《Chilled: A Collection of Icydice Stories》Afraid of the Dark: Part One

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When I woke up, I only recognized the growing sense of thirst from within my dehydrated body. I licked my parched lips and slipped out of the covers, my body suddenly hit by the cold air stitched into the seams of the oppressive darkness ahead. I quivered as I reluctantly embraced the chill temperature and made my way to the door, jumping with each step as small creaks were produced from the weight of my foot being placed upon the oak floorboards. Although the noise was faint, it sounded deafeningly loud in contrast to the dead silence surrounding my petite self.

All five of my fingers curled around the bronze colored door knob ahead, and they steadily turned it until a small click was heard. I then placed my tiny hand against the wooden door coated in a fine layer of white paint, and with a gentle push, the barrier between the safe haven of a child's bedroom and whatever lay beyond was removed.

I shivered as a new draft of icy air entered the room. A brand new wave of darkness seemed to rush through the doorway and engulf the area, its color resembling that of tar. Summoning all the courage I could, I placed both feet firmly on the beige carpet that embellished the ground. My eyes glared at the corridor before me. It appeared lengthier at night than during the day. I could imagine elongated arms melting from the walls on both sides, grasping at my clothing. I could envision dozens of spiders dropping from the ceiling, several landing on my hair, and others crawling on the surface of my body.

Shaking my head, I banished such thoughts and proceeded down the hallway. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I walked past the room where my parents soundly rested in their comfortable bed. There was no turning back, and even if I wanted to, my craving for a drink to sedate my ever growing dehydration only grew. I carried on still, finally reaching the end of the endless path, and found myself in a clearing. By then, my eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the dark, and I could make out a few pieces of furniture and a television set.

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I slowed my pace and gulped nervously. A sense of peril entrenched the room. I found that shadows would dance in the corner of my eyes, only to disappear once I turned my head in their direction. The darkness seemed even more foreboding than it had just seconds earlier. I desperately wished to run to my parents like I had so many times before. Still, I remembered how they had always told me there was nothing to be afraid of. They explained numerous times that my young imagination would always come up with ways to scare me, but I had to learn to be brave and overcome the fear I would often encounter at the hands of my own mind. Thus, my mind was set on proving to my mother and father that I wasn't afraid anymore, and so I carried on.

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