Dark

The Ramsey’s hosted dinner that month. We lived in Mesa, Arizona at the time, and the Ramsey’s were our family friends that lived five houses down. Abby, the youngest daughter, was two months younger than me, and my best friend. At 6:50 pm on a September night, the sky kissed the earth with a dramatic fade of purple. It drew me in with a light lavender, gradually transitioning to a hazy violet, eventually cancelling out the sky in a deep eggplant, a simple signal of the oncoming darkness of the night sky. 

We left my house, Abby and I rode on our two-wheeled, big-girl-bikes, and my mom pushed my sister in a stroller. After we had passed two of the five houses we needed to pass, my mom frantically slapped the outsides of each of her pockets with frustration. She sighed and asked Abby and I if we’d go get her phone, which she claimed was sitting on the cushion of our couch. We agreed and raced our bikes back to the house, she made it in first and I ran in after, protectively closing the door behind me. In the seven or eight minutes that had passed, the sun completely vanished. Her phone was nowhere in sight. The beautiful purple sky which once felt inviting and warm, now left me to fend for myself in the rich, black, darkness of the night. I gazed at the single street light in my neighborhood through my living room window, the one exactly halfway between Abby’s house and mine. It flickered, drawing me outside. 

As Abby looked for the phone, I tiptoed outside, careful not to make myself aware to the surrounding blackness. We had been looking for almost ten minutes, but a part of me still hoped my mom was waiting outside for us. I was five and a half, and I’d never admit it, but the dark terrified me. I slowly walked the stone path to the end of my yard, clinging to the tree, then the cars, then the mailbox, until I ran out of options. I took a step off my driveway and peered down the street for my mom. My heart dropped to my stomach. She wasn’t there. I felt fear run through my body, starting at my feet, paralyzing my ability to move. My eyes were locked on the Ramsey’s house, waiting for someone to march out and rescue me. No one came. The fear then crawled upward to my knees and caused them to wobble. I felt as if I might fall over any minute. Then without warning, the fear jerked into my stomach, pushing me back. I felt a roller-coaster-kind-of queasy. I usually loved roller coasters, but this was a roller coaster I wasn’t tall enough to ride. I sniffled, the fear sent a rush of chills through my whole body, making me aware of the cold tears dripping down my face, the fear had made its way into my head. I imagined the millions of horrors that could come over me as I stood alone, in the cold, quiet, dark night. Paralyzed. Every object around me was out to get me, ready to attack, like a hawk ready to swoop down and retrieve the small rodent. Just as everything was about to pounce, I awoke from my trance with an ear piercing bang. The noise of Abby slamming my front door.  I could suddenly move again, and I ran to the door with the tears streaming down my face. I turned the knob, but it wouldn’t open. I felt the darkness advance toward me every time I hit the door with my fist, begging to get in. I wasn’t standing alone in a large dark place anymore, I could feel the being of the darkness there with me, whispering into my ear with the wind. I was claustrophobic in the thick darkness as it enclosed me in my personal coffin. The darkness poured into me, I needed it out. I screamed. 

Abby yelled through the door that if I wasn’t going to help, I should leave. At that moment I didn’t even feel myself in my own body. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I had to try. In my head I had curled into a ball and given up, but my body was moving frantically to my bike. I rode as fast as I could. I rode past the huge willow acacia in front of my house, but at the time it was a monster, ready to eat me alive. I rode past the row of cacti along the fence, I closed my eyes as each one reached out its hand of harmful needles. I rode past the statue of the life sized boxer on my neighbor’s porch, it growled, then sprung up and chased after me. I rode past the flickering street light, the light bulb burst, it was completely dark as glass fell to the floor. I rode and rode and rode, the once short distance to the Ramsey’s house now felt like miles. My legs started moving faster than the bike. I looked ahead and the street stretched right before my eyes, never ending, I closed my eyes tightly to remove the horrible image, and rode with my eyes closed. Next thing I knew I was in the rocks, crashed into the Ramsey’s front yard. I got to my feet and stumbled to the front door, thirsting to get out of the darkness. Without looking back, I made my way inside, escaping the darkness. For one moment, I felt peace, I stood with my back pushed against the cold metal door and my eyes closed. My lungs were hyperventilating, but my brain was finally taking deep breaths, I felt safe. A combination of tears, snot and curls covered my face. In my head I was calm again, but on the outside I was still screaming. Only moments before, my family and friends were joyfully preparing our meal, however now all eyes were on the little girl screaming just inside the door. 

My mom ran to my side and immediately picked me up, desperately  shaking me, trying to get me to explain what was going on as I screamed in her ear. Jenna, Abby’s mom, quickly realized that I was crying too hard to speak, and more importantly that her daughter was not with me. Everyone quickly ran outside, hoping Abby was safe. In my mother’s arms, everything was back to normal, the tree was once again the tree I had known for years, the cacti all stood motionless, the statue of the dog was stiff and plastic, and the light still flickered, there wasn’t a single shard of glass. Abby strolled in on her bike, victoriously holding the gray RAZR flip phone high in the air. She left the bike in the rocks and her mother ran over, picking her up and repeatedly kissing her cheek. Through my hyperventilating I watched Abby, her face transitioned from confusion to guilt as she saw me crying in the arms of my mother. They brought us back into the house and sat me on the couch, both sets of parents, my three year old brother, Abby, Nick, and their eleven year old sister all surrounded me, waiting for me to speak. I couldn’t, not only because I was still dramatically crying, but because what could I say? I’m crying because I’m afraid of the dark? No, not that. My fearless bestfriend and the first crush I ever had stood directly in front of me, attempting to debrief me. I couldn’t let them know. After two minutes of trying to get words out between each quick breath, Jenna decided to guess what happened in those 10 minutes I spent left alone in the dark. 

“Did you fall off your bike?” No. “Did you get lost?” Of course I didn’t, we live five houses away. “Were you scared?” Definitely not. “Did someone try to talk to you?” I thought about it for just a second. Yes. My mother’s eyes widened. It was perfect, five is the age when you start learning not to talk to strangers or accept candy from men in tinted vans. With this cover up, I had a valid reason to be crying. I heard the simple word come out of my mouth, “Yes.” Without a second thought, Jenna called the police. The rest of the story didn’t come from my own mouth. Both Jenna and my own mother spoon fed words into my mouth, and I swallowed them whole. “Was it a man?” Yes. “Was it the one in the white tank top outside of our house?” Yes. “The one with the purple mini van?” Yes. “Did he offer you something?” Candy. “Were you scared?” Very. “Did you take the candy?” No. “What did you say to him?” I said no. “What did you do next?” Run away. And cry. A lot. 

When the police arrived, I had a story built solely from the ideas given to me by the helpful mothers. The two policemen strut in the door, one was a shorter, heavyset man, with a cluster of hair on his upper lip, each hair rebelled against the other. The second man was very tall, and lanky, he squatted a very long way down to be at eye level with me. His eyes were a tough brown color, I looked into them for only a second before looking at the ground as he asked if I was Katelyn. In case the puffiness of my cheeks and the crusty mix of tears and snot wasn’t revealing enough, I nodded my head slowly, never looking up from the ground. The two policemen then towed my mother and I into the Ramsey’s office. I was never allowed to play in there, I smirked with rebellion as I sat in the most comfortable chair in the room. The policemen asked me questions, and my mother answered them. They asked me to tell them of the terrible man who offered me candy, and my mother described, from her memory, the innocent man who had been harmlessly hanging around our neighborhood twenty minutes before. I had no recollection of the man she had described, but I nodded my head when they asked if that was also how I remembered him. They wrote down the description of the man and told me I did the right thing by running away. They then gave me a stuffed monkey as a reward for being so brave. I gladly took it from their hands and smiled while I suffocated the toy into my chest. My smile grew wider as Nick hugged me to comfort me after experiencing such a horrific scene. One by one all the adults told me they were proud of me. I was so brave. For days and weeks afterwards I was congratulated for being so strong. I told the story at school, church, and to everyone and anyone who would listen to me. Everyone I told was in awe. I was the topic of most conversations around my neighborhood for weeks. I wouldn’t tell anyone the truth, only I could know what really happened that night while I was left alone.  It wasn’t until six years thereafter that I let the guilt get to me. While sitting in the Provo, Smith’s, parking lot, I told my mother that there was no predator after me that night, only a little girl afraid of the dark.