I lay here on this bed, eyes peering out into a thick of blackness with my pupils pointed up towards what would be a ceiling, if light gave way. Instead all I get is darkness.


The very thing I feared as a child- in more ways than one.

Darkness was the unknown, something I could never operate on.
I developed an allergy to it, my reaction being mental malfunction.

I feared the darkness in the days I truly believed my house was possessed. Footsteps up the stairs when no one was there. I was glued to the corner of my room reading books on possession at the age of seven- something I probably derived from my mom’s paranoid state of mind.

I feared darkness growing up in Chula Vista. My mom took in my neighbor’s son on multiple occasions, providing a safe-haven from the Mexicans who jumped him for dating a family-member.

I feared darkness after my mom reported my classmates to the principal. Telling the “colored girl” that she “bathed in dirty water” was one thing, but spitting on her was a whole other.

I feared darkness two years later in fifth grade, when my sister’s dad dropped off a lunch he bought me for school. I tried to pull the classroom door tight so that nobody else would see him, but they did. They asked. I denied.

My grandma provided validity to their disapproval as she read a letter addressed to my sister’s father that was dressed in layers of racial slurs.

I felt bad.

And then I remember having my world turned upside down in middle school because they called me “white girl.”

I was confused.

I feared darkness more recently, with the sudden realization that I was on the other end of all my wonderings.

Sitting up in bed listening to my ex bad-mouth her exes, my thoughts created a trail for my mind to wonder along.

“I wonder what she’ll say about me to her ‘next’…”

I brushed the thought off, thinking we’d never drift that far into the dark.

Yet here I am today, with the sudden realization that I am there in the dark, and to tell you the truth it ain’t that bad.

I look ahead into the impeding darkness before me, listening to my current paint a picture of her past and I can’t help but wonder again what she’ll say when…

She tells me that I already have it in my mind that it won’t work.

I think I’d just much rather carry my flashlight with me into the darkness.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s