It wasn’t until the lights went out that I pulled my attention from the book I was currently reading.  From my spot hunkered down on my bed, covered to the chin in blankets, I didn’t fully recognize the darkness until I realized I could no longer read the words on the pages.  My eyes moved to the direction of the lamp in annoyance.  It was not the first time that night it had gone out.  It had been storming all evening, making it difficult to keep a steady signal on any type of technology.  So instead to pass the time I had picked up the only book on my shelf I had yet to read.
   But I wouldn’t be able to read if I couldn’t see a foot in front of my face, let alone the small print of the novel.  Luckily, the backup generator mom had insisted we get helped keep lights on even when the television and Wi-Fi went out.  It had kept a steady source of light going up until certain points of the night.  Even then, it would only go out for a few seconds before flickering back on, allowing a somewhat steady flow for reading.
   Now, I waited expectantly for the light to go back on.  Seconds passed, and the silence was filled by nothing but the rain hitting the window and the occasional rumble of thunder.  I frowned at the lamp when no light flooded the room again.  In frustration, I reached over and tried to click the lamp on a few times.  Each time was to no avail.  The generator had probably died.  This meant I needed to find some other source of light.
   I let out a sigh and kicked the covers off of my legs and tucked my book onto the corner of the bed.  I fumbled over the nightstand for my phone, intending to use it as a light source.  I pressed the home button and waited.  The screen stayed black.  I scowled down at it and tossed it on the bed.  Of course it’s dead.  Finding the candles downstairs was going to be a challenge now. 
  I stood in the darkness for an indecisive moment, and when a flash of lighting lit the room up for a fleeting second, I made my choice.  I marched towards my door and opened it, stepping into the waiting darkness outside my room.  It was equally as dark as it had been in my room, if not more.  For a moment, the darkness was intimidating enough to give me second thoughts.  A brief warning flickered at the back of my mind, but it was brushed off almost as soon as it came.
  I began my trek down the hallway towards the stairs, my sock-covered feet making no sound.  Low rumbles of thunder covered the sound of the rain along with any other sound that might have been made.  When I reached the stairs I paused, nervously eyeing the pitch blackness that awaited me.  My movements slowed and my eyes flickered everywhere as I creaked down the steps, images of monsters and danger flicking across my mind.  Suddenly all those horror movies I’d seen didn’t seem so fake and silly anymore.
  Too busy looking over the banister and into the black living room, I didn’t see the figure that was slinking up the stairs towards me until I bumped into them.  An instinctive scream escaped me and I made to shove myself away when the figure moved back a little bit.  At the same time, lightning flashed outside and over the figure’s head I saw my parents’ car outside in the driveway, the headlights off and looking vacant.
  I breathed a sigh of relief when I recognized my mom standing a few steps below me, her head tilted towards me.  Even in the darkness, I could see her dark hair which appeared to be slicked down from the heavy rain outside.  As relieved as I was to see her, I didn’t remember if she had said she would be home so early.
   “Mom,” I exhaled.  “You scared me.  Why are you guys home so early?”
  She didn’t respond right away, and I had a feeling she’d had a long night. I moved the rest of the way down the stairs and walked passed her, putting my hands out as to avoid knocking into a wall.  I used the wall to direct myself towards the kitchen, where we kept our supplies of candles under the sink.  We usually kept a lighter and a set of matches right next to them, so it killed two birds with one stone.
  Ignoring her silence, I spoke to again.  “The backup generator died just before you guys got home,” I explained as I moved my hands over the cabinets to where the candles were.  “I’m getting candles now.”
   She didn’t respond and the only sound was the rain and my own shuffling of objects.  I moved my hands around the area under the sink until my fingers hit something waxy.  I triumphantly grabbed a hold of the cylinder and put it on the counter, turning to look over my shoulder at the darkness by the stairs.
   “Long night?” I asked casually, hoping to strike up some sort of conversation with her.  It was not uncommon when there were days she wouldn’t talk at all, especially when she and dad had been arguing again.  I had yet to see my dad tonight, also.
   Again, no response, and my smile faded as I found the thin pack of matches in the dry space.  I turned back to the cabinet and closed it, picking open the matches until I got a hold of a single match.  I stood up and grabbed the candle, turning back towards the stairs.  I swiped at the match box a few times, waiting for it to make a flame.  Within seconds, it flared.
  I grinned and turned the flame to the wick.  I turned the lit candle towards my mom by the stairs.  But she wasn’t standing there anymore and I blinked at the foot of the stairs, frowning.
   “Mom?”  I called, wondering if she’d gone to bed.
   Something moved behind me and I looked back to find a dark object hanging in the middle of the room.  I frowned and walked forward until the candle light gave off enough light for me to see what it was.  Immediately I wished I hadn’t.  My eyes landed on a human figure with a bloodless face, a rope tied from the neck of it to the light fixture.  Horror filled me when I saw the claw marks etched along his arms and ripped into his clothes.  And it got worse when I realized it was my father.
   I opened my mouth in a silent cry, flinging my hands over my mouth in horror.  The candle hit the ground with a resounding thump that was covered by the roar of the rain on the windows.  Thunder rumbled in my head and my ears burned with the loudness.  I forgot about the candle, I forgot about the fact it could catch fire.  I forgot until I regained my senses long enough to grab the candle rolling away from me and turn around, preparing to make a dash for the front door.  I’d get help.  I wouldn’t end up like the people in the horror movies.
  But even as I began to move away from my father and towards the stairs and the door, I noticed another figure there.  My mom.  I opened my mouth to warn her, to alert her of the threat that could still be in the house.  And before I even began, I stopped.  The moment the candle light casted its shadow on her, I found I had made a vital mistake. 
  The figure standing there was not my mom.  I couldn’t find her in the bloody mess along her arms, or the blackness of her eyes or the too-pale of her skin.  I couldn’t find any words to speak or a scream to scream.  In the end, all I could find was the black that covered my vision with one demented smile from my mother, a smile that revealed her sharpened teeth.
   I dropped the candle, and the flame went out and left the house completely enveloped in darkness.