An Essay I Have Become Particularly Found Of

Surviving the Darkness: The Haunting Unknown

Brightness and laughter began the transformation to darkened countenances and refrained yawns as the day slowly drew to an end. My world began the incurable change into a pumpkin as the midnight hour approached, and walking home was eminent. I dreaded the idea of walking home alone, even if it was for such a short distance. What could be out there? I grabbed my shoes, opened the door, and began what I was sure would be the last time I would have the opportunity to journey into the darkness. 

The mind is a cruel thing; it’s the reason we fear the unknown. It produces, directs and stars in the horror movie that comes uncontrollably rushing into our minds with the first few steps into the darkness. To control the mind is the greatest gift one could possess: the ability to push aside thoughts of an irrational nature is what all seek.

The unusually warm air was a subtle luring to journey into the darkness that had already consumed the streets. The welcoming warmth cradled me, much like the mother with her newborn infant. The calming arms forbade me from hurrying home. Being wrapped so tightly I had no desire to escape the protective embrace. I breathed in, relishing the calm that filled my lungs. I won’t hurry home, I thought to myself, nights as beautiful as this don’t come around often. The leisurely strides began. A night as rare as this deserves it’s own soundtrack. My footsteps livened as I began to dance along to my own tune which permeated the air. 

The emptiness of the streets vanished. I was soon joined by the company of background dancers I could see very clearly in my head; this walk had become a full out production. I was no longer the star of a one man play, and no longer the night’s rejected castaway. The echo of my steps couldn’t be heard over the joyful tune bursting from my lungs. Had I taken control of my own thoughts? Did I master the ultimate feat?

Then, without a moment to prepare, the joyful tune vanished, replaced by an eery silence. Did I hear something in the bushes? My heart began preparing for the dramatic getaway that seemed all too undeniable. The stage fright filled every fiber of my being, my legs were no longer joyfully turning--I now had an audience. Did I dare look to see who it was? It’s nothing, I told myself thinking look, and prove it to yourself as I slowly lifted my gaze to the hill beside me. 

As quickly as the fear entered, it vanished as I let out a muffled laugh. It was just a deer. Wow, Saydee, you’re such an idiot. So once again the production began. Just as the opening line was uttered, the world became an incomprehensible blur as my feet began moving faster than my brain could keep up. Why am I running?! My brained screamed. My feet refused to respond. My mind painted pictures of hatchets and chainsaws raised to the sky coming directly towards me. I looked back, the reality of the situation--while different from what I had envisioned--was just as cruel. This buck was charging something: charging me. My entire body became a chorus echoing a frantic RUN! I was almost home. Just feet away. I could make it. Faster than my limbs previously knew to be possible, I made it to my stairs. Our high-speed chase still in hot pursuit. What did I do? I wondered. Surely I couldn’t have done anything to anger the creature, unless it was severely opposed to my choice in song. 

Bambi had become the enemy. Fighting was futile. The only chance of survival was through my escape. I pushed with all I had as I quickly went from one stair to the next. These stairs are longer than I thought, my mind was beginning to crack. I just had to make it to the door.

Victory had never before been celebrated as joyfully and enthusiastically as it was the moment my door slammed shut. The billions of cells in my body let out sighs of relief--they all made it safely home. It had been a close battle. Fear was replaced by fatigue as their injuries from exertion had to be treated and cared for. My heart, the great general, continued pumping the necessary care for those great soldiers. My mind, whom had been the trusted defense, was now branded a traitor. It delivered false information, helped the enemy across our lines, feigned ignorance; this allowed it to crumble, and gained it no more merit than jeopardizing our safety. I had failed to gain control, for as we only exist in our own minds, I fell prey to to this elusive essence: the conscious which I call my own, but owns me all the same. It’s coercion is found not only in creating images haunting the darkness, but in concealing the true dangers to our mortality.

I had focused too intently on the flashy images my mind created in it’s attempt to conceal the warning signs that I was trespassing on the sanctuary of a deer--highly agitated and ready to fight. The dangers flashed quickly and in fine print, while the images on my screen showed a very different message, which did not allude to the danger of my circumstances. My conscious was a diabolical threat, a foe I was underprepared to combat. I prevailed over the Goliath of my anxiety; because now as then, the wit of David does not fail. My victory was found by exploiting its one weakness: the unconscious. For as we continue to coexist, in this mind that none of us can fully claim, what fights against me will always thrive for my survival. For it overpowered even its own deceptive qualities.