Confession of an achluphobia

“No dad, I am sorry!” Tears streaked down my cheeks mixture of mucus and sweat. I was struggling with my dad, pulling back with my maximum of strength.

“Please don’t put me in the darkroom!” I begged him desperately.

The darkroom is a storeroom, where my father put naughty kids in. a room with no light, no window but full of terror and darkness.

I hug his leg tightly, pulling his shirt with my full force and cried. I was quaking with terror, hoping that father will change his mind.

“Who teach u how to steal?” his voice was seething with anger, I slowly lifted my face and I look at him, trembling with terror. He slapped my face so hard, until I felt a shut down in my mind. I stared at him dumbfounded. I slowly stand up and walk to the room myself. I got no force to fight against him anymore.

In that room, I cannot even see anything. Not even myself. There is only a little shrink of light through the door gaps. That was the only brightness I can see. There are no words to describe my terror and fear. I lay on the floor look at the ceiling. Think of what I have done….

I hate the terror and darkness. The eerie silence and darkness now permeated in my heart