10/20 Auto-Monophobia

It’s not the shadows. Shadows hold form. The real terror is the absence. The physical, heavy silence that sits beside you in the empty house, pressing down on your shoulders. It’s when the familiar creaks of the floorboards stop being comforting and start sounding like deliberate, stalking steps. When the silence gets so loud it rings, and you realize that nothing in the universe is there to stop anything from taking you. It's not a concept. It’s the visceral, cold understanding that when the light goes out, you are the only meat in the room, and something—just beyond the mirror, just within the walls—is absolutely ravenous for your company.