When I was a child I was deathly afraid of the dark. So my parents bought me a night light so I

would be more comfortable and get more sleep. Except this only made things worst. The night light

had a timer and I would always end up staying up later when the timer went off. In the twenty minutes

the light stayed on I would be filled with anxiety on when it would shut off. What time will I be left

alone in the dark to suffer, to be terrorized by these monsters that only I can see? I guess now I can

say I've grown out of that fear because lately I've been in the darkness. I've been pulled forward and

pushed back and steady in a dimension of blackness. Of nothing.

                                                                              ***
     The car he drove in was a small chevy truck and it continuously swerved left and right on the road.

The time was 9:00 pm and Brent's mind went in a million directions. His vision bleary, body sweating,

and breathing heavy.  He didn't know what drug he was on and didn't care. He shuffled around in his

car to look for his phone. It was absolutely important that he called Sara. He didn't want to ruin     

anything else.

      "I'm on my way Sara, on my way," he mumbled under his breath. He found his phone on the

passenger seat floor and managed to pick it up without swerving off the road, but by this time he was

in the wrong lane. He found Sara's number and began to call her.

       "I'm so sorry," he apologized. He was late to the opening night of her play once again. And it was

because of the drugs. He forgot completely. He couldn't let her down because if he did he'd let

himself down even more. The phone rang once, twice, three times. He was losing hope, losing her,

losing himself. The one thing that didn't make his life meaningless was slipping away from him. He

forgot about the road in front of him. Forgot that he was driving. Every single pulse in his body

thumped with force. With each ring of the phone he felt it more.

     "Pick up..."

Before he could realize that cars were speeding towards him she picked up.

     "Hello?"

Two cars collided with the front of his truck. His head whipped forward and his chest crushed into

the steering wheel. He completely slipped away out of consciousness.

                                                                              ~

The doctor repeated himself on Brent's stability to his family and friends.

       "He's been misusing drugs. Have any of you known that?" he asked. Everyone shook their heads

with puzzled faces.

      "The accident triggered him to fall into a coma. With the amount of drugs we found in his system

he could've overdosed and died. But we're doing our very best to make him healthy again. Although

for now our main goal is to keep him stable," the doctor explained.

Brent's mother walked away, sat down, and sobbed into her hands. And Sara stood in shock.

Replaying the awful crashing sounds she heard on the other end of the phone.

                                                                           ***
      Memories fluttered to me and went away: Road trips, birthdays, graduations, and movings. In

between the pictures there was this charcoaled emptiness. It's not hot or cold. There are no sounds

to be heard. Nothing to see. No thought to be conjured up. But what I like the most about the

transition is there was no weight. Each memory that came had a background weight of joy, sadness,

or frustration. No matter the feeling the pull was there. Tugging at me like a child yanking on his

Àqaaa blouse. I liked the vacant space that gave me nothing to feel. I longed to become apart of

something so simple.

      But the memories moved along like clockwork. And I found myself stuck in scenesthat I didn't

want to replay: Being disowned from my family, losing friends, not keeping a single job or being

kicked out of countless apartments to scrounge on the streets. In fact I didn't want to go back to any

of them. Not even the youngest and blissful of moments. They were long gone. Overpowered by

society, drugs, people who've come and gone...myself.

                                                                       
     I've never thought death would greet me like this. It's not as demanding as I thought it would be.

Or painful. Death. Is that what I've wanted all along? What I've been escaping to every time I inhale

smoke or take some pills? To be in the depths of my past, hopes of my future, or wondrous

daydreams? The more the thought lingered the more I became eerie to the feeling. The visualization

came to me on what I might become.

      The sensation of being in the midst of nothing, doing nothing, and having nothing. Not a

breath, not a name, not a soul to know who I am. I wanted to shrivel up into a ball, but at the same

time I wanted to scream for my life back. Not be stuck in memories and the dark. Sara crept up into

my mind. The one person who's stayed and looked after me when no one else has. I didn't want to

lose something so valuable. I longed for something completely different than nothing now. For the first

time in years I longed for more. And life jolted up within my body.

                                                                             ***

He sat up unexpectedly to the family and friends that were in his room. His heart pounded through his

head and he breathed heavily. Everyone rushed over frantically to settle him down. Sara was there,

right by his side. He hasn't seen the others in months, but Sara was there. And he didn't want the

loud pounding of his heart to stop. He wanted to live. When he saw Sara he realized that he would

no longer be afraid of the dark. Neither will he embrace it. He would live in the now and be aware that

he is alive.