英文&搬运｜我不害怕黑暗，我害怕的是藏于其中的东西

I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m afraid of what’s in it

原文地址：https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/kp5xn9/im_not_afraid_of_the_dark_im_afraid_of_whats_in_it/

作者：Verastahl （https://www.reddit.com/user/Verastahl/）

正文：

You have a lovely home.

Yeah, thanks I guess. It was on the market a long time. Out in the boonies and rundown as shit, but I don’t mind.

Well, you’ve definitely modernized it. I like the camera at the front door. I’ve been telling my husband we need one of those. And those things in the yard. Are they…

Yeah. Lights. I had a choice of twenty grand on the roof or on the lights. Guess which I picked.

Well, given your circumstances, I guess that seemed like the right choice. Um, Claire, before we get started, I have a little card I need to read to you, okay?

Yeah, sure. Okay.

Great. I am here acting as a social worker assigned to your case through the community mental health board. I am not a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist, and our conversations are not a form of mental health counseling. They are not confidential, and um, I am not qualified to act as your therapist. If you feel the need for counseling beyond that which may have already been recommended, or you any ideas of self-harm or harm of others, please let me know immediately.

Okay, cool.

Sorry, it’s a mouthful. But if I don’t read it, I can get in trouble. You understand.

Sure.

Now Claire, you’re in our program because of your n…nyctophobia. Fear of the dark, right?

That’s what they tell me.

And you got referred to the program as part of the administration of what began as a criminal complaint, is that right?

Yeah. I was in a grocery store. In the back, at the freezers. Those rolling blackouts we’ve been having the last few months? One of them kicked in while I was looking at some frozen peas or something. I thought my heart was going to burst. Security lights came on, but they were crappy and far away. They didn’t do much. Besides, sometimes a little light just makes it worse. Lets you see what’s in the dark.

Uh-huh.

Anyway, I caught a glimpse of something. A reflection. Probably nothing—the chrome off the milk cooler or something, I don’t know. But it freaked me right the fuck out. I started screaming, running toward the front. Toward the light from the front windows. And I guess I hit a display. Pasta sauce or something, I don’t remember. When I get panicked like that, I don’t remember much. But the manager was a prick and called the cops like I was trying to vandalize something. And so, here we are.

Yes, here we are. I’m sorry that happened to you. It sounds like they treated you unfairly, but maybe we can make this a positive thing anyway. It never hurts to have a little help. Still going to therapy like you’re supposed to?

Lady, I’ve been going to therapy for twenty-five years. I’m not stopping now.

Oh, well good. Do you think it helps you with your nep…er, your nyctophobia?

No, not really. Because I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m fucked up, don’t get me wrong. I have phobias, anxiety, depression, PTSD. But it’s not fear of the dark that gets me. I’m afraid of what’s in the dark.

Well, yeah, I guess that’s true. It’s really just a fear of the unknown, isn’t it? I remember one time…

No, not the unknown. I know what’s out there.

Oh? What’s that?

You don’t want to know.

You’re wrong, Claire. While these aren’t therapy sessions, I am going to be coming to do monthly visits for the next year. And I’d like to become your friend. You certainly don’t have to share anything with me, but if you want to, please do.

When I was fourteen, I found my mother dead on the kitchen floor.

Oh, I um. I’m so sorry, I um…

She’d come home for lunch, and someone had been waiting. They slit her throat and had her spread out on the floor like she was making a snow angel. That was my first thought when I saw her. Why’s Mom on the ground making a snow angel? Stupid. It doesn’t even snow out here.

But then I saw her eyes. Or where her eyes had been. They’d been cut out. Eyelids too. And pieces of mirror were stuck in there instead. I could see little versions of myself as I started to understand what had happened. I think about that sometimes. Those little versions of me. Like they’re separate. And if they are separate, they were already there before I got there. They knew what was going on. They should have warned me as soon as I came in the room. Told me to turn around or to run.

He was still there. Got me with a rag from behind, and when I woke up, I was in a trunk. It was some big old sedan eaten up with rust—I’ve seen pictures of it, years ago. It honestly looked too crappy for a serial killer, which I guess says more about me than anything else. There was a hole in the trunk lid—it let in a little patch of sunlight as we drove along. Just enough for me to see that my mom was in there with us.

Oh God.

Yeah. I was real scared, but I was also kind of numb, I guess? I cried a bit, tried to wake her up, but I knew she was dead. She’d been dead for hours already. Then I started to dig around in the walls of the trunk. Maybe for a latch or at least some kind of weapon. There was nothing. Nothing but me and her.

When the car stopped, I knew he was coming to get me. I was going to kick him and scream, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. I would be scared and hurt and then I’d be dead, just like her.

But he didn’t come. Nothing happened. After a few hours, I started banging on the lid. Yelling. After awhile, I started worrying less about him coming back and more about dying in that trunk. She was smelling by that point, but then so was I. We were trapped in that dark together, and it was terrible, but at least she was already dead, you know? She didn’t have to be afraid like I was.

We…we don’t have to keep talking about this if you’re uncomfor-

Time gets weird in the dark. They told me later I was in that trunk for three days, parked at the far end of a rest stop where he’d abandoned the car. They never knew why he did that, or even who he was. That was always the part that mattered to them. Catching him. Because they didn’t believe me.

I’d given up, or gone crazy enough in the dark that I didn’t know to keep trying. Either way, I was just sitting there staring when I saw something in that little bit of light that came from the hole in the trunk lid. For days it had been shining on a spot on Mom’s shirt. It was this burgundy shirt she loved to wear for work. But now…it had shifted. She had shifted.

I hadn’t heard anything, or noticed any movement. It was the mirrors that gave it away. They were closer to the hole now, you see. Broken bits of light shining at me in the dark. Seeing me as I saw it. Watching those little pieces of me start to scream as it pushed closer in the dark. Quiet. So terribly quiet. No sound of breathing or movement. Like an eel swimming out of liquid night. Getting closer with shining eyes and a wide, horrible smile.

And then the trunk opened. A janitor had heard me screaming my head off that time, and it all went from there. I went to the hospital, cops came and talked to me. I went to a different kind of hospital, and they came and talked to me again. I got out, lived my life, and now here we are.

Um, yes. Here we are. I…I’m so so sorry that happened to you.

Oh good. Well that makes it better now, doesn’t it? Are we about done?

Yeah…um, yes. Just…you know that what happened in the trunk, it didn’t really happen, right? That was just your mind playing tricks on you. You were in shock. Maybe even dreaming.

That’s what they tell me. Fugue state. Trauma-induced hallucination. Fancy ways of telling me “no” because my version of reality is inconsistent with theirs. With yours.

But it’s just…that’s impossible. They’re right. You were just a poor, traumatized girl seeing things on the worst day of your life. And I can see it still weighs on you. I wish I could carry that burden for you, even for a little while. And I…I’m no expert, but I feel like if you could just see that it’s not real, you’d feel better about things.

Uh-huh. Let me walk you out.

Sure, yeah. I’ll call at the end of the month to set up a time for our next visit. And I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be pushy or nosy. I just find this kind of thing fascinating, and I really do think that…ah.

Fucking blackouts. Give it a second. There we go.

That was fast. Why are the lights in the yard flashing like that?

Oh, the power’s still out. I have a generator. The lights in the yard are set to flash for thirty seconds during a power disruption and then go to a rotating slow pulse until regular power is restored. Supposedly it saves on the power drain to the generator.

They certainly are…bright still.

Yep. Kind of the point. Thanks for coming to visit.

Wait, what’s that?

What’s what?

Those lights out there…I see…when the lights move out across the yard, I can see other things lighting up out there. Do you have reflectors farther out?

No, no reflectors. Just the lights all around the house.

Well…well then, what is it? What’s reflecting out there? There’s so many.

Sounds like you should get going then.

Oh God. When the light went by again…I think they’re moving closer. Let…let me back in please.

Sorry, but I’m not opening the door again. You should go if you can make it to your car.

What is it? What’s out there?

Figments of my imagination. They’ve been coming around from time to time since I got out of that trunk. Since it saw me.

Please. Please open the door.

Not happening, sorry. They like staying out of the light, but I’m not risking an open door now that you’ve got their attention. But you really do need to get out of here. There’s enough light to make it to your car.

No, you just let me back in and…

You did this on purpose. You agreed to meet after dark. Said it was the only time you could do it. You want them to get me.

No, I don’t. And I couldn’t say for sure they’d even come tonight. But maybe they would. And if they did, maybe they’d take an interest in you and leave me alone. I’m so tired of it. Of all of it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time for someone else to carry that burden for awhile.

Better hurry. They're starting to sing.