He Never Came

I lay there silently, slowly blinking my eyes, trying to fix my vision. Nothing changes. Pushing my blankets back, I sit up and try to look around, but still see nothing. I know I am awake, so why is everything so dark? The nightlight. We turned it on before we went to bed. Who turned it off and why? I call for my dad. No answer.

Slowly, I get out of bed, trying not to wake my sister, sleeping at the other end. My feet hit the ground with a soft thud as I lose my footing. I bend down on my hands and knees and crawl to where I know the nightlight is.

I begin to get scared. The darkness frightens me. I can’t see a thing and feel around blindly. Tears fall down my face as I start to cry, calling for my father. Still, there is no answer.

My hand reaches the wall and travels along it until I find the nightlight. I flip the switch and nothing happens. I flip it again and get the same result. The bulb blew. No one turned it off.

Sobbing, I continue to call for my dad. “Daddy, daddy”, I call, over and over, as I lay on the ground, terrified. I’m crying harder and harder as I keep calling. Laying there I the endless darkness, I have never felt so alone.

I muster up what strength I have and move toward where the door is supposed to be. I find it and search for the doorknob. I can’t find it. Tears are flooding down my face. Desperately, I run my hand up and down, like a mad woman, searching for it.

Metal. A hard, round, metal ball. The doorknob. Still crying, but relieved, I open the door. I walk down the hallway to the top of the stairs. I call “Daddy, daddy” until he hears me. I say the light bulb blew out. He tells me he’ll come and fix it, now go to bed.

I walk back as slowly as possible. Stumbling, I get back into bed and cry myself to sleep. I wake up the next morning. The nightlight is off. My sister must have turned it off when she left the room. I flip the switch and nothing changes. The bulb is still blown. He never came.