8:30—Harold Munfield, Kate Dickinson ’23

Kate Dickinson ’23

8:30—Harold Munfield

So I just . . . start talking? Alright. My name is Harold Munfield, I’m 89 years old, and I am not crazy. I guess that’s why I’m here. When I was a boy, maybe around eight or ten, I was scared of the dark. Not “The Dark” as a whole, but because in the dark there might be vampires. I know that’s not true, but this fear of mine was indulged by my parents, so I never had to face it and get over it. I was still scared of the dark, generally this time, when I was twenty and signed up to become a miner. The pay was only alright, but it was a mining town, so what other choice did I have? My parents weren’t rich—I couldn’t go to college. Anyway. My best friend Reece Pendelmeyer was also a miner, of course. He was never scared of the dark, no sir. So I felt safe with him down in the mines. One day, it was just us two scouting ahead. I was scared of gas poisoning, and we didn’t have a canary. No birds lived there, and buying one? Far too much work. Losing a worker was cheaper than buying a bird. Reece went in front because he knew how scared I was. I should have been in front. I was assigned to be in front. I should have been. I should have been.

I’m sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. Reece called back to me “I can’t see nothin’. Is your headlamp workin’?” And just as I was about to hand it over to him, it spluttered out. Pitch black, no idea where we were, half a mile under the ground. For such a cheapskate company, our mines went deep.

We should have headed back. It would’ve been the safe thing to do, but we would’ve been halfway to fired for that. Never give up on a job unless you’re mortally wounded, and even then, consider whether or not going back up would be worth it. And we were fine. We would just keep walking forward until we came across a stop, a wall or something. And so we continued and—

We should have headed back. We should have. We should have.

I’m sorry. I’ll try to speed it up, I’m sure you’re very busy here.

We continued on, and Reece just—he gave the most horrible scream I’ve ever heard in my life. His scream faded, and then . . . a thud, and the screaming stopped.

The best I can hope is that it was quick.

I got out of there as soon as I could. I hated being a miner anyways. I struck out as a carpenter. I did well. Well enough that as soon as my children got married and couldn’t care for me I went to a fairly good retirement home. Deerheart, it’s by the river? Yes, that one. Anyway, a few weeks ago, it was nighttime, and I had to go to the bathroom, but it was dark and . . . well. I’m not too good with that, still. So I was about to ring for a nurse but I remembered that the only one working was Jordan. Jordan is horribly cursed. Every single death since they came happened in the same room as them. So I avoid him. As much as I’m afraid of the dark, I certainly am more afraid of death.

So I got to the bathroom all right by myself. I did my business, and then the lightbulb went out. So, since I’m a handyman, I pulled over the stepstool in order to check it out for myself, maybe it was a blown fuse. So I reached up to unscrew it and. . . .

I know this is going to sound crazy, but I promise I’m not.

I touch the bulb, but it’s covered in a thick black tar. That’s when it hits me how pitch black the room is. There is no light. So I rush to the sink to wash the residue off but it just. Won’t. Budge. It’s stuck to my hand. So I sigh and look into the mirror and my eyes are gone. “Alright,” I think to myself, “this is just a trick of the light. Your old bones casting shadows. You’re fine.” So I continue trying to wash the sludge off, and I’m getting tired, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

You never think about it, but unless you have utmost precision, when you pinch the bridge of your nose, you brush against your eyes. The only way to avoid it is to be very careful, and if you’re doing it? You’re a bit past being careful.

Anyway. I pinch the bridge of my nose and my eyes are . . .

They’re just gone.

Nothing.

Holes.

In my face.

Voids.

Nothing.

I scream. In that scream, I heard Reece’s descent, his end. Too early. Should have been me.

I run out of the bathroom, leaving the tap water on, and run into Jordan. Head on right into zem. They try to stop me, comfort me, but I’m already spooked, I don’t want to die, so . . .

I think I might have hit him. Poor kid.

I got back to my room, and the light in there was working fine. I went to my mirror and—

Well. You can see. I’ve still got my eyes.

I went to sleep that night with the light on. I have ever since.

You see this flashlight here? I’m not taking any chances. I’ve got a second in my pocket and extra batteries strapped under my hat. I will not be in the dark ever again.