A Fear of the Dark

Why are we afraid of the dark? Is it the inky blackness? The swirling shadows closing in on us? The way the light is squeezed out of every inch of our sight? Or is it the unknown that really scares us? Is it the feeling of not know what is behind you and what is to come? The feeling of being left in the dark.

I have seen a lot of darkness in my life. Dark people, dark times, dark deeds. I should know that there is no black and white - there are only a million shades of grey in between. I should know that everyone has a shadow, no matter how faint. I should know there is always something lurking in the shadows.

The eclipse began at 12:03pm, but the darkness had been closing in long before that.

I wake up early that morning, at the brink of dawn, and go for a run just as the sun is breaking over the horizon, it's golden light filtering through the trees. It's a nice run - I feel strong and powerful, and a tad bit better than everyone else still in bed, as I speed through the streets of sleepy suburbia.

Breakfast is as usual, the radio humming in the background. I make myself scrambled eggs on toast. I think of Dave. I never see Dave anymore. This is, of course, through no fault of his own, yet I can't help feeling resentful. I have a new life. A new job. New friends. And he isn't it a part of it. The Witness Protection Agency authorises him to visit once a month, even then only in disguise. Once a month he and the kids are smuggled in for the day in a food truck delivering groceries, and picked up again later with the mailman. Sometimes I wonder if Dave has found a new life too. One without me in it.

It's 11:32am when the grocery truck pulls into the driveway. My heart jumps in delight, but I force my face into a neutral expression. I open the garage and make my way outside to talk to the frog-faced delivery man - I haven't met him before. He opens the back of the truck and my family slip out from the crates and into the house. The angle of the truck completely hides them from my neighbours' prying eyes . I pretend not to see them as I collect my groceries. I thank the man. It's not until I have closed the door behind me, that Hannah and Ethan let out squeals of delight, hurling themselves at me with such force that I almost topple over. "Mama!"

I hold them close, fighting back tears of relief. They pull away, beaming.

"Look at you two!" I peer down at them, "You've grown so much!"

Dave laughs.

"It's all the broccoli I've been feeding them," 

I raise an eyebrow.

"I'd like to see you try,"

I go in for a hug, burying my face in his shoulder, breathing the scent of firtrees and rain that he must have picked up from a morning walk. He kisses my forehead, and everything feels right in the world. I feel safe. But I should know better.

Behind him stands a tall, imposing woman, with a drawn-out face and bags under her eyes, as though she hasn't slept properly in years. Probably because she hasn't.

"M-Mother?" I whisper, my voice barely audible in shock. 

A wave of dizziness washes over me and my vision blurs. Mother is yelling in the kitchen. Men in black standing to her right, talking low, cold voices. Hands clasp around my throat. Screams ringing out in the night. Blood everywhere. Sirens wailing.

My mother is an unforgiving woman. Tough as nails. A heart of stone. Honestly, I never imagined she would want to see me again after what happened. I am a disappointment after all. A liability. I bet she wishes it had been me who died instead.

I recoil, my heart pounding. "W-w-what are you doing here? Dave, what is she doing here?"

Dave shifts uncomfortably.

"She wanted to see you, hon,"

It's 11:48am when we all take a seat around the coffee table. The kids have found my set of paints and are contentedly making a mess of my art supplies on the other side of the room. I don't stop them, my attention elsewhere.

Dave is by my side on the sofa, his arm around me. Something which I am eternally grateful for as I sit across the table from my mother. Her cold, hard gaze is unwavering. I hate the way she looks at me. As if this is all my fault. As if it was me who killed Stella.

“So, Grace,” her voice is strangely light, and friendly, a stark contrast to sour expression. “What have you been up to then?”

“Oh… um, you know…” I blabber, my mind scattered, “The usual. Job’s going well.”

“I’m glad,” she says, her lips pursed.

“How about you mother?”

“Well other than Stella’s funeral, the reading of her will, and the constant onslaught of police at my door, it’s been fine.”

My heart plummet even further. I don’t know why I expected anything different. Dave gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry Mother.”

“Well, it’s done now, isn’t it?”

I look away. Images flash before my eyes and voices fill my ears. Small bags of white powder hidden under the floorboards. Mother yelling, a rare hint of fear in her cold grey eyes. Stella’s pale face, tears streaming down her cheeks. The man in black towering over me, his face obscured by shadows, his hands around my throat. Stella’s screams. Blood everywhere. Sirens wailing. Darkness closing in.

It’s 12:00pm when Dave disappears to the kitchen to make tea.

My mother and I sit in silence.

At 12:02 when the doorbell rings.

Mother goes to answer it.

I hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen. The murmur of voices at the door.

“Who is it?” I call. No response.

At 12:03, Mother steps into the room, the frog-faced delivery man by her side.

I stare at them in confusion. I open my mouth, but Mother cuts me off.

“Don’t move, Grace.”

Her voice is steely and cold, but grey eyes glimmer with a hint of sadness.

“Mother, what is going on?” I ask, my voice wavering.

Dave is in the room now, taking Ethan and Hannah’s hands gently in his and leading them out of the room.

“Dave!” I cry, “What the hell is going on?”

He doesn’t turn back.

At 12:04, the solar eclipse begins.

The delivery man advances towards me, and I catch a glint of polished silver. I know this man. The way he moves, every movement controlled and with purpose. The shadows in his face. The darkness in his gleaming black eyes. I twist out of the way and dart across the room and into the kitchen, where Dave is hurriedly ushering the kids out the back door and into the garage.

He turns briefly at the sound of my footsteps, and his eyes meet mine.

“I’m sorry Grace,” he says, “I have to keep the kids safe,”

I can see it in his eyes. He is a part of this. He’s known about this all along. I feel a stab of betrayal shoot through my chest.

He turns away, closing the door behind him.

“Hannah!” I cry “Ethan!”

I lunge for the door, but a strong, cold hand grabs my arm, spinning me around to face its owner.

My Mother’s grey eyes meet mine. The light quickly is fading, the sun half gone already.

“LET GO OF ME!” I cry, trying in vain to wriggle out of her iron grip. She is unmoved, her expression blank. 

“I’m sorry Grace,”

Any emotion that I thought I saw in her eyes is gone, swallowed up in the darkness.

“We didn’t have a choice. They threatened to kill me. They were going to hurt your kids.”

“Since when did you give a shit about my kids?!”

Mother looks away.

“Dave cares about them more than anything in the world.”

More than me. Dave chose them over me. And my mother chose her life over mine. They both knew this was going to happen, and left me all alone, completely in the dark. The betrayal sinks slowly down to the pit of my stomach. For a moment, I feel numb. Then I am overcome by anger. Cold fury surges through me, coursing through my veins. Darkness clouds my mind.

Blindly, I swing a fist in my mother’s direction. It makes contact, sinking into her flesh with a satisfying crunch. She cries out in pain. I can barely see, but I think I have broken her nose. I yank my arm out of her grasp, and feel for the door, but I am not quick enough. By the time I glimpse the flash of silver to my left, I am too late. I try to twist out of the way, but the blade slashes into my side. I cry out, white hot pain searing through me. My hand finds the doorhandle. There is a whoosh of air to my right, just centimetres from my face. He missed, blinded by the darkness.

Before he can take another swing, I open the door and stumble around the side of the house. As I come out into the open, I break out into a run. I tear out onto the lawn. The darkness is everywhere now. Inky black. Not a prick of light. I feel the end of lawn and turn right along the road, running blindly.

Blood gushes from my side, but the wound is shallow, and I remain upright. My ears are ringing, and I can’t see a thing in dark of day, but I keep running. Red hot tears run down my cheeks, but my heart is cold as ice and as dark as the sky above me.

I should’ve known better. I should’ve seen the shadows in their eyes. I should never have let my guard down. There is a reason we are afraid of the dark.

I flee into the darkness, letting the shadows swallow me whole.