I am scared of the dark. I really don’t like it. For a long time, even turning the light off to go to sleep really bothered me, to the point where I’d make sure I went to bed well before my parents so that if I left my door open, there’d still be some light coming in and I’d be asleep by the time those lights were turned off.
I’ve gotten past that, but I still don’t go outside after dark if I can avoid it. Sometimes it’s because I’m scared there’s a vampire or a zombie or some other kind of creature waiting to get me. It doesn’t matter that the rational part of my brain is insisting that those things don’t exist. Other times, it’s vaguely more realistic: if I’m walking down a dark street, even just down to the service station to get some milk, I’m convinced that every car that passes is going to slow down and someone’s going to get out and drag me away or kill me in the street. I always feel so relieved when they drive straight past.
Deep down, I know it’s pretty silly. But a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt anyone, right?
Yes, this story is about me. I made a compromise with myself. I was allowed to let today’s Story A Day slide if I wrote 500 words on each of my WIPs… but it soon became clear that wasn’t going to happen, which meant I had to write my Story A Day… I was trying to think of something supernatural to go with, but this is what happened instead. Describing an interesting/annoying quirk about myself seemed simple enough to go with.