Darkness Isn't Real

Chapter 1

Jackson Hewitt wanted to be normal. He wanted it more than anything. There was only one problem: Jackson was blind. When he was just several months old, he had been in a horrific accident resulting in his head being cut open and his skull fracturing in several places. The doctors had worked tirelessly for months, attempting to restore everything back to how it was before the injury. Eventually they confirmed him blind, and ever since he had been treated differently than everyone else.

Despite his ailment, however, Jackson was nearly fully capable to walk around without assistance. He had memorized the layout of his house and used a stick to tap ahead of him when he entered an unfamiliar location. He'd learned how to map things out with his hands, and an increase in hand-no-eye coordination allowed him to do more things by his lonesome, such as eat a bowl of cereal or use the bathroom. Lucky for Jackson though, the incident had occurred before he was too far along with his life, so he didn't really need to readjust to the situation; he simply had to adjust in the first place.

"Jackson!" His mother called from the other room.

Their old house had been burned down during the storm, so they had to relocate to a new one. They'd made sure that it was a single-story to help out Jackson, and they wanted it to be in a neighborhood that was fairly level. Jackson's mom had been affected by the blindness the most, always feeling partially responsible for her son's ailment.

"If I could've just held onto him," she would whisper to herself late at night, unable to sleep. Her husband, Jackson's father, had passed away shortly before Jackson was born. He had been drinking at a bar with his friends and, refusing to take a taxi home, he tragically crashed into a lake and drowned.

"Jackson, it's time to go to sleep!"

"Ok Mom!"

Jackson was already in his room, so all he did was hop into his bed and pull the covers over himself. His teeth were brushed, his light was off (though it was never on to begin with), and his pajamas were on.

"I wonder what will happen in tonight's dream," he whispered to himself, rolling over to get more comfortable.

Every night, Jackson would dream of another life where he wasn't blind. He could see, and it was beautiful. Lately, however, the dreams had been getting weirder - more contorted. But Jackson loved them nonetheless because he could see the vibrant range of colors and live life normally. That was what got him through most days: the fact that at night, there was another dream waiting for him.

——

Jackson bolted straight up, his heart slamming against his chest. He took a look around, absorbing the different tones of white and green and blue around his room. He was dreaming. His alarm was softly beeping beside him, and he stood up from his bed to get dressed. The window was slightly cracked, a light breeze drifting through and rustling the papers assorted on his desk.

"Good morning sweetie!" his mom exclaimed, strolling into the room with her white pajamas on. "We have to get to school now! You don't want to be late for your math test, do you?"

In his dreams, Jackson went to a normal school and hung out with normal people. Everyone liked him; it was as if all his wishes had been packed into one life. Sadly, however, the dreams didn't last for eternity. They would inevitably end, and Jackson would be trapped back in his world of darkness, praying for the next time he could lay down and go to sleep.

"Wait!" Mom exclaimed as Jackson walked toward the door with his black backpack slung over his shoulder. "You've got to take your pills!"

-

The long yellow bus creaked up to the school, applying its breaks to create a long squeal that rang for several excruciating seconds. The door swung open, and all of the students who had been piled in the seats began to push their way out of the confines of the vehicle and out onto the sidewalk. Jackson always got off last; he didn't like the commotion caused by dozens of warm bodies shoving their way out of a tiny escape.

Once the last person scurried from the bus, Jackson stood up from his front seat and stepped into the aisle, brushing past the driver, a soft faced middle-aged man, on his way out.

"Bye kid!" the man called, nodding to Jackson.

"Bye!" Jackson replied, pounding down the metal stairs and making his way along the concrete path to the double doors that opened into the school.

On his way to the entry, Jackson would always stop to admire the scene around him. The colors always astounded him: the pearly whites, the popping red and pink flowers, the prominent yet diverse greens. He would take a mental picture of it, saving it for later when he can not see. While traveling to school after he awakes, he will pretend that this image is what's really there, helping him to cope with the feelings of loneliness and disconnection that blindness brings.

"Good morning Jackson," Principal Sawyer addressed, holding open the door.

"Same to you," Jackson replied, walking into the air conditioned hallway. "Beautiful day, is it not?"

"Oh, it's marvelous," Mr. Sawyer said. He took a look around. "Middle of spring; everything's beginning to bloom. It really is a dazzling spectacle."

By then, Jackson was already out of earshot. He had turned the corner and was walking down the decorated hall to his homeroom class. Students' artwork hung up and down the hall, and posters and fliers were stapled to a bulletin board outside of the front office. After about a minute of walking, Jackson turned into the homeroom class: Mrs. Peterson.

"Ok, Jackson, you're here," she stated as the boy made his way to his desk.

All of the other students were already present, so Mrs. Peterson placed her role sheet down and stood up to teach.

"So everyone, today we have our dreaded math test!"

Jackson sighed, thinking, "Why does there have to be a test in my dream. This is MY dream!"

"I'm going to pass out your papers, and you can get started as soon as you've gotten yours."

Mrs. Peterson began walking down the first row of seats, handing each student their copy of the test. A strong gust of air surged through an open window behind her, grabbing her papers and sending them fluttering around the room.

"Oh no!" she cried, swiveling around and grabbing the window handle, pulling it shut with one swift motion.

"Guess we don't need that open, ha! Sorry guys, we should just..."

Jackson had stopped listening to Mrs. Peterson. He was staring, eyes glued, to what was outside of the window. At first, he had thought it to be a face.

"That's weird," he thought. "Why is there someone watching me like this? I mean, my dreams have been getting weirder, but..."

Then the face began to contort and change color, morphing into something completely different. It began to grow long, the flesh a collage of putrid greens, with long horns piercing through the top of its head.

It looked dead at Jackson, its eyes a dark red. Red like blood.

Then everything faded to black.