Stockholm Syndrome: Be Mine

Back when I was little, I would not go out in the dark.
I just wouldn't. The darkness literally scared the crap right out of me, but that doesn't need to be brought up.

The point is, now I loved the dark. To prove this statement, was the fact that I was currently floating on my back in the pool, staring at the stars.

Last summer, it had become a ritual of mine to venture out into our backyard, shed my clothes, and just go for a midnight swim. Unknown to my parents, of course. Ever since then, it kind of just stuck. Which was why I was here, swimming... Naked.

I loved the night now, how it seemed endless. How it seemed at night, everything was more plausible. I dove under the water looking down at the black bottom. I couldn't see a thing, which was 1 part scary, 2 parts enthralling.

When I resurfaced, I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the evening. Owls crowing, wolves howling, crickets-

Stop.

There it was, a distinct rustle in the bushes just 5 feet away from me. I froze, half expecting a wolf or some hungry creature to jump out and devour me whole. But of course, that didn't happen.

I made myself wait 10 minutes before I slowly got out, wrapped myself in a towel, grabbed my clothes, and sprinted back to my house.

Carefully, I slipped through the open window to my room (I popped out the screen years ago) and grabbed a towel for my hair. I was still a little shaken, though. Naturally, I was a pretty paranoid person, so things like that just sent me over the edge.

After putting a baggy shirt on and a pair of underwear, I grabbed a brush and began to comb through my pastel hair. I had always been crazy about unnatural hair colors, and a few weeks ago my mom let me dye it a mish-mash of colors. It was awesome.

I read for about 30 minutes before exhausted took over, and I fell asleep.

Little did I know that I wasn't alone that night.