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Thursday, October 09, 2008


There was a period during one summer in my childhood when I would wake up in the middle of the night, terrified. It is difficult to explain the scope of my fear; it seemed to be a tangible, supreme being. I would be shaking, soaked in perspiration and clutching the duvet tightly around me. What I was so very afraid of, I cannot say, but I have a feeling that it was simply the darkness. I still detest it.

I lay awake in this state for a while, demonizing every sound and everything I thought I saw. Then I would gather all my courage and jump out of bed, grabbing a pillow and a duvet, running as quickly and as quietly as I could to my parents' bedroom. I would create a makeshift bed on the carpet next to their bed, which was strangely towering over me. As I was falling asleep, I could hear the fan gently oscillating and feel the cool air it was blowing. On the bed, I could hear my parents peacefully breathing. In that moment I experienced perfect contentment, a feeling that I have only recently rediscovered.

Around five o'clock, as daylight started filtering in, I would wake again and return to my bedroom where I slept until I had to get up for school.

I wonder whether my parents knew.

Written by i


jeanettix said...

I have never read a whole entire blog in one sitting before tonight

I said...

Thanks for the wonderful comments, you are too kind. I wish I was more determined to blog. Sometimes, I think of something brilliant to write here. And then the laziness takes over and the volatile thoughts just evaporate.