I walked across the lawn of Light Shades Daycare to pick up my niece. In the middle of Fall, the leaves crunched under my feet as I walked to the door and went inside. About 25 children where running around doing various activities. My niece catches my eye and smiles, waiving at me. She starts to say goodbye to her friends and gathers her stuff from her cubbie. As I stood there waiting, I noticed that a little girl, separated from the others, was alone in the corner coloring. She seemed focused on the piece of paper that she colored on. I walked over because I was curious of what she was creating that captivated her so. I drew closer until I was standing 3 feet away from her. The picture that was entrancing her was nothing but a sheet of paper being filled with black crayon. She didn't look up or bat an eye. Coloring vigorously. Almost in a sort of panic. Filling in every gap of white. Until it was completely black. She stopped suddenly when there was no more page to fill in. The crayon still in her fingers resting on the page. She quickly turns to me, and this is when I realize she is pale. Not only pale, but her skin is gray. Her eyes have dark circles under them and she has an all around look of exhaustion in her eyes. But also.. relief. Like she just set something heavy down that she's been carrying for a long time. She hands me the paper. And without thinking, I slowly take it. She smiles at me and drops the crayon while getting up from her seat. I hear my niece call my name from behind me. She is at the door, ready to go. I start to back up towards the door. Looking at the page, and back to the girl. She is still looking at me with a calming smile. Then turning, she takes her eyes off of me and goes to play with the other children. I turn towards my niece who is starting to lose patients with me. I look one more time at the page, then I fold it up and put it in my pocket leaving the building with my niece. I arrive home at my small apartment after dropping my niece off at my sisters house. throwing the keys on the counter, I realize how tired I am. It's 3:00 and I was supposed to meet up with some friends at 3:30 to play poker. I text them saying I won't be able to make it to poker then turn off my phone and set it on the counter next to my keys.I sit down on my couch and pull the page out from my pocket. I unfold it and look at it. A wave of relief comes over me. This is when I realize I was tense. My shoulders droop down and I breath a sigh of relief. The picture is captivating. I can't take my eyes off it. I feel safety. Calmness. But at the same time, a weight. Heaviness. I come to my senses and fold the page, putting it back in my pocket. I sit there for a few more seconds staring at the blank TV screen until I get up and go to the kitchen for food. Three days later, I'm sitting on my couch smoking a cigarette. I don't eat much and I spend my days staring at the blank TV. I keep the page in my pocket, pulling it out all the time to look at it. My friends and family text and call me, but I don't answer, I have fallen into a numb state of mind. A heaviness has attached itself to my mind. I am spiraling downwards. It's been 2 weeks since the page has come to me. I feel an emotional attachment to it. I don't leave my apartment, I ran out of food 3 days ago and I haven't showered for a week. I began to copy the page with my own crayons. Filling in white computer paper until the whole page is black. When I ran out of black crayons I started photo-copying the original page and printing them out until I ran out of black ink. The pages are tacked up all over my apartment so I can always look at them. But none of the pages of black give me the satisfaction and calmness that the original gives. One day as I was huddled in my bedroom closet with a candle and a few of the pages, I came to a realization. The original, compared to the other pages, has become quite faded. I start panicking and as I struggle to compare all the pages I hold, I knock over the candle and it goes out, leaving me in darkness. I stumble and fall out of the closet. It's dark in my room due to the blankets I nailed to the windows, blocking out all natural light so I don't know what time of day it is. I run frantically around my small apartment comparing the original page to all the others. I have become week from lack of food and sleep. I stumble and fall down as I gather all the pages and put them in a pile on my couch. Running into the bathroom for the pages I keep in there, I stumble and trip on some towels I left on the ground. I fall and hit my head on the glass sink. Darkness. I see nothing. I feel nothing. Where am I? Appearing form the dark void, I see myself. I'm sleeping, and I look sick. My skin is gray and there are dark circles around my sunken eyes. I'm skinny and ragged. How did this happen. I notice also, that there is a different kind of darkness here. A more physical kind creeping up from behind the vision of myself in front of me. I crane my head to get a better look and the person in front of me rotates around so I can see the back. I see it then, a darkness is slowing consuming the person. It covers his back, and seems to be in the middle of spreading down towards the legs, arms and head. My head hurts. Opening my eyes, I find myself lying down on the bathroom floor. I hoist myself up using the toilet seat. Looking in the mirror, I see the person that was in my vision. Remembering the darkness consuming me, I pick up the original page from the ground and look at it once again. The black crayon that used to cover the page is now faded and almost gone. I realize what I must do, and I run out of my apartment with the fading page in my pocket. I buy 5 boxes of crayons. After opening them and pocketing the black crayons, I throw the rest into the trash can outside of the store. I go to a McDonald's and order a drink. With my drink, I sit in a booth and start filling in the original page with black. As I hurriedly color, I can feel it fighting to stay in me. With every stroke of the crayon, I feel the weight slowly lift. The closer I get to filling the page, the harder it becomes to color. Beads of sweat form on my face as I struggle to finish. The page is black again. I feel relieved. Like I just took off a backpack filled with rocks. I feel as though I can fly away. Looking up, I notice an old lady watching me. Using her walker to hold herself up, she stands there next to my booth, looking at the page. I look down at the page, and without thinking, pick it up and hand it to her. She takes it without question. She holds it in her hand and stares at it for a moment. Then putting it in her purse, she looks up at me. I watch her as I stand up to leave. I look once more at the page, then to the lady. She has a look of confusion on her face. I turn and walk out of McDonald's. Leaving the old lady holding the page. I look back at her once more through the window to see her folding it up and putting it carefully in her purse.
The End.
