I jerk awake suddenly. I don’t know why I’m awake. My room is just as dark, just as silent. I settle back amongst my new sheets, in colours ranging from plum to violet to aqua. I close my eyes willing sleep to return. But now that I’m awake every noise hits me like a gun shot. A floor board creaks and I think it’s a burglar, plastic bag on my floor moves slightly from a draught under my door; someone’s in my room, a new pressure on my bed, I bolt upright, there’s nothing there, from what I can tell in the dim light.

Slowly I rise from my bed, slowly and quietly opening my door. Toes knocking against junk in the hall way, but I’m so used to my house being a disaster area that I don’t trip, even know when to lift my feet. I peek in my mum’s room, she’s sleeping peacefully, I can see both my cats lying at the foot of her bed. I glare at the traitorous feline before going to the bathroom.

When opening the bathroom door, you have to do it fast, something my paranoid mind comes up with; if there’s anyone there they’d know your out of your room by now. Glance towards my room, turn right to mums, turn left and look at the black abyss of the dinning room. The shutters were closed, not allowing any light from the street lights like all the other rooms. I stalk through the room, entering the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it was quiet. Unnatural at any other time, but night is special isn’t it? Everything changes at night.

Everything’s silent, light becomes dark, sometimes it’s peaceful other times, it’s evil. You never know what that darkness is concealing. I reach for a glass off the shelf, moving towards the fridge. The little yellow light flicks on, making the silvery almost morbid kitchen light up with its golden glow; the warm colour reflecting off glasses, plates and bowels. Milk or juice? A decision that can be near impossible to make this late, or this early perhaps. Apparently I want juice as my arm reaches for it. I gulp the glass full down in four gulps, placing the glass on the counter and moving into the living room.

My mother had reasonably taken everything we had out off storage, and decided to dump it in the family room. Daunting shapes loomed over furniture now. I look towards the laundry door. Then towards the back door. We hadn’t been able to close our backdoor, for years, about five I think. Anyone can get into our house. I lean against the door frame, and peer out at the garden. It all seemed so mysterious. Day time made it lively, but yet again night changed that. I could see spiders curled up in the corer of their webs which glittered in the moon light. I hate spiders. But at night, in the garden, they don’t seem half bad. At least they can sleep. I turn away, but not without a glance at all rooftops in viewing range. A habit I’ve had since before I can remember. I probably did it to make myself feel special, as if someone went to extreme measures to watch me. Like anyone would want to look at me.

I pull my satin shirt closer to me, goose bumps forming on my early bare legs. Not sure if these shorts weren’t considered underwear. I walk back to my room; always glancing over my shoulder. Night time made me edgy. Being alone made me edgy. I walk past my mums room again, nothing had changed. I enter my room, closing the door and looking around my room. Checking all spaces big enough to hide a person. I hope it’s not just my mind that gets this paranoid, I hope other fifteen year olds are still afraid of the dark. Maybe afraid isn’t the word for it.

I slide back into my bed, laying my head down again. I curl into myself. Allowing my eyes to drift closed.

Morning should be here soon, everything won’t be as scary or mysterious or quiet, definitely not quiet. The sun would shine and it’ll be a new day to feel self loathing that most teenagers feel. Angst will reign on, and then the darkness will come again, and even though that’s the proper angsting scene, it won’t be used, it’s not meant to be.

Unlike the day, night is untameable, you can’t see around the corners and you never know what will happen. Not till it’s too late and you wake up.