NYCTOPHILIA

Chapter 1: The Serene Enfolding

**Chapter 1: The Serene Enfolding**

Amie sat on the edge of her bed, the soft glow of a single candle flickering against the walls of her small room. The rest of the house was bathed in darkness, just as she liked it. The light was too harsh, too revealing. But in the darkness, she felt a sense of comfort, as if the world couldn’t touch her here.

The room was sparse, almost bare, with only a bed, a worn-out dresser, and a chair by the window. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out any trace of the outside world. She preferred it this way—an isolation that matched the emptiness inside her.

Amie often wondered if something was wrong with her. She knew she should be like the other kids at school, laughing and joking, but the effort felt exhausting. Instead, she found herself slipping further into the shadows, into a place where the noise of the world couldn’t reach her. Her mother and her relatives tried to help, but their words of encouragement and their forced smiles only made her retreat deeper into herself. They didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—the weight that seemed to press down on her, a suffocating blanket that she couldn’t shake off.

Amie had never understood why the darkness called to her so strongly. It had been this way for as long as she could remember. Even as a child, while other kids played in the sun, she would find solace in the shadows, hiding away in dark corners or under her bed, where the light couldn’t reach her.

As she grew older, that feeling only intensified. The world outside felt overwhelming—its colors too bright, its sounds too loud. It all seemed like too much to bear. So, she retreated further into herself, into the darkness that had become her closest companion.

It wasn’t that she disliked people. In fact, there was a time when she longed for connection, for someone to see her, to understand the storm that raged inside her. But every time she tried to reach out, it felt like she was speaking a language no one else understood. The more she tried to explain the emptiness, the more isolated she felt. So, she stopped trying.

The darkness didn’t ask anything of her. It didn’t expect her to be happy, or successful, or even okay. It just was. And that was enough for Amie.

As she stared at the flickering candle, she could feel the familiar weight pressing down on her chest. It was like a heavy blanket, smothering her thoughts, her emotions, until all that was left was a dull, aching numbness. She welcomed it, in a way. The numbness was better than the pain, better than the endless cycle of hope and disappointment.

The candle’s flame danced, casting long shadows on the walls. Amie watched it, mesmerized, her thoughts drifting in and out of focus. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt truly alive, felt something other than this oppressive emptiness. It was as if she was a ghost, wandering through her own life, unable to touch or be touched by anything or anyone. The only friend she have right now was her phone where she listens music, watch videos and reads stories. Her phone was the only thing that knows how her feelings and emotions changes everytime.

A loud knock on her door broke the silence. Amie move out from her bed and acknowledge it. She knew it was her mother, probably to check her and invite her for dinner. Amie didn’t want to talk and didn’t want to pretend. She just wanted to be left alone with her darkness but she needs to open the door to pretend that she is alright and be a good daughter.

As she twist the doorknob, the door creaked open, and a sliver of light from the hallway spilled into the room. “Amie?” her mother’s voice was not that soft because her mother was not soft spoken. “Let's eat, stop hiding in your room, you're face is always on your phone! stop it, it is not good for yourself!” her mother complaints with a slight irritation on her voice.

Amie just show her fake smile and showing a tired restless face. “Alright,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. It looks like she doesn't have the desire to talk.

There was a pause, a heavy silence that hung between them. Amie could feel her mother’s concern through her eyes, could almost hear the unspoken words, the worry and helplessness that had become so familiar. Her mother let out a heavy sigh. Amie didn't want to see it. she feel irritated with it. Sometimes, Amie don't like to be treated that way. Amie’s mom was not a perfect mother sometimes she makes Amie’s life miserable but she still cared for Amie and make Amie feel loved. Though, Amie was refusing it all.

“Faster, the food is waiting!” her mother broke the seconds of silence. After saying that word, she walks away from her room and went to the kitchen. Amie followed her. They eat in silence. Amie didn't want to talk. Her mother always glance at her, she wants to talk to her. But it seems like Amie doesn't want to talk to her.

Amie have some grudge feeling to her mother. There are things that she wants to clarify to her mother but she choose not to ask about it because she avoid hearing truthful words that could hurt herself again. For now, she just want to be alone and be deluded by her thoughts.

After they ate dinner, Aimie walk back to her room. She will go back again to her comfort zone. When she faced the door of her room she felt such a little bit of excitement. She took deep breath and open the door and whispered. "welcome back, finally" as she entered her room.

She closed the door softly, and the darkness swallowed the room once again. Amie let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, feeling the weight settle back into place. The encounter had drained what little energy she had left, leaving her feeling even more hollow than before. She walks into her bed and lay down on it. Now, she felt contentment and satisfaction. She smiled a little while looking at the ceiling.

She glanced at the candle, the flame now smaller, struggling to stay lit. A part of her wanted to blow it out, to let the darkness take over completely. But something held her back, a tiny sliver of resistance that she couldn’t quite understand.

With a sigh, she lay back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The shadows above seemed to shift and move, forming shapes that danced just out of reach. She imagined they were like her thoughts, always just beyond her grasp, slipping away whenever she tried to hold onto them.

As sleep began to pull her under, Amie’s last thought was of the darkness, the one constant in her life. It was her only comfort, the only thing that understood her. And in its serene enfolding, she could finally let go, if only for a little while.

As Amie drifted off to sleep, something different happened. In the midst of the darkness, a soft, golden light began to glow in the distance. It was faint at first, barely noticeable against the overwhelming blackness, but it grew stronger, warmer, as if it was beckoning her.

Curious and desperate for a way out, Amie followed the light. As she drew closer, she saw a figure standing at the center of the glow—a young man, his face kind and gentle, with eyes that shone like stars. He was dressed in simple clothes, but there was something about him that radiated strength and reassurance.

"Who are you?" Amie asked, her voice trembling with both hope and fear.

The young man smiled, extending his hand toward her. "My name is....." she didn't heard the name clearly, "I've been waiting for you, Amie."

She hesitated for a moment, but something in his eyes told her that he was different from the shadows that haunted her dreams. Tentatively, she reached out and took his hand. The moment their fingers touched, the darkness around them recoiled, as if it feared his presence.

"I can help you escape this darkness," the guy said, his voice calm and steady. "But you must trust me."

Aimie nodded, her grip on his hand tightening as the shadows began to close in once more. Together, they began to walk, the guy leading the way with his light cutting through the dark like a beacon. The shadows hissed and writhed, but they dared not come too close.

As they journeyed through the dreamscape, the guy spoke to Aimie, his voice a soothing melody in the night. He told her of the strength she carried within her, a light that had been dimmed by fear and doubt but had never truly gone out. He reminded her of the love and warmth that awaited her in the waking world, of the friends and family who believed in her even when she couldn't believe in herself.

With every step, Aimie felt the darkness weaken, its hold on her heart loosening. The weight that had pressed on her chest for so long began to lift, replaced by a sense of peace she hadn't felt in years.

Finally, they reached the edge of the dreamscape, where the darkness gave way to a vast, open sky filled with stars. the guy turned to her, his eyes reflecting the starlight.

"This is where I must leave you," he said softly. "But remember, Aimie, the darkness has no power over you. You are stronger than you know."

Ainie felt a pang of sadness, but she knew he was right. She had faced her fears and found the strength to overcome them. She no longer needed to run from the darkness.

"Thank you! " she whispered, tears of gratitude glistening in her eyes.

The guy smiled at her and, with a final nod, began to fade into the light. "We'll meet again, Aimie. Until then, be brave."

As he disappeared, the dreamscape around Amie dissolved, and she found herself waking up in her bed, the first rays of dawn filtering through her window. For the first time in what felt like forever, she woke up with a sense of calm and hope.

The faint light of dawn seeping through the curtains. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the wind against the window. She blinked, groggy and disoriented, her mind still caught between the remnants of a dream and the reality of waking. As she turned over, the familiar comfort of her childhood bed enveloped her, but there was something else—an unexpected scent in the air.

It was the unmistakable aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the sweet, warm scent of pancakes. For a moment, Amie thought she must still be dreaming. But the smell was so vivid, so real, that it drew her fully awake.

Amie sat up slowly, her heart beginning to race. The house had been so quiet a few months ago. She lived alone, with a gaping hole in her life from the loss of someone dear, one that she couldn’t seem to fill no matter how hard she tried.

But today, something was different.

As she slipped out of bed, the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, a sound that echoed in the stillness of the house. Amie hesitated at the doorway, her mind grappling with the impossibility of what she was experiencing, but a part of her still wanted to go to the kitchen and check.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she was surprised by what she saw. Her breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't speak.