My perception.

Death.

There's only one thing in the world I'm afraid of...
Death lurked in every door way with hell at one dark window. I was staring at the snow, the storm hadn't cleared up since sometime last week, and I'm starting to become curious as to when it will; but with the way it's going, I don't think that it is anywhere close.
All lights are off, my mom's in bed upstairs; but I'm still wondering where my dad is. Every night I take a look outside before I go to bed; hoping to see him come home. But I'm led to believe that I don't think he ever will. He works with the army, I hope he's still out there somewhere; we have no connections with him until he gets back from working, wherever that may be... I still remember the day he filled in the consent form before he sent it off, precisely to the moment of me sitting on his knee, watching him pick up the black ball point pen and slowly doodling out his signature; the letter he was replying to clearly stated that he wasn't allowed to tell anybody his whereabouts even when he left for his duty. But I'm just guessing that since starting the job, he lost all duties for being my father. All I ever see looking out of the stone cold glass window with white messy paint around the edges is my dark faded reflection looking back at me. It feels like no matter how hard I try to hope he's still here, I know somewhere deep inside of me... he isn't... he's gone.
I turned away from the glass with so many disbeliefs. My heart always races while I'm at that window, and to this day; I still have no idea why. My dad left me and my mom when I was five years old, and since then, we have no hearings from his existence. It feels like we've lost him, and the thought of that scares me, because I don't want our doubled thoughts to become true.
After turning away from the shabby, old looking window; I'm left staring into space at the living room in deep thought, the laminate flooring starts to become my future, I feel like I have been trodden on more times than enough. Although I keep waiting on my father's return, I'm beginning to hate what he's doing; how it's leaving me and my mom feeling and what effect it actually has on our futures. It's fairly depressing because I never imagined my future without that old man, I couldn't even imagine growing up without him... until it happened.
I took a few strides toward the dark looking stairs, and then I placed my right hand on the handrail and grabbed it firmly. My whereabouts look safe, but that's not how I feel. Trying to rush, I place one foot after the other, hoping to be as quiet as I can so that I won't be heard... the stairs keep creaking, but I try not to let that stop me from getting to the last step; after passing the half way line and feeling relieved, I rushed up the last few bumps in the carpet and finally made it to the top; I'm seconds away from taking the first door on the left, but I feel like a stalker has arisen again and its starting to scare me. I'm facing the landing window which is right in front of where I'm standing, at first I see nothing but glass, but then I hear unwanted thoughts on repeat in my head, my vision went a blur, my head felt like it was spinning, I close my eyes and open them, hoping to get my vision back, I rub my eyes, and look down, it wasn't until I looked up again I seen something behind me, the shadows of that something are on the walls around my bedroom door, and I'm not even looking in that direction. I can't stand here anymore, at least not frozen! I rushed to my bedroom door and swung it open; it bounced off the wall and made a loud noise;
*BANG!*

That wasn't meant to happen "goodnight mom!" I said loudly, hoping that she didn't mind the noise that probably scared her. I felt bad for slamming the door open, and it was only until I closed It behind me that I didn't care about the noise anymore; the anxiety has just cleared that thought off my chest.
I scurried over my room, attempting to dodge the mess on the floor; but I still feel like I am being watched over. I can't take it anymore. Climbing, but dodging my clothes on the way to my bed, I've finally made it! Thoughts flew all over the room like a bird learning to fly; I constantly feel like I'm being watched, like there's a camera somewhere in the house watching my every move... but most importantly, the darkness is arising and so is the person creating that darkness.

"Janie, are you okay?" my mom called from the other end of the door.

"Yeah mom, I'm fine." I said.

"Good. Hey, I'm sure your father will be back soon. You don't need to keep staring out of that window all of the time waiting on his return. When he's finished his adventure, he'll be back in no time; I'm sure of it."

"Okay mom, goodnight."

"Goodnight sweetie, sweet dreams."

As if she thinks he'll return, he's been gone for so long, I'm beginning to forget what he looks like. Another 'goodnight' is another bad night for me. I'm more than doubtful that he'll never come back, my mom is just filling me with false hope to pass the time by. I know it sounds harsh, but sometimes I feel like I don't need her, I just want my dad back...

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

(Sounds off the alarm.)

"Janie, time for school" shouted mom from down the stairs.

"I'm up!" I retorted.

Now then... what to wear, what to wear...