I hate light at night.

I hate light at night. When there is light I can see things. Things no one would want to see. My bedroom must be as dark as possible because any light invites them. If I can’t see them I can pretend they aren’t there. Even the smallest sliver of light sneaking in between the curtains gives them a spot. A spot to be visible. A spot to torment me again. These things that I see, they don’t go away when a light is cast on them. They stand in the light brashly. Knowing there is nothing I can do. Knowing that I can’t breathe. Knowing that as a tear runs down my terrified check they will disappear as quickly as they came. I know that tomorrow night they will be back, searching for that sliver of light. That tiny little sliver where I will have to see them again. Night after night after night after night after night they are there. The things I see at night.

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