Your older brother flicks off the light and you are cast into perpetual darkness. Snuggling lower into your covers is the only form of defense you have against the blackness that surrounds you. Asking to sleep with your bro would be weak. He's taught you to stand up for yourself and to fight through any sort of obstacle that stands in your way. But he did not prepare you for fear. Plain fear. This isn't something you can physically push or beat or kill. This is nothingness that closes in on you without any contact. The realness of the matter is that you-- David Strider, age 8-- are afraid of the dark.
A noise hits your ear and you flick your eyes towards the closet. There is something in there, you are sure. Your mind spins frantic images of the possible monsters that could be lurking behind toys and clothes and boxes. A catalogue of gouls whose only purpose are to scare you until your heart stops beating. A list of creatures that crawl and slither and secrete a sticky mucous that could bind you to the wall. A million skinny legs, tickling you as you are spun into a web-- a coffin. You learned about spiders and now you are sure a giant one is under your bed right now, or in the dark corner of the ceiling. She will tenderly bite your neck, you will pass out, and the next thing you know, your insides are liquid and she is drinking you like a human smoothy.
That's it. There is no use trying to sleep tonight when you are surrounded by so many enemies. Everything wants you dead. You can't find your voice and even if you could, you wouldn't want to show your bro that you are weak. He would tell you to figure out how to help yourself. He's your teacher, not your protector. You suck it up and throw the covers back. Looking around, you put a tentative toe to the floor. Nothing bites at your ankles from under the bed. Maybe the werewolf is asleep right now. You book it to the window, pull the rope down and the clatter of the blinds almost scare you, but the city lights illuminate your room, nicely.
You make a quick scan of the room and sigh in relief. There is nothing here that can hurt you-- save for a few smuppets. They are most likely asleep.
Creeping back to your bed with more confidence and an intense need for some shut-eye, you lay down, snuggle into your warm bed and promptly pass out.
This is the way you sleep for the next 5 years.