“I am afraid of the dark, and this fear is gaining power over me with every moment I spend in the cellar. My stepmother is perfectly aware of this fear; I even used a nightlight to go to sleep when I lived upstairs. If she wanted to punish me, click, off it would go, leaving me to cry in the dark. Fear is not always rational, it is powered by your imagination, or an accumulation of past experiences that teaches you to be afraid. In this cellar I have an abundance of fears to choose from, be it the creations of my own mind or the reality of where I am.”