My Greatest Childhood Fear

When it comes to my childhood, I will always relate it to a small house, old and run-down, where I lived with my grandparents. I can still remember those marks that I drew casually on the wall of it, those flowers in the backyard on which my grandfather would spend most of his spare time and, of course, a frisky puppy, completely black from the head to the tail, who I would like to call "little black." I can also recall those happy moments, such as watering flowers with my grandfather, or playing a trick on my "little black." Nevertheless, my childhood was not always about joy and happiness; it was about fear as well. When I was a little kid, it seemed that I was afraid of nothing, except only one thing--the dark.

What does the word "dark" mean? As for me, in my childhood, it represented ghosts. Surely, I knew that there were no so-called ghosts in the world, but when I was in a completely dark room, some kind of ghosts--with his hideous face and terrible teeth--would come into my mind and make me fearful. They don't actually exist, but I was still fearful of them somehow. It's quite strange. I could not withstand being in the dark, because I thought there might be someone invisible around me.