DITD- Chapter 3
Drawn in the Dark
That evening, I crossed my legs in bed and stared at the paper in my lap. My favorite book sat underneath, giving me something hard to write on.
The pencil—
Dang it! Where’s the pencil?
I flung my covers aside, searching frantically. It was here a second ago. I hurled the paper and book off the bed and dropped to my knees.
Not there.
Underneath was just clothes and books I’d shoved away. The gaming chair sat empty in the corner. The toy box I couldn’t let go of sat closed.
My walls were bare, except for the calendar where I crossed off the days until Dad came home.
I plopped down on the bed with a sigh—
“Yikes!”
I shot back up. A sharp poke in my thigh. There was the pencil.
With everything together, I sat again, ready to drag the nightmares out of my head. Normally, I ignored them, boxing them up and shoving them aside. But even locked away, I could still feel them pressing, waiting.
Tonight was different. They were quiet. Too quiet. Like they knew I was about to let them out.
My heartbeat thundered like hooves on a racetrack. My head swam. My imagined hands hovered over the cardboard box in my mind. The flaps quivered under my touch.
Am I really ready for this? What if facing these nightmares makes everything worse, instead of better?
If they’re locked away, they can’t hurt me or anyone else. Isn’t it safer to just leave them there?
Yet…
I steadied my trembling hands.
One.
I can still change my mind, can’t I? I haven’t gone too far yet.
Two.
Maybe I should just bury the box under something heavy—my Lego build, maybe—so nothing can get out.
Three.
All at once, like a jack-in-the-box, the creatures burst out.
The empty space around me was filled with the things that haunted my dreams. They were everywhere. Glinting. Looming. Their eyes fixed on me, certain of their mission.
The ground gave way. I stumbled into the wall. My heart raced. The creatures just stared. They knew nightmares had done enough.
“No! Stop!”
I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my face. I braced for claws to rip, teeth to sink in, tongues to taste my fear. I braced for slimy hands, for rough fur, for scaly skin to pin me down.
Nothing came.
Had they gone?
I peeked between my fingers—then snapped them shut again.
They were still there. Still hovering. Still awful.
How long until they struck?
I peeked again. They hadn’t moved.
Slowly, I lowered my hands. The monsters stood frozen. Their eyes darted, confused, as if they were realizing they were trapped.
How is this possible?
I didn’t think long. I had my own mission.
My pencil lay nearby. I grabbed it, hand shaking.
Why am I doing this, really? Do I want to be free of these nightmares, or am I just hoping they’ll disappear if I ignore them?
It’s scary enough having them loose in my head. There, at least, they’re contained—even if they still bother me.
But once I draw them, don’t they become real? Don’t I give them a place in my world?
If I keep them locked away, I never have to truly see them. If I put them here, on paper... I’m making them real, and I’ll have to face them. Am I ready for that responsibility?
The pencil touched down. A single dark streak stained the page.
Do I?
Or do I not?