I don’t know what brought me up here. It wasn’t an easy climb, especially in pumps, but I didn’t dare take them off in exchange for splinters. There was no shortage of them in this rickety old structure. I wasn’t complaining though, at least it still held. I glanced around the familiar lighthouse. Most of the furniture that had once decorated the interior downstairs had decayed beyond recognition, however, the glass lens was still intact. I walked around it, examining. The glass was cracked and chipped and broken in some places, but possibly still functional. I paced around it thoughtfully until I found the doorway that led outside. The moment I stepped through it cold air sliced through my clothing like a bullet and hit my face with the force of a fire hose. I staggered back but kept going, knowing it would be worth it. It was. The beach appeared to stretch out into eternity in either direction beside me. On it, I could spot lights and the bodies of the people who’d made me come here. They seemed to be having a swell time, the wind carried the faint sounds of their laughter up to me, I shook my head. They were probably getting tipsy, I’d get down in time to witness the worst of their alcohol-induced idiocy. I’d call it one of the highest forms of entertainment, it’s amusing to watch people you don’t particularly care for make themselves into fools. Aside from my classmates, the thing that caught my eye wasn’t the long sandy beaches, or waves sliding up the shore, but the horizon. Without the sun, the line where the ocean met the sky was invisible. I couldn’t even really find a point where they began to meld together. Beyond the fluffy waves advancing and retreating against the bone-colored sand, there was just an inky blackness, more fathomless than the sea. It didn’t feel empty, but full. Almost comforting in its thriving darkness. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. More voices and laughter wafted up, and I felt a numbness begin to spread through my limbs. I glanced down at my hands and to my shock, I found the tips of my fingers black, as if charred. I practically jumped out of my skin, watching in horror as the blackness slunk up my arms to my elbows as if I was slowly lowering them into tar. It seemed to coalesce onto my skin from my surroundings. I spun around as the numbness spread to my shoulders, frantically trying to locate its source but it was coming from all around me. My heartbeat rose with the dark as it began to cover my face, crawling up my neck, and soaking into my hair twisting, spinning, and sticking it into place. It covered my mouth and nose, suffocating me and I staggered back another step. I started to see white as I felt it settle into my eyes. Everywhere I looked I saw white, blinding, and harsh. I struggled to rid myself of the substance, scratching and twisting and tearing at my skin, but it wouldn’t come off. My heartbeat and brain seemed to be the only part of my body still free. The rest of me was just imprisoned in this black shell. I could still hear the laughter from below, it felt almost mocking now, as I struggled to even release a breath. There was a pounding emanating from somewhere and I couldn’t tell if it was my chest. Lack of oxygen was causing me to teeter on my feet, and I tried to reach out my arms to grasp something to steady myself, but if they were moving at all I couldn’t feel it. A different more empty darkness began closing in on the edges of my vision, and I could feel my consciousness slipping away. I stopped struggling. What was the point? Nothing I did was making a difference, and succumbing would be much more pleasant than enduring this entrapment any longer. As I was letting out one more smothered exhale, something changed. The unrelenting white light was suddenly replaced by a softer glow. I sucked in a gasp of surprise and heard someone call out. “Yomi!” Called a high female voice. “I know you’re up here.” I tried to speak but choked. “Ayomide, this isn’t fun—” Catching sight of me, she sputtered, “Ayo—Uh—what’re you doing?” Suddenly able to move, I glanced down at myself expecting to see an ugly black substance encasing me. Instead, I just saw myself in a beautiful flowing black gown standing at the edge of the gallery where a piece of the rusty railing had fallen off. The wind was whipping my skirt around me, but the only darkness on me was the fabric of my clothing, and my complexion. “I—” I began. How do I explain that? “I don’t know.” “Well, why don’t you get down from the edge of there.” She suggested with a nervous tinge to her voice. As kids Kesha and I would climb up the old lighthouse, it was our spot and we were fairly comfortable being here. If she was getting nervous, I’d better step down. So I did. Her body seemed to transform with relief. “Are you okay?” I pursed my lips. “How does my hair look?” “Your ‘fro is beautiful, curly, defined, and moisturized. Never been better.” She hurriedly reassured me. I let out a breath. “Then I’m fine.” She tugged subconsciously on her braids. “Well, that’s good because they’re down there making all kinds of jokes about how they’re not surprised you’re late, and they should’ve made spiked Kool-aid, and—” “I’m coming down.” “The stairs?” “Duh.” “Good.” She nodded, searching my expression to make sure I was okay. “Alright…” I smiled at her. “Now I gotta go cuss their drunk asses out.” She stepped aside. “Lead the way!” I laughed and made my way around the now glowing lens towards the staircase.