The Dark

I had the nightmare again -
the same one,
though I'm sure there have been variations,
that I've had my whole life.
It's about the darkness
and my fear of the dark.
It's not easy for me to admit
that as a grown man
I'm afraid of the dark.

In the dream, I'm in a dark room.
My bedroom -
I sense a presence
in the darkest part of the room.
It's the darkness itself that I fear.
It's a darkness within the darkness,
indistinct in shape.
It seems to bring or spread darkness,
like some black hole.
I'm afraid that it will engulf me.
I'm afraid of becoming one with
the darkness.

That presence,
over the years,
I've called it many things,
Satan, the boogeyman,
The Angel of Death,
the grim reaper
or just The Shape.

In the dream,
I try to turn on a light
knowing that I'll be safe then
but the light doesn't work
and I'm frozen for a moment.
I try to find a flashlight
and I try to make it to
another room...
it's so dark
and none of the lights are working...
and I'm waiting,
terrified, with chills running
up me as I imagine
what it will feel like
when that presence
grabs me.

I cannot see it,
there's nothing to be seen,
just a sense of someone
or something
in the room with me.

At some point before
the veil of darkness
or the reaper's cloak, covers me
and after trying a number of lights,
none of which work,
I awaken.

In all the years
that I've had this nightmare
this darkness, this presence,
this grim reaper,
has never had any distinguishable features,
no grinning skull,
no menacing eyes,
no face or form.
Yet I've known it's there
and perhaps, a part
of me believes
there's something real
to this presence
and for that reason,
no matter how much I deny it,
I am afraid of
the dark.

November 2, 2009
By Bruce Whealton