When the lights suddenly left the living room of my house, I thought nothing of it. The golden flames of the fireplace kept the room lighted and I proceeded to read my book. The old leathery, red cover and its yellow, aged pages crinkling as I turned each page. The lights danced and I calmly kept reading on. The fire sparks and yet the lights have not returned. Every sentence, line, and phrase swirled and twirled in my mind. I lifted my eyes off of the page and stared out onto the window, thinking I needed a rest. The vast window was cloaked in rich darkness from outside. Each beamer from each star doesn't glow nor shine just murk and linger as if it tried to hold onto its last bit of light. The glass glimmered ever so slightly against the flames. I turned my head towards the fireplace that died down a while ago. The room emerged in pure darkness with only the waning moon hazing over. I slowly stood up from my armchair and fumbled around the room. Each step I took made a slight creak. I paused and another creak was heard, but I thought nothing of it.

I calmly searched for the small light switch along the wall; but it seemed hopeless in my obscurity. From then, I thought I should attempt to find a match and wood for the fireplace. Carefully and heedfully, I made my way around a large table and held my hand on to it spreading my fingers across every space. In this darkness, I thought it be horrifying alone in the large empty room but it was strangely calming and serene. Suddenly a chime rang boldly, spreading throughout the room and I remembered the little wooden clock on the mantle above the fireplace. Finally I had reached something feeling like wood and matches. I walked straight out like the ticks and tocks of the clock was calling out to me. The balance of each weight of sound was drawing me closer and closer but I thought nothing of it.

I recalled the big empty space in front of the fireplace and how every step I took, coldness was increasing. I felt my fingers numbing. The wood slipped out of my right hand. The matches slipped out of my left. Still I kept walking like I couldn't stop. Just one foot after another, each step making a creaking noise but the tick-tock was getting louder and louder but I thought nothing of it. My bare feet felt the escaping warmth from the former flame and night's coldness was settling in. Each hair on my body stood as I inched closer and closer but I thought nothing of it. Nothing was there to block my way on the deep wooden floor. When I finally reached the cold, stone fireplace, the darkness in the center was so elusive I reached my hands out like a child. Hands reaching back, old and green, but I was too far in. Slowly, I was encased.

I jolted awake, my book falling to the floor. The lights were still on and the fireplace glowing strong. Still sitting in my armchair and wide eyed, I was awakened from a dream. Still breathing calming, I picked up my book and set it on my lap and opened it once more. But the lights went out and I thought nothing of it.