The darkness enveloped and surrounded Sanford. The initial first three moments were not so bad, until the realization set in that the lights were not going to magically restore themselves. From that moment on, the brunet glanced around fruitlessly, hoping that his eyes would adjust and compensate for the lack of light. Nothing happened. The doorway was entirely blocked, every ounce of light stifled. The oldness and location of the bathroom meant that there was no redemption to be found with the presence of windows.
Sanford’s imagination filled in the blanks. Normally, his dreams were colored with a warm, golden light. Everything was bathed in sparkling sand. Unicorns and fish, dinosaurs and dancers; these things floated and gloated, spreading joy and adventure in Sanford’s mind.
Only this time was different.
Crumbling dust of the earth settling was transformed into movement of dark demons. Unicorns became hellhounds, intent to sniff out and destroy him with their black, rabid mouths. The bathroom was tainted and tarnished in the absense of light and his very life depended on escaping the fiends. Each dark spindle began to pulse and mutiply, some even growing terrifying maws full of thin needle-like teeth, opening their jaws and preparing to attack just out of Sanford’s reach. In the margins of darkness, in those pockets of silence sat Sanford’s deepest, darkest fear.
“H-hello? Hello?” Sanford heard, though the voice sounded full of fright, it somehow served to ground him. At least he was not alone.
“I’m here! I glow! Come to me if you can… Who else is here?” Another voice sounded, tearing away that grounding and serving him with the knwledge that he could not answer that call. His eyes found the slight glow that the second voice was speaking of. It was in the form a dress, though it lent no light to the area around it. It was as if the dress was an exception to the vortex of darkness.
Sanford pushed himself up, glass crunching beneath his palms. Unseen tears made trails down his paniked face. The brunet opened his mouth, attempting to say something, anything. This was the time when his selective mutism needed to be just that – selective. Only nothing came out. Just more silence. Serving to cause Sanford to wonder if he existed at all. Sanford’s heart rate picked up, droning in his ears, as he swept his hands across the floor, hoping to make some noise to alert the girls to his presence.
germansingergirl
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
janainaart
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snowghoul
