She liked the dark. Always had. She knew she wasn’t suppose to. Knew from such an early age that it wasn’t to be dwelled upon, wasn’t to be lost in, wasn’t to be compensated. But it just didn’t work that way for her. For years she tried to hide it, quickly closing her eyes when her parents would come in to turn off the light. Draw the blinds when she would lie on her soft bed in hers dark room so no one could see her body languid on the bed, enveloped, the heavy curtains drawn, the light kept on the other side of glass panes. She always let her mind run free. Nothing to look at, nothing to see, e