I strolled home with a bag in hand, oblivious to the people around me, just as they were oblivious to my presence. Sky blue there was slight breeze, and a pleasant smell. "MOVE OUT THE WAY KID". It took me a second to recognize that I was being spoken to, but by then the man had already ran past me dashing as if his life depended on it. Glancing behind me curious as to what the man had been so terrified of , I saw a sight that defied description—not a void of light or darkness, but a nothingness that my eyes struggled to comprehend. It felt as though I were forbidden to witness it an indescribable presence inching closer, akin to a hushed whisper or the subtle crawl of a spider on the back of my neck. I pivoted and sprinted, driven by an instinct to flee without understanding the source of my fear, only a desperate need to escape. The apprehension loomed that if it caught up with me, I wouldn't just be erased from this earthly realm but purged from the very fabric of reality. In an instant, I vanished, leaving nothing behind except the haunting image of my weeping shadow. "Am I alive?" I uttered, my voice barely escaping my throat. A heavy weight pressed upon me, as if my soul were engaged in a struggle to remain conscious. Opening my eyes, I discovered my shadow in a corner, huddled into a ball, clutching its chest and weeping. Muffled sounds reached my ears, a repetitive mantra of apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," echoed from my shadow, each utterance accompanied by a palpable tug at the core of my being. As I scrutinized my surroundings, an unsettling fear seeped into my soul. The solitary bed in the corner of the room appeared forlorn, its wooden hue fading from the walls. A faint glimmer of sunlight struggled to pierce through a small window, mostly obstructed by overgrown grass and dirt. The rug, once vibrant, lay tattered and mangled on the concrete floor, resembling more of a patch of earth than a proper floor covering. Realization struck me with a jolt. "This is my room," I acknowledged. Panic gripped me as I frantically scanned the room for an exit, only to find none. I was alone, as I seemingly always had been. Amidst the desolation, one peculiar element caught my attention—a clump of hair strewn haphazardly on the floor. With hesitant steps, I approached it, the cold concrete beneath my feet amplifying the only sounds in the room: my quivering breaths and the eerie echoes from my shadow. As I reached for the clump of hair, crouching down to grab it, a sudden scurrying noise echoed across the floor. Startled, I stood up abruptly and turned around, scanning the room to find my shadow conspicuously absent. The once-comforting weeps were replaced by an unsettling silence. A rush of hot, drunken breath brushed against my skin, and I felt a lanky figure crouched over me, clutching a Bible. I swallowed hard, a sense of dread enveloping me. Although I desperately wished otherwise, deep down, I recognized the looming figure. I had escaped this form, this man, and this place long ago. Yet, an unsettling truth gripped me - only one person could instill such fear, make my own shadow flee. "Father," I whispered with trembling breaths. In his hand, a Bible held tightly, he crouched down, his voice a hushed whisper in my ear, "Have you sinned once more, Inutilis?"
I strolled home with a bag in hand, oblivious to the people around me, just as they were oblivious to my presence. Sky blue, there was a slight breeze, and a pleasant smell.
"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY, KID."
It took me a second to recognize that I was being spoken to, but by then the man had already run past me dashing as if his life depended on it. Glancing behind me, curious as to what the man had been so terrified of, I saw a sight that defied description—not a void of light or darkness, but a nothingness that my eyes struggled to comprehend. It felt as though I were forbidden to witness it—an indescribable presence inching closer, akin to a hushed whisper or the subtle crawl of a spider on the back of my neck.
I pivoted and sprinted, driven by an instinct to flee without understanding the source of my fear, only a desperate need to escape. The apprehension loomed that if it caught up with me, I wouldn't just be erased from this earthly realm but purged from the very fabric of reality. In an instant, I vanished, leaving nothing behind except the haunting image of my weeping shadow.
"Am I alive?" I uttered, my voice barely escaping my throat. A heavy weight pressed upon me, as if my soul were engaged in a struggle to remain conscious. Opening my eyes, I discovered my shadow in a corner, huddled into a ball, clutching its chest and weeping.
Muffled sounds reached my ears, a repetitive mantra of apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," echoed from my shadow, each utterance accompanied by a palpable tug at the core of my being.
As I scrutinized my surroundings, an unsettling fear seeped into my soul. The solitary bed in the corner of the room appeared forlorn, its wooden hue fading from the walls. A faint glimmer of sunlight struggled to pierce through a small window, mostly obstructed by overgrown grass and dirt. The rug, once vibrant, lay tattered and mangled on the concrete floor, resembling more of a patch of earth than a proper floor covering.
Realization struck me with a jolt. "This is my room," I acknowledged.
Panic gripped me as I frantically scanned the room for an exit, only to find none. I was alone, as I seemingly always had been. Amidst the desolation, one peculiar element caught my attention—a clump of hair strewn haphazardly on the floor.
With hesitant steps, I approached it, the cold concrete beneath my feet amplifying the only sounds in the room: my quivering breaths and the eerie echoes from my shadow.
As I reached for the clump of hair, crouching down to grab it, a sudden scurrying noise echoed across the floor. Startled, I stood up abruptly and turned around, scanning the room to find my shadow conspicuously absent. The once-comforting weeps were replaced by an unsettling silence.
A rush of hot, drunken breath brushed against my skin, and I felt a lanky figure crouched over me, clutching a Bible. I swallowed hard, a sense of dread enveloping me. Although I desperately wished otherwise, deep down, I recognized the looming figure. I had escaped this form, this man, and this place long ago. Yet, an unsettling truth gripped me - only one person could instill such fear, make my own shadow flee.
"Father," I whispered with trembling breaths.
In his hand, a Bible held tightly, he crouched down, his voice a hushed whisper in my ear, "Have you sinned once more, Inutilis?"