Diyanni Toxey

The Dead Hour

People talk about the things that go “bump” in the night as if they don’t exist. The scary fairytales that we all know are fantasy, non-existent, inconsequential even; they are used to scare children into cleaning their rooms and provide movie dates where you can hold the girl you like real close when the jump scenes appear on the screen. Halloween is just a holiday; Freddy Krueger is just a character; Sleepy Hollow is just a town; Annabelle is just a doll. We can sleep at night with the lights off and the windows open because we know these things. I used to believe that as well. I wish I could go back in time and once again become ignorant to the truth. Unfortunately, I can never go back. I now wake up in the middle of the night with the sheets soaked with my sweat, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest, my throat dry from screaming, and my fingers numb from squeezing the pillow next to me. I am afraid, I am scared, I am terrified. I can no longer walk down the street without looking over my shoulder or sleep in a room with the lights off. I will tell you of the night that has changed my life and I hope and I pray that whomever reads this will never have to experience the true horrors of the world as I have. There are dangers that hide in the dark and lie beneath our shadows, they are right in front of our eyes and sleep comfortably underneath our beds. I will tell you of the night I discovered pure unadulterated fear.