Why do we hide, Bruce?

The winds blew the blue curtains at his window into a messy, convoluted mess. Bruce shivered in his bed, and tossed on to the other side, facing away from the window. The blanket was thick, but it wasn’t helping him keep warm. ‘Count down from 100.’ It always worked. 100. 99. 98. 97. ‘What was that?’ Something flew near his window, but it was too dark to make anything out. Bruce pulled the blanket over his head and started counting again. 96. 95. 94.

The whistling wind broke his concentration. He slowly moved the blankets to peek out of the blanket. The darkness was opaque. Bruce quivered a little. ‘Horrible vantage point. Need to know how to get a better one.’ Another movement. ‘Must not be fearful. Must check it out.’ The branches moved in a weird manner. The moonlight lit up a few of them, and their shadows hid all the others. Bruce climbed out of his bed and slipped into his coat. Cautiously, he walked to the window. The branches made queer shapes. The wind kept changing the branch that was receiving the light. ‘Things are darker in the light.’

When he looked down, Bruce couldn’t see the ground. When he looked up, the only thing he could see was himself, flying in the clouds.  Something moved in the woods outside. Quick, and bright. Bruce wondered what it was. He felt the fear wash over his mind. The dull numbness in the back of his head suddenly grew sharp; his heart started beating faster, and faster still; he could feel a weird sweat trickle down his neck. ‘Fear must be conquered.’ His dad always told him that fears must be faced, but Bruce knew that there were only 2 possibilities when it came to fear- you conquer it, or it destroys you. And Bruce knew, in his gut, he knew, that this darkness had to be conquered.

Bruce tiptoed out into the woods. The rustling of the leaves and the whooshing of the branches were the only sounds he could make out, apart from the screeching winds. He waited at the boundary for a little while, gathering courage, courage and strength. It was a cold night. ‘Just see what it is, that is all.’ Every crevice and nook seemed alive to him. The vegetation that normally looked warm and welcoming to him in the day suddenly started taking shapes that beckoned him to leave, to run, far, far away. A sharp movement on his left made the air get caught in his larynx. Instinctively he ran towards his right, the only sounds buzzing in his ears were those of his own heavy breathing, and of his heavy footsteps crunching the dried leaves. A sudden whisper of the wind at his neck made him scream out loud, but he kept his balance, and kept up his pace. He ran in further, in to the darkness, in to the void.

Just a few rays of the morning sun managed to penetrate through the canopy and reach the floor of the woods. Bruce realised that there was fallen tree a few step ahead. ‘Hide in the trunk.’ Bruce ran faster than he ever had. In one swift movement, he was inside the trunk. He heaved a sigh of relief, and closed his eyes. A low hiss made the hair on the back of his head stand. Slowly he opened his eyes, and saw in the darkness, thirty, small glowing balls of light. A small gasp escaped his mouth, but the dominoes had already begun falling. The bats flew right at him, squealing, sharp, and out of the opening, in to the light. Bruce had hidden his face in between his thighs, but he felt each of the bats’ wings on his head. Fear had frozen all his other senses. He could still feel their wings on his head, but he knew they were long gone. ‘They are gone. They are gone, don’t be scared.’ He breathed. ‘Fear is the strongest driving force. Fear doesn’t need to be eradicated. Just harnessed.’ Bruce was lost in fear, but in a completely different way now.

He heard his name being called in the distance. He didn’t move. He felt himself being pulled out of the trunk, he heard Alfred’s doting voice wash over his being. Thomas hugged Bruce.

“I hid. I was scared. I was scared. So I hid.”

Thomas held Bruce’s hand, and looked at him.

“Why do we hide, Bruce? So we can finally find ourselves.”