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.