I hear them every night: the screams. It is always very quiet before they begin. Silence settles upon every single house and shop and person as all await the psychological plague they know is fast approaching. During this silence, it is as if, for a moment, our whole world comes to an ice-cold standstill. Color and feeling and life leave us behind in a dark, horrifying void. And, just when we think it will never end, the sound of hell is released into the streets. In but a moment, the silence which echoes so loudly in the mind is replaced by shrill, pained cries that rip through the air, the mind, and the soul like a knife. I used to…

The darkness. It’s all there is. This deep, endless black that would make a moonless night seem blindingly bright. Never would I have imagined that such a darkness as this could exist. But it does, and now it’s all I know. I stopped searching for the light a long time ago. It’s kind of funny. . . Because I actually thought I knew darkness before. I was wrong. The pain. It’s all I feel. There are many types of pain in this universe. That which accompanies a desperate need to breathe met with a complete lack of oxygen. The sharp sting of a hunger and thirst that will never be satisfied. The dull, icy ache of complete isolated loneliness. Heart-wrenching…

My eyes shoot open as the tapping echoes throughout the room, scanning every inch of my dark bedroom for something that should not be there. Shit. No. No, no. Not now. Every shadow, every dark corner stands out in my mind as my imagination screams horrifying possibilities what could be lurking in the blackness. My entire body tenses. Closing my eyes, I try to force myself to calm down. Just ignore it, I internally whisper to myself. Just ignore it and it will go away. But it doesn’t. Not a minute later, three slow knocks against wood reach my ears. My heart begins to pound as I realize that it was louder this time. It’s getting closer. Now, instead of…