Phobia - Into the Dark

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Cassie had always hated the dark.

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Not just disliked it, but hated it in that bone-deep, heart-pounding, cold-sweat way that made her feel like she was six years old again.

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She remembered lying in her childhood bed, eyes wide, sure there was something in the corner. Something breathing. Waiting.

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Even now, at twenty-seven, she slept with a small lamp on.

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She told people she liked to read at night. She didn’t tell them the truth: that the dark felt alive when the light went out.

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That it watched her.

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Tonight, the storm knocked the power out.

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Cassie stood in her living room, watching the last glow from the streetlights vanish as the blackout rolled over her neighborhood.

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Her apartment was swallowed whole.

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It was like drowning in ink.

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Her breath hitched.

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“No,” she whispered.

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She fumbled for her phone flashlight. The weak beam cut a narrow cone through the dark, but the batteries were dying.

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She felt her heart beating in her throat.

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All the old fears surged up.

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Something in the room. In the hall. Behind her.

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She forced herself to turn in a slow circle, shining the dying light.

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Nothing.

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But it felt like something.

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Cassie swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

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She thought about calling someone. But who? What would she say? “Hey, I’m afraid of the dark like a kid...please help me”?

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Thunder cracked overhead.

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The flashlight flickered.

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Then died.

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Cassie whimpered.

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She stood there in perfect blackness, her breath shaking.

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It felt like the walls were closer now. Like the dark itself had weight.

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She wanted to curl up and cry.

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But she didn’t.

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She sat down slowly on the floor, hugging her knees.

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She closed her eyes.

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What difference did it make, open or closed?

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She told herself over and over:

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It’s just the absence of light. There’s nothing here. Nothing.

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Her pulse was a drum.

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She felt sweat on her neck.

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She rocked slowly, grounding herself with the feel of the floor under her.

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She listed what she could feel:

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The rug under her fingers.

The chill in the air.

Her own breathing.

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She forced herself to inhale. Exhale.

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Slow.

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Steady.

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The dark didn’t answer.

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It didn’t swallow her whole.

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She stayed there for what felt like hours.

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Eventually, her panic faded into exhausted tears.

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She wiped them away roughly.

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I did it, she thought. I’m still here.

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When the power finally snapped back, the lamp came on in a warm halo.

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Cassie blinked at it.

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She didn’t rush to stand.

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She let the light soak in slowly, like forgiveness.

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She wasn’t “over” it.

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But tonight, the darkness hadn’t won.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE

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If you’re afraid of the dark, or anything else that feels bigger than you, know that you’re not alone. You don’t have to beat it all at once. Just try tonight. That’s enough. 💛

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