Awakened by Darkness

I remember this time my family moved for the second time in three months. I remember it vividly because I had never been to that part of Goose Creek before. It was late at night when I went on my first unloading trip to the house. I was tired, but I remember it well.

It began with the normal drive down Redbank Rd toward the Naval Base, but when the trip called for a left turn onto what I think is now Henry E. Brown Jr. Pkwy, I woke up from my slumber in my dad's truck and scanned what I could in the night. The road allowed no light to illuminate it; the pavement seemed to be winning against the headlights. The forest seemed to ward off any other travelers. It felt like the night chose this particular road for our travels that night. All I could see were the drainage ditches on the side of the road. The light seemed to jump from the headlights, not touch the road at all, and fall into the ditches. My window was open, and the wind eerily whistled in my ear, but my hair protected my scalp from its bite. I looked at the sky through the windshield. Either blemishes on the glass got in the stars' way or the moon had barred them from inhabiting the sky that night. All I saw was the moon as the truck rumbled on.

At the intersection at the end, another left turn was taken. My first glance eased my worry. In the distance, the traffic light offered some relief in the darkness. It was red when the road angled. I looked around and saw more trees. The road widened out and gave more separation between the forest and me. I was a little glad for the road's help. The forest was no longer hidden behind its friend Darkness. Upon reaching the traffic light, it gave us a green light. To me, it was more like a thumbs-up telling me that I was going to be all right. We passed the light and Darkness overtook us once again. This time, I was not afraid. I had seen hope in the form of an urban nuisance. My enemy was no longer hidden from my awareness. The road went on, and I faintly saw house watch with their transparent eyes the truck pass them. To my relief, they were in limited company with the forest. Furthermore, their increasing presence was a sign of only one thing: civilization.

I would travel down Liberty Hall Rd several times that night, and my body would punish me the next day. Fortunately, my tormentors in darkness were a lot friendlier in the presence of Light. However, I knew I would be traveling down a dark road again with no expectation of returning. After that move, I only really wondered about one thing. Would Darkness awaken me again that next time?

And the beat goes on...

B