Darkness. Darkness has always existed and will always continue to exist.
Even after the Earth stops spinning, even after the Sun turns itself into a desolate and cold star; and even after the universe turns into a nothingness that exists only in the annals of history; Darkness will always remain . People say that the universe started with the Big Bang, a white flash of blinding light gave birth to the universe, an explosion of unfathomable energy which resulted in the millions of planets, stars, and asteroids which constitute space. They say that the flash of white light was the first thing that was willed into existence.
That is a lie, or more so it is a mistake, a misconception caused by humanity’s limited understanding of time itself instead of an outright falsehood. Yes, it was the Big Bang, that instant flash of blazing white that gave birth to our existence right now, but it was not the first thing that existed.
Before the light came, before the light even existed, before we even knew what the light would be, The Darkness was already there.
The Darkness is where my story begins. Actually, it’s where the story of every single person in the world begins. It’s shockingly frightening how similar the creation of the universe and the creation of life are, down to humanity’s misconceptions of how they both begin. Just as with the beginning of life itself, people think that the first thing that babies are aware of existing, even if that memory itself becomes a faint wisp swept away by the harsh winds of life, is that blinding bright light. But just like the story of the universe, the start of life begins in Darkness as well.
Think about it, you may not remember it, but life does start before you enter the world, before you become the result of a mother’s boundless effort of hours upon hours of unimaginable pain caused by their love for their child. No, it starts in the womb, where not a single one of us can see, our first introduction to the world is one of complete Darkness.
Yes, it has been proven that babies can hear the words or songs our parents play, convincing themselves that their babies not yet out of the womb can understand the symphonies of Beethoven or the words of Dr. Seuss. Indeed, these unborn children also get nutrition, causing a mother already in pain, discomfort, and constant agony to have to make even more efforts to feed a fetus that wants more and more as each day goes by. They can even feel the pain and maleficence that can occur to a mother’s body, feeling the effects of the most toxic substances created by man. Chemicals that only exist because mankind’s nature decided that a moment of heavenly bliss is worth decades of malaise to their own bodies, betrayal towards everyone they love, while going against every moral they once stood for.
But even with all of the things a baby in the womb can feel and sense near the very beginning of their conception, even with all these miracles and biological astonishments that occur in the creation of life, there is still one thing they cannot do.
They cannot see. The Darkness is only what they know.
However, that is where the similarities between my story and everyone else are. See what normally happens is that even if one is born in the Darkness, they eventually get exposed to the light. They open their eyes and no longer only know the terror of The Dark. The light illuminates the beauty of the world around them. It shines on the deepest love of a mother who tirelessly takes care of their newborn, who undergoes the gargantuan effort of taking care of a creature who has so many needs yet cannot express them; yet still does so with the brightest smile on her face. Her eyes illuminated by their adoration for the baby in her arms, the desire to see them grow and reach their highest potential, and the brief moments when her baby reciprocates her love in a manner so pure, so unfiltered, and so untainted by the corruption of the world that it makes any known love beforehand feel minimal and incomplete before this. A child should also see the tireless hours that their father puts into his job, the haggard look on his face as he enters the door, the eyebags drooping even lower than the posture projecting the fatigue he feels, but yet leaves all the baggage and struggles that we know as life at the door to give the tightest hug to his child. A love that is so pure that any of the sorrows, problems, worries, and hazards he faces to give a better life than he ever could dream of, disappear the moment he sees his child with a smile that radiates the entire home. With the bubbliness, positivity, and pure happiness abound from the simple words of “Da, Da da!”.
Yet even more than that, a child themselves should be exposed to a light of their own, the brightness caused by the memories in their life that build who they are for the rest of their lives. The light caused by the times that they will spend with their family that will be looked back upon as the fondest and most joyous times in their lives. The light that illuminates a child’s life where their only worry is not spending enough time with their mother and father who loves them more than life itself.
Every other child got their light, their lives brightened with the gift of a beautiful life.
I did not, even after I was born, even after I could finally see, my life was still shrouded in Darkness.
My eyes just like any other infant were eventually opened, and even without any ability to form rational thought, even without knowing what expectation was, something deep inside me thought that I would be able to be illuminated with light of life itself, like I was possessed with a natural assumption that I would be bathed in the light.
Yet instead, as soon as my eyes opened, what I saw was not a life full of light, nor a life that was illuminated by blinding levels of beauty. Instead, I opened myself to a life that makes the Darkness before the universe look like the brightest lighthouse to a sailor lost and adrift in the darkest and stormiest of seas.
From the moment I could remember, instead of a pristine home, instead of well cleaned counters, instead of clear floors, instead of a manicured garden, instead of walls whiter than the souls of the families that provide the feeling of warmth and security that turns a house into a home, and everything that light reveals to be a beautiful life, I saw filth of every kind.
The walls of where I lived were a plain shade of white, with the ceilings fairing no better with a monotonous shade of gray. Each and every corner of that infernal building that I was forced to call a home was infested with stains and dirt of every kind. The walls that could’ve existed entirely as a mere dullness, instead were transformed into a harrowing trashiness as it was splashed with dripping colors of brown and yellow, caused by the unrelenting amounts of nicotine in and around my house. No matter how many times I attempted to rid this daily reminder of constant Darkness in my life, this constant absence of an illuminated life, its stain would still remain.
What’s worse is that the source of this abhorrent display of liquified waste being splattered over each and every inch of this house did not come from within, as it was being caused by those outside. Those strangers who chose to shorten each and every breath they take, just to be able to feel like the air they breathe can be lighter than it was when they have to take the full stress of life head on, even if it is for barely a fleeting moment. The infectious smog of the troubles they chose to blow away, not knowing it will just come back even stronger once the mirage caused by the smoke that comes out their mouth is blown away, enters this abode I detest due to all of its windows being broken . The putridness of this space is further exacerbated by the lack of any separation from the repulsion of the outside world. For I am provided no protection from all the dirt and grime of the Dark to enter my home. Whether it’s the butt of once long sticks now shorter than the lifespans of those who smoked it, bottles that were empty of its contents in order for those who drank it to empty out their problems, or the bags of food of those who were too consumed with their own satisfaction to worry about where they’d go, the floor is filled from end to end with the dirt of the world around it.
But the disease of filth from the outside is not the only thing that has taken root in this abhorrent cesspit. For spots of black now erode the once ceilings of white, corrupting its purity and spreading its blackness, defiling it more and more each and every day. That spread of infection from within the walls, caused by an inability to cut the cause of its infection and letting spread day after day could not be a more apt metaphor for the biggest filth of all. More than the grime that plagues my walls, the infection that seeps into my ceilings, and the litter that decorates my floor, the biggest source of filth are the people themselves.
The Darkness has caused people, who were once pure, once illuminated by the light known as the miracle of life, to commit the most heinous deeds that one man can do to another. The Darkness has controlled people, people who lived next to each other, people who have eaten in each other’s house, people who have drank and laughed in joyous celebration, people who have once known what it was like to know the light to brutalize and murder each other over the most minute of differences. Differences that were created by man, Darkness that was manufactured by ourselves transforming love into hate, acceptance into hatred, loyalty into betrayal, and each person acting in the most selfish way possible only to state their wants and needs, disregarding anyone else and even stepping on them if it gives them even the slightest bit of an improvement.
The Darkness also realizes the sensation of the Light and has wrapped the world around its finger into giving them even the faintest sensation of the feeling. The Darkness has convinced people to sniff, inhale, inject, and ingest chemicals that they have no idea of, with effects they are completely oblivious to, with the harshest impacts to their body that they will not feel until it’s too late. Darkness allows mankind to feel the smallest perception of the true euphoria that the light gives. Darkness pulls back its veil, tricking one into thinking they are finally feeling the Light again. But they only close their eyes, and allow them to remember the pure, bright joy they once felt long ago, letting them get high so they do not realize the depths of how low they’ve been pulled by the Darkness. Once they reopen their eyes and the next time, they try to reach the light it always gets farther and farther away, it takes complete control. All because they tried to search for the light they can only fleetingly remember, failing to realize they have become an envoy of the Darkness, spreading its pollution and executing its corruption with no pause.
The Darkness has incited evil, and the Darkness has shown cunning, but the Darkness’ favorite tool is its cruelty, rooted in its sense of irony. Darkness forces people to do acts of evil, acts that go against the moral code that were ingrained in their lives before they could walk, even if they do not want to. This is the most sadistic method that Darkness uses to corrupt.
Whether inexcusably evil, understandable, or with a cause that I could not hate them for, these people acted out the will of the Darkness. The more that they act, the more that they do the bidding of the Dark, its influence grows stronger. Its call to those it has not yet infected grows louder and its pull towards those who tether on the edge of Light and Dark becomes more magnetic. Their actions dim the void so much that its blackness cannot even be penetrated by beacons of Light. Where once people who were paragons of their lives being blessed by the Light of a beautiful life could briefly provide an oasis from the siren song of the Darkness, now they are completely absorbed. Their brightness simply eradicated, making it seem like the Darkness was always there, with the Light a mere myth.
Yet despite all of the grime within these borders I am forced to call home, despite the despair of waking up to the ever-growing corruption of the Darkness and its servants, despite living in the middle of the Darkness itself, I was not consumed by it. Even living in this life that is as dim as an unprotected match in strong winds, one that was as dark as a night robbed of the luster of the stars, I was not surrounded in complete Darkness. For throughout my thirteen years of merely having to battle for survival day after day due to the Darkness, I had one light. A light so soft, so gentle, one that flickers on and off, always on the brink of getting snuffed yet burning all the same. A light that has kept me away from only seeing the Darkness, a light that has illuminated a most miniscule version of a beautiful life, no matter how small its circle of brightness may be.
This light had a name, and her name was Mom.
My whole life was surrounded in the Darkness, and I would have been completely engrossed by it if it wasn’t for her being the light to ward off the tendrils of the Dark. In the beginning, I actually thought I had found the light, for the first thing that I saw when I could finally see was her eyes. Looking into them, I saw the brightness of a million suns, so lustrous that I felt that if she looked in any direction, she could illuminate everything along her path. Yet at the same time, her eyes possessed a gentle kindness, where she looked upon me with such compassion and sincerity that it felt like a constant gentle caress to provide comfort to my soul. Every time I would look into her eyes, her gaze of fire and tenderness, any trace of the Darkness that managed to latch itself or attempt to corrupt me during the day would be washed away as soon as I saw her.
My light, my mom, my only refuge from the Darkness, my lighthouse guiding me away from the depths of the void.
Yet despite all she has done for me, despite all that she is, despite being my everything, despite being the only reason I do not try and leave this world corrupted by Darkness, I let her be exposed, be corrupted by the Darkness. In fact, I even asked her to.
I was so scared, so terrified of the people I’ve seen around me who have been influenced by this void, so afraid of getting corrupted that I could never face it myself. I was so scared to get past the door, get past that imaginary divide that separated me from the Darkness seeping its way into each and every person. I couldn’t do anything in life.
She didn’t even hesitate, she was the one who faced the influence, the call, the alluring temptations, and the corruption of the Dark every day. Just so I could have a semblance of a normal childhood, have glimpses of the brightness from a beautiful life, and have the opportunity to potentially escape the Darkness; she took all of it by herself. And now, the corruption has started to set into the only one that’s illuminated my life. My mom, my lighthouse that has beckoned me, time and time again, away the sea of Darkness.
It has shackled her, chained her to this prison of filth and pollution. The luster in her eyes that once was a beacon that shielded me from the Darkness of the life around me, now engulfed away, absorbed by the void of the Darkness. Each and every day, the Light in her eyes dims duller and duller, a mere wisp of the flame that her gaze once possessed.
While the Darkness always takes its toll on one who shines their Light so bright, it was not the Darkness outside that has bound my mom to its influence, no it was the Darkness that enters. More than the dirt that plagues my floors, the stains adorning the walls of my house, it is this Darkness itself that makes me refuse to ever consider this house a true home.
For a home should be safe, a place where you can always be basked in the Light of love, security, happiness and support. Yet each and every time this Darkness enters, the few flickers of the Light others get to see gets blown away by its mere presence shattering the illusion of a comfort called home. Even more so when all the defilement that is stored within this entity spills out of it, surrounding the walls around me with the Darkness even blacker than infections that grow on the ceilings.
Yet no matter what, my mother, in order to shield me from being sucked into that void of pain, despair, and agony, took upon that Darkness each and every day. She shielded me from its rage, its toxicity, and its nature of rotting anything kind or beautiful, and faced it with a fire and brightness that could illuminate the souls lost to the lowest depths of the Darkness. She would do this every time, even if this Darkness would just suck that vigor from her eyes and suck it into its infinite void, removing ever so slowly the demeanor that made her so beautiful and mesmerizing and spitting it at her feet. But too much of that for too long has weakened her, where even after this Darkness temporarily retreats before its tortures resume later, her Light does not shine as bright as it used to.
Tonight, I’ve had enough. Seeing year after year of her Light dimming, being a mere sliver of the radiance, it once possessed was such a heavy burden that weighed heavier and heavier on my heart. But now, her Light is almost gone. Her spirit confined to the void that spreads the Darkness, and I know that she will not last much longer. For even with her luster being a speck of what it once was, she still stands to the Darkness for me. She still shields the brightness of my Light, even if hers dampens more every day.
She has protected me too long and lost too much, and it is time for me to finally confront the Darkness itself. I now must use my Light not just to illuminate myself, but to finally peer into the Darkness and see the demons that conceal themselves in its mist. I am tired of seeing the one Light in my life be snuffed out from the immorality and the decadence that the Darkness continues to fill humanity with.
I WILL NOT let my mother fall to the Darkness, like everyone else around us.
Even though the Darkness comes every day, it leaves us alone for some periods of time; always leaving us in the morning and coming back at night, specifically when the clock shows 7:30. Perhaps it likes to torture us by dangling the allure of the Light that we can have when it’s gone, until it barges down and shatters any notion of its shine to be permanent. Nonetheless, it leaves and comes back regularly and tonight, instead of my mom facing it, I will look at it.
I look at the blinking of the clock and see as it flashes the numbers 7:17, and despite how much I’ve committed to this, despite how much I know I need to do this, my heart screams and my mind trembles. Thoughts that have made me too afraid to face the Darkness before, the thoughts that make me want to run and hide.
“It’ll consume you” “You can’t resist its corruption” “It’ll hurt you with unimaginable pain”, all these thoughts of doubt echoed in my mind, with more and more joining the fray that makes the comforting thought of retreating more and more alluring. I stood there, at the door, getting more and more tempted to simply flee, hide again like I always had. After all, it has always worked well before. But as I was about to lose faith, as the last of my convictions was about to leave my body, I heard something that reminded me of why I needed to do this. Why despite all my fears, all my apprehensions, all the possibilities of what could go wrong, I need to finally confront the Darkness once and for all.
I heard nothing but
silence
My mother was not only the Light that brightened up my day, but a Light that guided and led me towards developing my own shine in a way that she could be proud of. Anytime I felt afraid, she’d hold me close, and her warmth would melt all the fears that were weighing me down. Anytime I needed love, she’d look at me with her dual gaze of passion and gentleness and show me the love that I needed to re-energize my Light. And in times like this, times where I was nervous about what to do or hesitant to take action, she’d hold me tightly and tell me in a firm yet gentle way that I needed to do what is right, to shine my Light as bright as I can, even when others would prefer their actions or their thoughts to be hidden in the Dark.
Yet now she said nothing. Her eyes merely staring at the television in front of her. A gaze that once illuminated whole rooms, whole parties, and the lives of everyone in them, now stuck on the fantasies created by others. The light of her eyes now kept a prisoner within the borders of that square, wooden box. Her body that once teemed with life, joy, and a luster for life now sat dead on that old, torn up chair; one that was as brown and dilapidated as the walls that trap us both.
Looking back at her, at the empty shell of the one who used to be the brightest lighthouse in the endless storm in this sea of Darkness, my doubts washed away, my convictions now engraved in steel, and my faith now certain. I knew I had to do what needed to be done, because it was only me who could…
SCREECH
“What the fuck”, I thought panickingly to myself. I quickly glanced at the clock, and it flashed 7:23. My mind scrambled for thoughts on what I should do as I thought to myself out loud “He’s too goddamn early, I need more damn time!”. I realized that I didn’t even know what I would do to confront the Darkness once it arrived at my doorstep. It took so much courage and willpower to even stand here at the door, that I completely forgot I needed a plan of action to deal with it once it arrived.
thud
Fuck! My mind was hastily thinking of solution after solution, course of action after course of action in order to find one that could properly get rid of this Darkness. Yet it was a fruitless endeavor, as each of these potential plans were unrealistic, or out of my means to achieve.
crunch crunch crunch
The noise signaled the Darkness was now walking on the land right outside the door, crushing the leaves that were as dead as the futures of everyone who lived around here.
As I kept trying and trying to think of something, of anything that I could do, no matter how much of a Hail Mary it would be, I heard it, the sound that announced the arrival of the Darkness, that let its presence be known like horns signaling the arrival of a king
bang bang bang
I froze. I did not know what to do. My mind could not process everything quickly enough. I failed to think about what I would do to finally end this Darkness that’s been polluting my mom. How much more could I not think about what to do now that this creature was at my door. I had only seconds to react to the situation at hand, and despite my mind moving at the speed I wanted to run away from it all, my thoughts were still blank. While I was still thinking about what I could do, the Darkness’ entity made itself known once again.
Bang Bang Bang
Despite it just being mere sounds, it caused fear to ripple throughout my body. Probably some deep part of my mind recognized that the only thing between me and the Darkness outside was a door that was way past its prime, splintering apart every time it closed. I knew what I had to do, I had to open the door. Yet despite knowing what needed to be done, my body would not obey my mind. It suspended itself from any movement, acting as an automatic self-defense mechanism as it accepted the reality that my mind was trying to ignore.
I would most likely die as I confronted the Darkness.
Though even so, what must be done must be done, no matter how much fear was freezing me in place. But as my legs started to inch towards the door, guided by the herculean courage I summoned to force my body to move, the Darkness announced not only its presence again, but this time its displeasure as well.
BANG BANG BANG
All the courage disappeared from my body in that instant. I was trying to regain my composure, yet all I could do was…
BANG BANG BANG
Tears were streaming down my face as fear engulfed the entirety of my mind, body, and spirit. I wanted so badly to open the door, but my body betrayed me.
BANG BANG BANG
My whole body was shaking as I completely lost control and could only let waterfalls flow from my eyes while my hands desperately tried to cover my ears.
BANG BANG BANG
“Please God, save me from this Darkness. Please Lord, save me and my mom. I beg of you, please take us away. Please God, please God, please God…”
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
“…please God, please God, please God, please God…”
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
“Please god, please God, please God, please, please, please, please, please…”
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BA–
Suddenly, there was silence. I heard nothing, the crickets of the insects outside, the people who have succumbed to the Darkness, and not even the whistles of the harsh winds.
I thought that finally, God answered my prayers. That He finally saw the courage I gathered and rewarded me for it. Then He finally realized that this evil needed to be defeated and rid of this Earth. That God granted me the wish I prayed for every night before I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up. That the Darkness would finally go away
But then I remembered he does not answer prayers, that god does not exist, that even if he did, he abandoned me and my mother a long time ago to be at the mercy of the darkness; as any belief I still had was shattered when I heard a voice.
When I heard its voice.
“I’m coming in.”
Three words, three words was all it took for my body to be no longer my own as it was pulled towards the door. As my hands twisted the knob of my door, I realized why my body finally moved on its own. I thought it had abandoned all sense of preservation, all sense of survival, and finally gave up. But it was just one simple reason that caused my body to forsake my mind and open the door.
The way those words were said.
If there was anger behind those words, I could have convinced myself that hiding behind my door would give me the protection I needed, as short as that would be. If there was a threat behind those words, I could have convinced myself that hiding me and my mom in the house would be the safer option, and left the door closed. If there was any emotion in its voice, my mind would have come up with the necessary excuse to cope with not opening the door.
But he had none. Those three simple words were spoken with no malice, anger, disappointment, bloodlust, or any other feeling at all. They were spoken with so much certainty that it felt like whether or not I tried to stop the Darkness from coming in or tried to hide to avoid it, it was guaranteed to enter this home. My mind subconsciously figured out that if it was going to come in regardless of anything I would want to do, then I needed to welcome the Darkness in. For how much angrier it would be if it found out that I tried to block it from entering or how much would it delight in the torture knowing that I tried to hide from the Darkness’ arrival, even if it was inevitable.
That is why in spite of my heart pounding itself out of my chest, in spite of the alarm bells that were shrieking in my mind, in spite of every fiber of my being wanting to just hide from the Darkness outside, I turned the knob of the door open and removed the only barrier between me and the Darkness.
With the only barrier between me and the Darkness gone, I finally came face to face with it. I was so afraid that the Darkness would consume me, cause me pain I could not imagine, strike me with the fury of an animal of the hunt, or scream obscenities that would tear the very semblance of my identity.
Yet the Darkness did not do any of that.
Instead, it only uttered a single sentence as the Darkness gazed into my eyes and stared into the depths of my soul.
“Hey son, I’m home.”