In the Dark

Crickets and trolleys. The latter rumble loudly punctuates the incessantly droning insects. The humidity wraps me in its steamy embrace, yet I still drape my damp sheet across my middle, allowing only my arms and legs to poke free. The box fan in my window blows mildly cooler night air into my room, but the breeze merely glances across my bare knees without relieving the rest of my body. I tremble, clutching my sheet tightly as my armor against the dark.

Ah, the darkness... my undefeatable foe. It creeps into every corner and sends leering shadows towards my bed. In the blackness, even light seems ominous. That flicker - is it a burglar's flashlight playing off the wall or simply headlights from a passing car? Or perhaps it is the dance of flames, a fire devouring my home around me. "God protect me!" I plead as I cower in my bed.

Even now, as an adult, darkness equals fear to me. Yet, at times, greater darkness has engulfed me than on those sticky summer nights of my childhood, and sometimes, my protection seems as flimsy as a humid sheet held firmly to my chest. Even now, my best defense remains a whispered, "Help me, God."