dark

Growing up in the capital, it never really got dark--not in the sense that I always imagined it, so dark you can't see your hand in front of your face, the kind of dark where you're lucky if you can see the suggestion of shapes. I didn't think about it often, but every now and then I'd catch a glimpse of it. It used to frighten me, as my imagination would fill the darkness with horrors or, worse, would imagine it completely empty, a void that would swallow everything given the chance. My heart would race every time.

It's normal for children to be frightened of the dark, I suppose. And perhaps it's normal for that fear to linger--why else build a city where there is always light enough to see by? The monsters may be gone, but surely we must believe that there is something lurking in the shadows, something that can be banished if only the lanterns stay lit.

I don't know when I became obsessed with the dark. Perhaps it was the sheer novelty of it--in the city the darkness was hard to find, but out here, all it took was a cloudy night and the shadows would overtake everything.

I remember one night a storm rolled in after everyone was asleep. I wrapped myself in a cloak and felt my way away from camp, off the trail, and into the woods. The wind and rain and hail were impossibly loud, and my only illumination came from the occasional flash of lightning--too quick to do anything but disorient me further.

When I'd gone far enough--far enough that I wasn't sure I could find my way back, perhaps, or maybe I simply couldn't bring myself to go any further--I found a tree to sit down against, and let the storm rage around me. I was cold and lost and I don't think my companions could have heard me even if I shouted for help.

I still couldn't tell you why I felt the need--no, the compulsion--to do this, but I can tell you that it felt amazing. Surrounded by nothing but storm and darkness, with so little protection against the world, my heart racing like it did when I was a child--I felt alive, like I'd found something I didn't realize I was missing.

I made my way back to camp when the sky began to lighten enough for me to see. By then the rain had let up, and I wanted to start a fire. No one asked why I was up so early, or why I was soaked and grinning. My companions, I think, understood me better than I did.