text: “Did you miss me?” a feminine voice came from the corner of my room. Where the light from my lamp once illuminated was now covered in darkness - a blanket of nothingness in my peripheral vision. I couldn’t quite look over there. My head didn’t want to turn in that direction. I wasn’t planning on this happening any time soon. I knew I was safe in the light. However, the darkness tends to find a way to slip in, in order to disillusion us. It wants us to turn away from our candles and light bulbs, filling our heads with the false presumption that the light is a lie - that it’s only something that covers up the inevitable darkness. I don’t give in to the night. Not even the darkness of sleep can grasp me, as the void is something that we don’t experience. We slip from waking life into the dreaming life, and back again. Again, and again. It’s said that nature abhors a vacuum. Life avoids the blackness. It seeks the light. &nbsp; The dark is still there to lure us, however. &nbsp; “I’ve been waiting, you know,” the voice soothed itself into my room. It’s a pleasant sound - one that has visited me many times before. “Why do you resent me? I only think of you, you know.” She doesn’t know me. No - it’s not even a she. It’s not like me, nor is it like any of us here. It is truly void of light, possessive and tormenting. I get up from my bed to light another candle - one with scent that the love of my life has given me. “Do you really think she loves you?” the voice says. “She only gave you that to keep you away from me. I’m the only one who can care for you. I’m the only one who loves you.” &nbsp; “Shut up,” I respond, not thinking. Now, I’ve fed into it. The voice sighs, and the darkness pulsates. “I knew you’d talk to me eventually,” the voice says. I grab the nearest object, which happened to be an unlit candle, and chucked it into the corner of my room. The candle soared into the darkness and I did not hear it collide with the wall. The dark corner spread more across the floor and walls. I punch my dresser for allowing myself to get so involved in any conversation with it. “Damn it.” I stomp my way to my door, and move to leave into the hallway. But I find that I can’t reach the door knob. Looking down, it had all lost color and then the door was lost in a blackness. I step back and see the black color had spread from the corner across the wall and covered my doorway. “Go on,” the voice said, “Step in. We can be together forever.” I tremble and stay where I am. “I will have you,” it says. &nbsp; I turn around and look to where the light still hits my room. “Do you really think you can avoid me forever?” the voice shakes through my body, and the light flickers, “I have waited for so long. Even if you do shake me off, I’ll just keep coming back. You’re getting weaker.” The light started to fade, and out of instinct, I turned to the scented candle. The darkness was oozing out, and slowly latching onto it. “Maybe even now I can break you,” it spread further. I leaped for it and held it to the floor, covering it with my torso. The voice scoffed. “Please,” I felt the darkness touching my skin on the floor - cold and stiff, despite looking so fluid. “You’re hopeless. Just give in to me.” The heat from the candle was getting to my chest, and I knew it could start to burn. “This is it,” the voice said, growing excited, “This is the night you come with me.” I tightened my position and braced myself. With a quick glance I saw the other candles and lamps fading away. The floor disappeared beneath me, and soon, there was only me and the candle. The dark infection spread up my arms, and down my back. It clung to my head and stuck itself to my feet. Soon I was freezing and I tightened my eyes in response. “Big mistake,” the voice giggled, “The darkness within you is where I can spread too. That’s where I can emanate. That’s where I can spread.” And the truth of its words became reality, as I heard the voice within my head and the icy feeling entered my lungs - crawled under my skin and froze my bones. &nbsp; I couldn’t believe I gave in so much. I couldn’t believe I continued to give in. Why did I always attend to the darkness rather than what was before me? &nbsp; What was before me? &nbsp; I was able to open one lid, just enough, to find there was still something before me - the candle. The realization made me exhale, and notice the heat against my chest. There was no darkness within me - the voice was wrong. There’s still sight when I close my eyes. The inside of my skull may be cold and dark, but there’s a reason why that’s not a reality for me. There’s a reason why consciousness prevails. The reason why is something I don’t quite know yet. All I knew was I was able to open and eye - I was able to resist the dark. This candle was surviving. I could feel the heat. I had moved to keep this light alive, and I was. &nbsp; “You’re just a thought,” I whispered. &nbsp; I opened another eye to focus on the flickering candle light. &nbsp; “What did you say?” the voice shook. &nbsp; I didn’t offer it a response. I wouldn’t give into it again. I smiled at the light, and spoke to it instead. “I’m sorry I don’t talk to you as much,” I said to it, and it grew brighter. With its push of bright aura, my insides felt warm again, and I could see my floor. I then realized that many say darkness is the basis of all things - and maybe they have a point. But we are immune from it. In fact, the darkness is only a thought - a concept. The truth is light. The truth is awareness. That’s what deserves our attention. I pushed myself up, as the flame got bigger. “I get it now.” “No,” the voice said, much quieter, “You don’t get anything. We belong together. Don’t leave me.” I picked up the candle as I got to my feet. “I’ve decided,” I said, into the light, “I’ve decided to allow myself to live. I will allow myself the thoughts I want to think.” &nbsp; Then, in an instant, my room was visible again. I felt like myself, and the candle in my hand held a steady flame. I set it on my shelf and considered it for a while. I nodded my head and took a breath. Then, I blew out the candle. I proceeded to turn off my lamps, and the room was dark. &nbsp; But not all lights had been turned off. &nbsp; I crawled into bed and shut my eyes. &nbsp; The next thing I allowed myself was rest.