“The problem with wanting,” he whispered, his mouth trailing along my jaw until it hovered over my lips,”is that it makes us weak.” –The Darkling, Shadow and Bone
As a child, my parents would tuck me into bed at night and say my prayers with me before leaving my room. Once the lights went off, my room was pitch darkness, because my room was in the basement. I’d find myself staring at my chair. The longer I looked I could see something. Something was in the room with me. My heart would start pounding. Faster. And faster. Until… I covered my head with my blankets. That never helped. Usually, I’d jump up and switch my light on in a moment of panic to find it was just my chair with my robe hanging from it. Every once in a while I still have small little moments like this.
What if darkness was a place?