Basements

As kids, those of us with basements - especially the unfinished ones - absolutely had monsters living in the darker parts.

It wasn’t like we ever saw them except when the light hit a corner just so or something moved,

But the feeling of dread that something was there, beyond the light, just paces behind you -

That shit was so real.

Fear won out every time, no matter how prepared we were for those imperceptible eyes on our backs.

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Inviting people over meant that you had no choice but to be brave -

It was your duty to turn off the light and push your legs through that terror so your friends were undoubtedly safe.

No doubt an annoying byproduct of Xenia or some other form of misplaced chivalry we did not ask to inherit from our parents.

Because our monsters,

They only came out when you were turning out the light to crash upstairs after company,

Grabbing at your ankles with invisible hands,

Just barely missing you,

Breathing down your neck,

Safe to prowl and menace behind your shoulders where the dark places were.

And the feeling of relief from besting them, from running fast enough to beat the darkness - that shit made it feel like you were a godamn hero.

Something about letting your friends go first while you bravely fended off whatever lived in the Stygian darkness behind you felt so noble.

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Nowadays, the darkness is still ever present, but the monsters inhabiting it are not mere shadows in our minds -

They exist in the light, they make television appearances, they hold rallies, they make laws, they start their own networks, they share their own version of objective reality on said networks, they abuse us and call it love, they target the vulnerable and call them monsters, they turn us against each other by convincing us that our differences make us dangerous.

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Therefore, making sure that our friends have made it to safety - sometimes at the expense of our own - is not simply a test in physical strength or a momentary sting of bravery and heroism, but something much bigger and more meaningful.

Xenia, empathy, compassion, love, loyalty, activism -

Whatever you call it, however you spin it,

Our duty is to shield our friends from the darkness threatening to devour them, to hold back the storm of hate with the strength our backs have learned from facing the scary things behind us, to show the monsters lurking that we will always stand against them.

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Because, when the light goes off,

And we feel that familiar prickling of awareness on our backs,

Perhaps allowing that old, childlike fear to lurk behind us,

We must hold the stairs while our friends run for the safety of the light,

We must traverse them - often alone - and refuse to allow the darkness to spread any further than our dim, unfinished basement.