She sighed, "Why didn't you tell me? Do you need help?" "I can handle it and I just didn't want you to know. Please just don't say anything to anyone." I sighed. "Do you need to see Dr. Kate?" She asked. I shook my head, Dr. Kate was my therapist, "No. No I haven't seen her in two years I'm fine."

"Are you?" She whispered, almost to herself, as we pulled into my driveway. I bolted from the car and up the porch of our small, white house . I didn't stop when she called my name and I didn't stop when I heard the door shut behind me. I ran up to my room because of the sense of dread I felt.

I'd promised myself I'd never tell her, she didn't need the stress. I turned on my light and blocked out all the shadows of the room. I wanted the day to end and yet I didn't want the night to come.

The next day was worse than that one. I knew, with a heavy heart, I'd have to go to the playground after school and get beaten even worse. Sure enough, I went and they we're waiting for me. "Where's your mommy?" Jake sneered. "Is she coming to save you?" One of the cronies laughed. I turned bright red from embarrassment and anger, "would you hurry up and hit me already?"

"Oh no, I'm doing something worse." Jake said as Killer came up behind me and blindfolded me. I instantly screamed from reflex and that made them all laugh. "You scared?" I heart a voice taunt. In response I could only whimper (which caused more laughter). "We're gonna take a little trip." I could hear the smirk in Jake's voice as two hands grabbed my sides and started leading me somewhere.

I knew where when I felt my face be shoved into water. I couldn't breathe and I tried screaming but that didn't stop them from dunking my head over and over in the boys' bathroom in the back of my school. The thing that terrified me was not the constant flushing, or the pain of being forced in there, it was the blindfold they'd kept on.

That added with the water made me feel like I was drowning, and then I realized, I was. I started kicking and screaming, having a full on panic attack. This made them stop and pull me out, leaning me against the stall. "What's wrong with him? Did we do it too long?" Crusher asked. "No he's just scared. Only like, a lot." Killer said as I shook and tried not to sob, memories rushing back to me. Cold winter nights and a bonfire in our back yard, dad laughing before he died, my mother telling me stories to help me sleep, and above all else: the monster in my closet. I shuddered and started rocking back in forth. "Should we get help?" Killer squinted. "No, you idiot, we'll get caught!" Jake hissed, "let's leave him here."

Then I heard feet running away. My heart rate spiking, I fumbled with the blindfold, trying to get it off. When I did, I started to breathe again, but not without seeing spots.