David woke with a scream, sitting up in bed. He looked around and at first thought he was alone, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, chills racing each other up and down his spine.
BY AMBER LACOMBE
Nobody else saw them. Nobody ever did. At first he had tried to tell them, but they had thought there was something wrong with him. Others just said he had a vivid imagination. So, he stopped talking about the shadows, but he didn’t stop talking to them.
“David.”
The little boy was jolted out of his half-sleep at the whisper, heart racing for a second before he realized who it was. His shadow, created by the night light that was plugged in near his bed.
“What? I’m trying to sleep,” he mumbled, rolling over to face the shadow. It copied his movements. It always did.
“I know, but…” The shadow seemed to be thinking carefully about its next words. “I think you should try talking to them again.”
“My parents? But they’ll never believe me!” David protested, his voice a hiss. “They never have!”
“Make them believe you. It’s important. There’s… something wrong.”
“Something wrong?”
“Haven’t you always thought that there was something wrong with everybody because they don’t see me? They don’t see us?”
“I’m trying to sleep,” David whispered. “Maybe you should too.” He rolled away from his shadow and folded his hands under his head, closing his eyes again. He was tired. He’d had a long day at school.
“David.” The voice – that sounded just like his – was urgent.
“What is it?” David stayed where he was.
“Doesn’t it bother you that you’re the only one who can see us?”
“Of course it bothers me, but we can talk about it tomorrow.”
“But haven’t you ever wondered why?”
That question sent David’s mind racing. Why was he the only one who could see them? Shadows were everywhere. They were other versions of people, silhouettes that walked the wrong way as if they were from different dimension that didn’t have the same rules of gravity.
“Am I…” David pondered his next word for a bit. “Crazy?”
“No,” his shadow said. “Everyone else is.”
“And you know that?”
“Well, shadows do exist and everyone claims that they don’t. Wouldn’t you call that crazy?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s the same thing as having a forest right in front of you and claiming it doesn’t exist.”
“Why would anyone do that?” David rolled around to face his shadow, adjusting his blankets to get more comfortable.
“You tell me.” The shadow’s voice was smug, realizing that David saw his point.
Suddenly, there was a knock on his door, and David quickly shut his eyes and tried to make it look like he was sleeping.
“David? Are you awake? Who are you talking to?” That was his mother’s voice, calling through the door.
There was a slight creak as it opened and he heard his mother’s light, tentative footsteps as she came over to the bed. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and he tried to keep his breathing under control. He was sleeping. He wasn’t awake. He hadn’t been
talking. And how could he have been? There wasn’t even anyone to talk to.
David felt his mom lean over, brush his hair away, and give him a kiss on the forehead. Then she quietly left the room.
“Are you still awake?” the shadow asked after a while.
“Sh…”
David? David?”
“Quiet,” he whispered.
“There you are. You’re awake.”
“No I’m not. Be quiet.”
“But I have something to tell you.” The shadow’s voice sounded crestfallen.
David kept his eyes, now feeling heavy, closed. “What?”
“I’m not real.”
Those words almost felt like they echoed around the room, and then everything was silent except for David’s breathing.
“What do you mean you’re not real?” He opened his eyes. His shadow was no longer on the wall.
“Well, I am real.” The voice came from under his bed. It wasn’t his anymore. It was deeper, older, sinister. David froze, clutching his blankets tightly around him, holding his breath. “Just not really what you think I am.”
“Th-Then what a-are you?” It was difficult for David to find his voice. Fear was clutching him with a cold hand.
“Well, David…” The voice almost echoed, sounding like it was coming from a cavern underneath his bed.
“Ever heard of the monster underneath the bed?” The voice was cold and teasing.
“O-Of course I have.” David had no idea how he still had his voice. It felt like his throat was closing up. Dear God, what was happening?
“Well then, wakey, wakey…”
The world fell dark.
. . .
David woke with a scream, sitting up in bed. He looked around and at first thought he was alone, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, chills racing each other up and down his spine.
“Hey, what is it?”
He gave a startled yelp at the voice and turned to find his shadow sitting up on the wall, created by his night light.
“Um… N-Nothing. Go away.”
“I can’t go away.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m your shadow.”
“And what about everyone else’s?”
“What do you mean?” The shadow sounded confused.
“What if I told my mom about you?”
“She won’t believe you. No one ever does and no one ever will.”
There were frightened tears in David’s eyes. It had just been a nightmare, but was his shadow really what he thought it was? Could he have been deceived?
“I don’t want you here.”
“Why? Have I done something wrong?”
“No, no, it’s just…” David sighed, wishing he could relieve the ache in his throat that came with unshed tears. “Never mind.” He slowly laid back down and pulled his blankets over his head. His shadow at first copied his movements, but once he was no longer looking, it stopped. What David didn’t see was the way it smiled with long, pointed teeth.
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