When you close your eyes, what do you see? 

You stir your spoon around a bowl of grey soup. It is supposed to be a milky cream colour, but the red and yellow neon of the city have decided to die today, leaving you to rely on a faint white light of nature. You hear a buzz in your pocket, perhaps from your family, perhaps from your friends, though the latter is highly unlikely. When was the last time they messaged you anyways?

Hot soapy water cascades down your hair, your face, and onto your scabrous and lumpy skin. The flashlight glare penetrates foggy glass panels to highlight all your imperfections. You inspect each and every bump on your tanned arms before scrubbing them ferociously with untrimmed nails. Steam condensates on your nostrils and moisturizes your lip fissures as you expose your bare body to the sharp winter air. With your clothes on, you sheath yourself with a blanket – a fuzzy blanket with a light scent of freshly grounded arabica. Your nose crinkles as a strand of wet hair flops near your eyes. Whatever. Your cognitive machine shuts down. 

“Hey there,” a voice whispers into your ear. “Want to see something cool?”  

When you open your eyes, a blob of ink hovers over your face. It slithers up your chest and crosses your arms; its body rises and falls like a bloated and sucked-in belly. You stare at the two holes at the center of the black mass. Scared. No, you aren’t. For this is sir Darkness and he has come to visit you again. 

“How are you, my dear friend?” A part of his intangible body splits, forming two tentacle arms. From the ceiling, two bags of biscuits poof onto the blanket. You examine the packets; your forehead wrinkles as the corners of your mouth droop. 

“Yum!” Sir Darkness exclaims as brown crumbs from his mouth freckle the white bedsheet. A whiff of cacao hit your nostrils. 

“Sir! Don’t ruin my bed.”

“Don’t worry, my good friend. By morning, all will be gone.” He winks. “What shall we watch today? How about this one?”

He hands you a tablet; the coldness of metal lingers on your palm. On the screen, there is a little girl: chubby, dark eyes, and a noticeably asymmetrical face. She looks both nervous and angry under her thick tattered fringe. You nod, shifting yourself back against the bed frame. Why does he love this so much?

The movie commends: 

Once there was a little girl who grew up in a happy family. She was happy despite not having many friends. When she was two, her mother gave birth to her younger sister. Her mother had tasked her with the strong role, the one whom her sister could depend on. She gladly accepted it, for she adored her sister until the end of this whole wide world. 

However, life was no fairytale. In her first year of elementary school, she moved to a new school, a school where they didn’t speak her language. When she tried befriending them, they pointed fingers at her, flashing their pearly white teeth. Something was forming. A piece of phlegm? No, it was more acidic, more bitter, sticking to her throat like a cobweb. Her face contorted, her jagged teeth scraped one another as if they were the edge of a knife sharpened against a metal surface. Tears brewed at the corner of her eyes. Run! Her instinct told her. Run so they won’t see her cry, won’t see her weak. And so she ran and ran. After a while, she stumbled across a never-ending field. The smell of freshly cut grass permeated the air as the laughter of children fizzled into the background. At the perimeters, dark buildings towered over her, inescapable, oppressive. They observed her like gods, but they didn’t pity her.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Happiness was fickle; her family was shattering. She knew. Yet her parents insisted on hiding it from her. That night, series of profanities echoed throughout the living room. 

“What’s happening?” Her sister’s eyes bore into hers. Such innocence, she wished she was her. 

“They're arguing. Come. Let’s go inside our room.” She grabbed the soft little hands and dragged her inside their bedroom. They hurled into a ball on the bed, arms around each other. The shouts got louder and louder. She covered her sisters’ ears with her hands; warm breath brushed against her chest. Soon, the breathing evened. A crescent shape flickered on the blanket. Light sifted through the blinds, outlining the irregular shape of the vase. The water had emptied and, so had the white lily, its browned petals scattered across the floor. 

“What do you think?” Sir Darkness asks, his cheeks stuffed with sweets. 

“That girl is pathe–” Your voice cracks. You slide yourself into the comfort of your blanket.

“That girl really loves her sister.” He plops the final piece into his mouth and licks those tentacle fingers. 

“Indeed!” You exclaim, horrified by sir Darkness’ barbaric manners. “But she will come to hate her sister.”

Another packet has dropped from the ceiling, though this time, triple its original size. After sufficiently stuffing himself, he asks, “Why?” You shift your gaze towards your toes. An uncomfortable silence envelops the room, plunging you into your bed. 

You know why. 

She was perfect and you were not. She was charming and you were not. She could make anybody love her and you. Without knowing, jealousy had gnawed on your being like a parasitic leech. You loved her, and yet you hated her. Hated how people mistook your name for hers. Hated how you had to clean a pile of dishes when she forgot to. Hated how she had dozens of her friends when you had– none. 

Who needs friends anyways, you convinced yourself. 

But you were a walking contradiction. There were days you sat on the school bench, your thighs scorched by the summer heat. You hoped that if you stayed long enough, your telepathic powers would connect you with someone and that someone would reach out to you, understand you. Perhaps, God would pity you and cast a spell so someone would come to you. 

You waited. And waited. And waited, until whooping sounds pierced the entire school. That was the end of your fantasy.

You glance at sir Darkness, who is munching on a piece of soft bread, and shake your head. “I don’t know.” He swallows the remaining chunk into his wobbly belly before letting out a thick abrupt burp. You chuckled. 

“Fair enough.” He shrugs. “Well then, shall I go?”

You smile and wave him goodbye. “See you soon, sir.” Your eyelids flutter before slumping down into a heavy slumber. 

When you open your eyes, the room has been painted with a golden hue. The sounds of cars buzzing on the street, people dawdling their way to work, dogs barking at each other from the floor below, flit into your ears. You wipe the tears off your eyes and open the windows. A chilly gust of wind blast several strands of dark hair out of your face. Underneath your feet, a deep shadow surfaces. As the midday sun ambles across the cloudless sky, its size increases, so much so that it can pull you down and devour your entire existence. 

You walk away. No need to worry. After all, what happens in the dark stays in the dark. Right?