For the longest time in my childhood, i was afraid of the dark. even in my house, walking through the corridor next to lightless rooms. The bigger it was, the scarier it became. The living room especially felt empty with no person inside, but even then next to it was the bedroom of my parents, where they of course slept each night. And although i would hear them sleep, that room was no less intimidating.
Before going to bed every night i would dart across the corridor in an attempt to outrun whatever was definitely planning its move on me. At first, it was a gorilla, undoubtedly jumping out from behind the couch any time now. Then, as i eventually outgrew that idea due to it being 'unlikely', the source of terror had now become a burglar that had successfully sneaked into the house, across several different rooms no less, and now decided to hide behind the sofa, preparing to ambush my younger self.. any second now.
Of course, i took no chances. Always running from one lit room to another, oftentimes annoying one of my parents that i would accidentally bump into, reaching a safe heaven when i could finally turn around, with the only source of darkness visible in front of me. That calmed me down, in the end, every night, i was able to go to bed, despite the horrors that were lurking in the dark. What a brave child i was. At least, i didnt cower in the bathroom all night.