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The Light That Hides Us

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Acceptance

Acceptance

What’s revealed by the light gives you a sense of comfort before it’s taken away; but what lurks in the shadows is what you should really be afraid of. Bedroom closets that creak open, the man-like shadow in the corner and unknown monsters writhing under the bed. These irrational fears all have one universal thing in common: your sense of fear extinguishes when light touches them.

You think light reveals all there is to know about something. The ominous shadow disappears once your phone’s flashlight caresses it. The man standing in the corner of your bedroom by the door becomes just a coat when you shakily say, “Hey Alexa, turn on the light.” A pair of eyes under the bed becomes a refraction of moonlight that slipped through your curtain on the water bottle you discarded there a week ago. Darkness is such a tease.

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Light is like a filter. It has the incredible ability to block your eyes from reality. You may think this to be the contrary; however, you know you heard your closet creak. What else would have caused such ruckus? The stuffed animals you locked away in there years ago? Or how about the overflowing amount of shoes you’ve got stocked up in there, hm?

Light tells you what you want to believe to keep you at bay, to keep your sense of safety within your bedroom. Why is it that you think you’re safe in your bed? Leg off the side or not, that “water bottle” can still reach you. It can still see you when you smother your head under your blush pink duvet.

You grab your phone from your nightstand and yank it off its charger to turn on your flashlight. You slowly droop your head upside down toward your floor as you lift your comforter to reveal that those menacing eyes were just the same old singleuse plastic bottle. As you discard it for safe measure, you notice that same shadow in the corner of your room.

It’s the dull, opaque man standing by your door, awaiting your approach. He is darkness himself. He swallows your fears and puts your wits on edge. But you know he’s not really there, right? You know it’s some sort of coincidental illusion?

It’s up to you to decide your reality. Have you gone mad, or are you just accepting the truth of what loiters inside your bedroom? Only, it is just your bedroom? Or are we also in the kitchen? When you hesitantly turn off the light switch and sprint to your room, looking behind you to see if you are truly alone, or if someone is pursuing you? You always find your answer in the former, but you never let your guard down. What does this prove?

Grab your night light. Yes, the same butterfly night light that was in your childhood bedroom so long ago. The one you never wanted to get rid of because your mother bought it for you in your youth. Plug it in, keep it on.

Or, if you decide to chuck it after all this time, we’ll be waiting for you. In the corner, behind the closet door, under the bed. We’re always here, whether your light hides us or not.

I Am Not Crazy

Christopher Cole

Allow me to preface this: I am not well. I HATE my new house. I hate that the stairs creak, I hate that the fences are broken, I hate that the walls are thin, but most of all I hate our neighbors. They are so loud that there have even been times I have contemplated calling the police. Every day I return from work I hear blood-curdling screams. There have been times when I look in the windows and I see a quick shadow, but it disappears before I can make out what it is.

When I return from work they sometimes quiet down, but usually they don’t; and EVERY SINGLE NIGHT from exactly 3-4 a.m. the screams are louder. Sometimes it sounds like they are right outside my door, or my window, and my room is on the SECOND FLOOR.

Most of the time it feels like I am the only one who can even hear them. I ask my mom, but she calls me crazy; my siblings, what's even the point? But my dad - he is the only other person who claims he can hear the screams. I can't say if I believe him or not, though because he has been senile for a long time now.

I feel like I am going crazy, but I know I am not. It is just that no one believes me. I KNOW that I am not crazy, so I decided that I was going in that house and there was nothing anyone could do to stop me.

It was around 11:00 p.m. when I made this horrible choice. I didn't realize how much I would come to regret it.

When I snuck in, it felt as if it were 15 degrees cooler than outside. I looked around but saw no one, which was odd seeing as I had just heard the screaming before I had entered. I looked everywhere but not a single soul: no humans, no rats, not even a roach.

As I wandered around the house, I suddenly felt someone or something watching me. I whipped my head around so fast it almost gave me a headache; but again, NOTHING. I SWEAR I was losing my mind. But I needed to keep my cool.

I went upstairs and found a bed and I layed down, but as soon as my head hit the pillow and I looked up...THERE WAS SOMETHING LOOKING BACK DOWN AT ME.

I didn't know what to do. I froze up. My fight or flight didn't work. I was scared, confused but also somewhat relieved because I finally knew I wasn't crazy. I knew my mom was wrong, siblings and EVeRyON3 EVERYBODY THEY W3R3 WR0NG NOT ME I WAS NOT CRAZY. I'M NOT I'M NOT I'M NOT I'M NOT. Then I woke up. I was in the house still but on the couch now. I was relieved, but I still had a feeling that what I had just experienced was no normal dream. I believe whatever I had seen in my dream was what had caused that.

I AM NOT cRaZy.

Art: Daniel Hughes

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