All to yourself

 The night is late, Day has had it's time. The dishes have been washed and the supper has been devoured. You sit in your brightly lit kitchen tired and prepared to enter your bed and be eaten alive by pitch black particles. To lay in bed and depress, worry and stress. Then you turn to your side and expect to see your parents giving you an assuring smile and a beautiful sense of security. But no. All you see is the dark that makes you turn away so you don't have to face the fear that clearly exists. You then face the wall with a fright of the malformed face of fear   merging up from the dark and its cold bony hand with long black fingernails cutting your cheeks and the hand wet with blood from another's dreams. It tells you that the sun will never rise, that your parents have no wish to awake. You turn and face fear's monstrous, melancholy, malformed face. You stare into fear's black eyes and your eyes report to your brain of the beast it has seen. You look intensely at it with no sign of fright and it does nothing. What can it do? It merges into the black particles and you close your eyes tight because you have been faced with fear and fear is nothing without fright.