Fear of Light
She spent eternity and no time locked in a blackened box. It was a room, dark enough that she could not see her hands inches from her face. Every now and then, she heard the creaking of a door but couldn't see light. Someone delivering food and drink, which she would find after clumsily feeling the ground. Mostly ice cold water and hard bread, sometimes cold chicken on the bone and apple juice, or stale cereal and warm milk. She felt what she thought was every inch of the walls and could not find a door. Just cold bumpy stone. It defied logic, blew her mind. The absence of light. It had been so long, and no time at all, that she didn't know if her eyes still worked. Perhaps the room was well lit, a white intensity that left nothing obscured, but she was completely blind.
An eternity and no time ago, she was walking to her car. She had left a mall, tennis shoes and a phone battery her new purchases, and was walking in the parking lot. Hands grabbed her from behind, rendered her arms useless, gagged her mouth, blindfolded her. The last thing she saw was a pair of trees, their limbs sagging, leaves bent down in weeping pose. She remembered being in a trunk, then passing out, her heart hammering as she went under. She wasn't raped, as far as she knew, and they hadn't asked any questions, or said anything.
In her mind, she remembered what light used to be. Rays of sunlight filtered through tree leaves and coming through her window into her childhood bedroom that was her sanctuary. The warm press of summer sun, the boundless landscapes of youth, the light reflecting off neighborhood houses, illuminating water, kissing her skin. Sunset, the sky growing orange, purple, then black as the day disappeared.
As a child, she had a phase, like most other children, when she was afraid of the dark. There was no limit to what could be lurking in the dark: the dead, ghosts, demons. Why did the house creak. Did she hear footsteps. Why did it feel like someone was standing next to her bed. But it was always nothing. Dark would always be followed by light.
An eternity and no time later, she heard voices. She pressed her ear against the wall, and a faint male voice was calling, is there anyone in there? She screamed, yes, yes, please, I'm in here. The voice said, we hear you, step away from the wall and cover your eyes. She moved to the corner and used her arm to cover her eyes as she leaned against the wall.
There was an explosion, and her skin was pelted with pebbles and dust. A voice said, you're okay now. She knew there was light around her now. But what if she couldn't see it. As gentle hands touched her, she stood rigid, for eternity and no time, afraid of the light.