It descends like a blanket, enfolding and enveloping me, the darkness. It fills my room, turning the familiarity of my sanctum into a strange place, full of mysteries bathed in shadow. I draw the blankets up around me, hoping they will provide protection from whatever creatures lurk in the corners, behind the…things.

I focus my eyes on the light, the small, glowing night light in the corner or the room. I know it’s designed to reassure more than illuminate, but I open my eyes wide and will the weak rays I know it emits into my eyes. I imagine them spreading out and reflecting around the room. In my mind’s eye I see them war with the shadows, driving them back, warding off the creatures that lurk within. I imagine the hidden beasts shielding their eyes, turning away in pain as the light sears them. It burns, I imagine, and they slink off looking for easier prey. Perhaps tonight they’ll feed on my sister, for I know that she’s foolish enough to sleep in perfect darkness. I imagine that she’s easy picking for the things of the night.

I am safe, I am secure, and nothing can harm me now. Not while my light shines, not while I remain vigilant and will it to fill the room.

I feel my eyes become heavy, but I trust to the light, I trust it to keep me safe and watch over me while I sleep. I have used my eyes to expand its glow to fill the room, nothing can touch me now.

As I drift off to sleep, I am dimly aware of a feint scratching sound from the other side of the room.

The light goes out.

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Ian Sharman
Ian is a freelance writer and artist. He founded Orang Utan Comics Studio with Peter Rogers in 2006, writes for their Eagle Award Nominated anthology Eleventh Hour and regularly inks for Panini’s Marvel Heroes comic.
Ian Sharman

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