Short Story- Facing Her Fear

I was always afraid of the darkness. The pitch black night. It was always my worst fear to be walking around, lonely and afraid, lost. The darkness was my enemy. The blackness of the night screamed out trouble and danger. It's where the killers and watchers lurked. It's where kidnappings and strange happenings went on. You never know what or who is walking around in the late of night, stalking your every move and action. Sensing your fear, gaining pleasure from it radiating off of you in waves.

People always called me silly for being scared of the dark. They'd say, "what is there to be afraid of? It's only the night, opposite of day." They would say it so matter-of-factly. Those ignorant fools. I would always scoff and not re-counter, me responding would only lead to conflict and non-ending arguments. I have nothing to prove to those baboons. When I was little, my brother had locked me out of the house at night. I could see him laughing at my crying self as I stood outside the medium-sized glass window, gazing longingly into the light of the comforting interior of the house. I could hear things crinkle and shake behind me. I felt as if there were things all around me. For the first time, I had felt alone and scared. It was terrifying. Thankfully though, mama had let me back in, daddy had punished brother. That was my first dreadful run-in with the night. It was certainly not my last either.

Now, here I was, facing my nightmare out of pure fear. A tragic and horrendous murder had just occurred before. Daddy had finally lost it. He finally broke. I watched it happen, every single detail. The way he hit mother. The way she told me to run, glancing at me helplessly. The way I stood, paralyzed with shock. I stayed. I witnessed the smacking, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him beating her, slowly taking the life out of her. I couldn't do anything to help. He punched, she fell. He hit her with objects, she stopped fighting. she lay there, un-moving as the blows continued. Until finally, he was done. She was dead. I didn't know what to do. He then saw me, his bloodshot eyes shown with a crazed and insane look. He wouldn't hesitate to end me. Father wasn't himself. Father was dead.

I could either face the deadly man, or run out into the night. I chose the latter.

I had run. He hadn't followed. After sprinting blindly like my life depended on it, I finally stopped, caught my breath, then started walking along an abandoned road. It was cold and isolated out here. Barren. I was only in my pajama pants and t-shirt; I wasn't prepared for this to have happened. Every step I took was filled with cautiousness and hesitance. I wish I could take away my sense of hearing, all the noises merely spooked me more. The blowing of the leaves, the rattling and clacking of the twigs, the whistling of the wind. I could hear chatters and hisses. So many explanations were running through my head. Could it be simply an animal? Was it perhaps a creature? A deadly monster? I hastily looked around, not stopping my actions once. I felt insane. I kept seeing shadows, as if there were dark beings walking around in the night. Laughing at me. Calculating and observing my scared movements. I watched for lurkers, I kept alert for danger. I didn't like this. I didn't like lonely and quiet places. It was too quiet. I could hear everything. I could hear if someone was walking behind me, I could hear the scary and odd noises. It was merely too much. Too quiet yet too loud.

Before my older brother had left, he would taunt and scare me with myths and deadly stories. He would tell of ghost-like people wandering around at night, he would tell me of tales and legends. All those stories were coming back now. I could remember every single one of them. It made my fear heighten dramatically. The only thing I could imagine in the moment was dead, pale-like figures waiting to end me. The situation merely seemed spookier.

My sandals scraped the cement ground beneath me as I sloppily walked. I tried to focus on that sound. On my breathing. I tried to focus my senses on anything other than the shadows and strange noises. I felt so childish. I was nearly out of high school, yet I was deeply afraid of little noises and shadows in the night. I was afraid of walking around in all my loneliness in the dark.

Lost. I didn't know where I was. I was in an unfamiliar part of the city I lived in. An unknown road. It wasn't helping either that it was night. I could barely see a thing. I flinched as I heard a hoot of an owl. Walking quicker, I tried to not peer around me at the surroundings. I could see something that would terrify and spook me.

I had a habit of freezing and losing my sense of logic when I saw something terrifying or freaky. A simple glance at a scary thing would chill me, it would terrify me so much that I wouldn’t be able to run or think. Speechless and clueless.

I rubbed my non-layered skin as goosebumps began to form and appear from the cold and shivers. My long blonde hair softly whipped against my somewhat pale-like face from the nightly breeze. I glanced up at the sky, momentarily gaining comfort and peace from the shining moon and the sparkling stars. Looking up at the sky at night always calmed me. It reminded me I wasn't alone, not truly. Perhaps there was someone, or something, out there with my same fear, in a similar situation.

I could hear the leaves rattling and making 'swoosh' sounds. Crinkling together. I tried to calm myself. They were just leaves. I tried to tell myself. The noises were simply the acts of nature. Harmless. Yet, I still found myself shaking out of fear. I could feel my heartbeat speed up when I heard a noise. My breathing would become quicker; I would walk faster. My hands would sweat. It still scared me out of my wits. I couldn't help or control the fear. My fear controlled me. It drove me.

Fear is something that drives an alone and lost person to insanity. Every little noise and observance sets them on edge. When fear enters their system, they can't think logically. Everything scares them, whether it was actually scary/harmful or not. Fear blinds people. It seeps into the skin and body, then locks itself within the being. Pushing them. The thoughts and assumptions come from the fear, the fear of what's out there, the fear of the thing or being that the person is afraid of, the fear of something happening. Fear is human's worst enemy. It creates chaos. A mental and emotional war.

People don't know true and actual fear, until they experience it. The rapid beating on the chest. The not-knowing of if you're going to live. The sweating. The shaking. The thoughts and mental torment. A lost and lonely feeling. It's consuming and exhilarating, in a bad and corrupt way. The simple feeling of not knowing what's going to happen.

Fear enjoys causing panic. It feeds off of the effect it creates on a human. On me. Once fear has you in its grip, it takes much determination and mental courage to struggle and wiggle out of it.

I didn't know how much time has passed. Maybe it's only been a couple minutes. Maybe it's been hours. I had no idea. The moon was still out. The darkness was still here. It was still night or early morning. Not close to dawn though. My thoughts went back to the previous happening. All the blood. The look on father's face. The scared and pained expression of mother. I wonder if she had felt true fear in that moment. I wonder if she had expected that to happen. If she knew he would completely lose it. I don't know why she hadn't sent him to a mental hospital. I felt as if he had stopped taking his pills and medication, but I wasn't sure. This night proved it right. He had given up on himself. He let his mental illness and disorder take control. It consumed and changed him. He wasn't the caring and loving father I knew. He's someone different. A cruel person. A mentally challenged crazed victim of the mind. He was too far gone now.

Tears pricked my eyes. I wiped them away. It just now settled and registered into me that I had barely had no one, nothing.  Where would I go, what would I do? My brother was dead, my mother was dead, my father was distant, disoriented and insane. I had no family members near here either. I was at a loss suddenly. It all happened too soon, I had no time to prepare. All my things were at home. My money, my license, keys, phone valuable and sentimental things etc. I didn’t have time to gather and pack things up when I ran. I needed to go back there, but I was too afraid. What if he was still there? Now I regret not calling 911. I should have done something; I should have helped. That regret will most likely follow me for eternity. It would eat me up from the inside.

If I had my own car, I could have taken that to the police station or something. But I didn't.

My thoughts drift and go in different directions. From what if's to regrets, to past memories and what to do's. Then, to what my future will become of, how will I pay for things, will I go to college, different unanswered questions and ponderings. I felt a headache coming on from all the thinking and distress. I knew I would break down eventually. All the things would pile up, my mother's death will become too much to handle, I wouldn't be able to deal with the new life and responsibilities. I would lose it. I didn't want to lose control. I didn't want to let my emotions get out of hand. I needed to keep myself together. I couldn't follow in my father's footsteps.

My eyes started to feel tired. My feet ached from walking for so long. Where was I? I was lost and confused. Suddenly feeling worn out, I decided to rest. I couldn't keep going. I continued walking along through the unsettling and creepy night. Eventually after many minutes, I could make out something through peering into the darkness. I realized that I was near the downtown area, from the shapes and silhouettes in the darkness.

Rest. Rest. Sleep. Peace. I needed it desperately. After what I went through tonight, I needed to sleep away my thoughts and what I saw. After wandering around in the night, I finally came upon an empty park. Settling down onto the grassy area, I lay down. I didn't care if I would be muddy or bitten by bugs in the morning. I simply didn't care for anything right now. I was too tired and done to care or feel concern for myself. I knew that when morning came I'd care. But right now, there was nothing but worn-out numbness. In the morning, I knew where I'd go. I had started to plan it out in the midst of my distressed thoughts. I would go to his house. Even after what we went through together, he was still the only person I could really trust.

But, I didn't know what I'd do after that. Closing my eyes and huddling into myself, I fell into a restless and uncomfortable slumber, suddenly not caring that I was falling asleep in the lonely night surrounded by darkness. I could care less about my fear right now. Nothing mattered in the moment, only sleep. Ignoring the taunting noises around me, I slept and found a temporary peace. The night's events and fear faded away with the sweet release of dreams and sleep.