She never really had a problem with the dark that is up until she was thirteen It was only then the voice and hands so similar to that of the man she called daddy,appeared. Wreaking havoc and disturbing her sleep it was at that tender age calloused hands stealthily sneaked up her sheets,stifling her screams and subduing her writhing body her protests it seems,were unwelcome Not to mention unheard and as if not enough absurd one night before her real life nightmare began in walked her disgruntled mother with a belt in hand and for several miuntes rained blows while spitting venom laced words "I will not lose my husband jus cause you can't do what you're told" left broken and bruised and with the knowledge she'd later on be used she sat with her lights on,'til heavy footfalls down the hall let her know it was time, followed by the sickening sound of a zipper as it slides and then *click* off go the lights. Now that I know i wish i'd never asked why she is so terrified of the dark.