I’m afraid of the dark. I know it’s irrational and since I’m older I shouldn’t be afraid of something silly like that. But I still am. I’m afraid of things that aren’t there. When it’s dark, everything is left to the imagination. My mind tells me that there’s someone standing at the foot of my bed watching me and about to grab my ankle. And I know no one’s there but my mind makes my eyes see it and I race for the light with my heart racing just as fast.
When it’s dark there’s so much space to put things in. There’s a creepy shadow in the corner, a noise from the closet and things are spinning. I see cobwebs everywhere, I hear every single noise. So I guess I’m not afraid of the dark, I’m afraid of what my mind will do with it.
