A/N Hello! I'm back(ish)!
Yes, I am still alive, and my main story will be updated soon. This year I have Creative Writing as an elective for school, so I can write more, YAY! A lot of the short stories I will write are easily turned into fanfiction (or may be fanfictions but I change the name in school so I don't seem weird). Here's the first one. This was based off of a prompt asking to make the conflict of the story result from opposites.
Look around you. See the shadows? They are always there. Wherever you go, whatever you do, your shadow follows. Like a pesky flea, it will never leave your side. The same for everyone else. Shadows never leave. Some love the shadows. They love the shade of trees; they love making art with the shadow of object. Only I know the truth. Shadows should not be trusted. They cover the ground in darkness where it should be getting light. Darkness is not when shadows disappear, it is when they rule the most. It is when they control everything. I know this better than anyone.
I was born as Clayton Bullock. When I was born, I appeared to be a normal child; nineteen inches and seven pounds. Yes, I appeared normal, but I did not act normal. I cried. Every morning my parents would wake up to the sound of me crying. They would take me into their arms and try and comfort me, but I would not stop. Only when my vocal chords had given out completely would I stop. My parents were worried. This wasn't normal. Doctors tried repeatedly to diagnose the issue, but nothing could be determined. Physically, I was as fit as a fiddle.
Almost everyone has no memories from their infant days. I remember those days vividly. It was absolute torture not being able to communicate my struggles and tell them what was wrong; what was causing my constant distress.
It was the shadows.
I could hear them. They spoke to me in deep voices and dark tones saying nothing but the evils of the world. They told me of the evil side of everything; how anything can be twisted and deformed into something the devil could have made. It was too much to handle as an infant. I was exposed to everything at once and it was hard.
But the worst part was the once shadow I could never run away from. My own. It taunted me, scolded me, and hurt me mentally. It urged me to do unspeakable things. I was alone.
As I grew up, I had to learn to shut the voices out. I had to learn to deal with them. It didn't work. They always found a way into my thoughts and stampeded on anything happy. Learning to speak was my only hope. It I could learn to speak, I could tell someone about my problem and they could help. The time couldn't come soon enough.
On the day I could finally think of something that would adequately express myself, I immediately went to my parents and told them everything I had ever wanted to say. I spilt it all.
Their reaction was expected. They consoled me, told me they loved them, and promised they would do anything they could to help. I believed them. Then the shadows spoke.
"They think you're a freak," their shadows whispered. "They think you've tainted the family...you're a waste of...you're nothing...space and they think...they wanted...you...don't…" The voices melded insult after insult until it was indistinguishable. Then they let out once last sentence. "They don't want you anymore." I ran to my room screaming.
That was the day I realized I would never get help. I would always be alone. The shadows of others would always tell me the evil things they thought and things they didn't even know they desired.
School was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I had never been surrounded by so many people in my life. The voices were overwhelming. They told me everyone's greatest secrets. They also told me about their opinions. They weren't nice. The judgment and hatred directed at me was overwhelming. They didn't even know about the fact I could hear shadows, and they still judged me for the way acted: silent, reserved, and skittish. They thought I was stupid. Most of the time, this was never even shown by outward actions. I knew about it because of the shadows. I never made any friends; any attempts immediately fell flat once I heard their shadows. I never liked any of my teachers either for the very same reason. Their shadows told me all the faults they saw in me.
Then came high school. The years everybody dreads even without my condition. I came in prepared to the onslaught of shadows. Everybody had one and those shadows told all.
It was just before I was heading to my first class with my head down low, my books pressed against my chest, and my feet dragging along the floor, when I ran into her. It was an accident. I dropped my books and staggered back. I heard her say sorry with a beautiful voice. I braced my mind for her shadow to start talking.
I never heard it. Everything else around me was bombarding me at every moment, but I couldn't hear her shadow. She kept walking and I watched her leave. It startled me so much, I became determined to meet her again.
Lunch came and I searched all over for her, eventually finding her in a swarm of people around the center table. I couldn't stay there long; the shadows were too overwhelming. From a small distance away I wrote a note telling her to meet me by the entrance after school. I walked up, tapped her on the shoulder, thrust the note into her hand when she turned around, and ran away to my corner of relative solitude.
Fortunately for me, she was there when I came outside. Except, she was hiding in the bushes. I asked her why she was hiding. She put her fingers over her lips, got up, and motioned for me to follow her. I still couldn't hear her shadow. She moved through the shadows of the buildings to get to the back of the school. I followed behind, trying desperately to block of the horrifying stories the shadows were telling. Then she walked through a small patch of light. I understood.
She had no shadow. It simply didn't exist for her. As soon as we reached the back of the school I told her everything; about my condition, the struggles I'd been going through, and how I noticed that she had no shadow. It felt really good to tell it to someone that I couldn't hear the shadow of.
She smiled and gave me a hug. The hug had a comforting warmth to it, and I knew that she very genuinely wanted to help me.
Then she started to talk. First she told me her name, Zelda. Then she told me how she was born just like me; tortured by the shadows. I was mesmerized at how accurately she was able to describe the exact emotion I felt every day. Then she told me the most important thing ever told to me. She got rid of her shadow. I pleaded with her to tell me how, but she just smiled knowingly and told me to come home with her. I followed like a lost puppy.
When we got to her house, she told me to leave my stuff upstairs and come down to the basement. She also gave me goggles to wear that made everything darker. At the bottom of the stairs, we came to a large room that was pitch black. Most people think of darkness as the absence of light. I knew it as the kingdom of shadows. The voices were so loud I started whimpering with tears trickling down my face. Then everything turned white and all the noises ceased.
I was so surprised that I fell to the floor. Then my eyes adjusted. All four walls, the ceiling, and the floor were made entirely of lights. The fact that light was coming from every direction caused all the shadows the disappear and everything I normally heard, stopped. My head felt empty.
In the middle of the room was a table and a chair. Zelda led me over and told me to sit in the chair. She went over to the side and opened a panel of lights. Even inside the cabinet there were lights. She pulled out a flower pot with flowers in it, and set it on the table. I was confused.
Then she told me how she got rid of the shadows. Since shadows represented everything that was bad in the world, she told me to focus on the good. She told me to stare at the flower; to describe it to her. I'd never looked at a flower before. I only knew of wilted ones. I stared.
The flower was beautiful. Without the shadows I could finally see the beauty in it. All of the shades, and textures, and contrasting colors. There was even a tiny ladybug on it. I put my finger next to it, and it crawled onto my hand. It felt wonderful.
I ended up talking with Zelda for a very long time. It was nice to be able to talk to someone with no interruptions at all. Eventually and unfortunately, I had to go home. As soon as I walked out of that room, the shadows bombarded me again, and I was back to my old cowardly self. But Zelda reassured me that I was welcome any time and I smiled.
For the rest of the school year I kept coming back every day. While in the room, it was pure bliss, but as soon as I would leave, the stress would return every time. Zelda started teaching me how to keep the good things in my mind. She would give me uplifting phrases and images to repeat over and over in my head. It was hard. Progress was agonizingly slow; I couldn't keep anything in my head for more than thirty seconds, before the shadows shoved it out. But I kept coming back.
Senior year of high school came and went and we still continued to be friends and work together. Both of us ended up going to the same college and I looked forward to seeing her every day. She became that room of light.
Eventually, I worked up the courage to ask her out, and we started dating. It was nice. Even though the shadows were still haunting me, she would distract me on dates and point out anything of beauty for me to look at. We still visited the light room from time to time too, to give me a full break from the world.
I still remember when I finally notice things starting to pay off. One day, I was walking back to the dorms from my class with the sun directly behind me. I was starting to be able to ignore the shadows and keep the good thoughts inside my head. I glanced down at my shadow, and nearly stopped walking.
It was fading. Instead of the solid black it usually was, I could tell the shade was darkening. Its voice wasn't as loud either. The same for everything around me; all the shadows were weakening. I immediately called Zelda and told her what I observed. She was ecstatic. We celebrated. I was happy.
Happy. I finally understood that word. The shadows were losing the hold on my emotions, and I could feel again. I could be happy.
And that is what prompted me to propose to her. I wanted to share my happiness. I wanted to make sure I would never lose that happiness again. I know, that that was the best decision I could ever make.
That was confirmed after the wedding. When the ceremony was over, we walked hand in hand back to our car with a beautiful sunset behind us, I looked down.
My shadow was gone.
For the first time in my life, I cried. Not from happiness, but from pure joy. And I owed it all to Zelda. She was the light of my life.
Now, as an old man, my troubles are long gone. I still remember the feeling though; feeling trapped in a box with no one to help; being bombarded with nasty thoughts and all moments. Thankfully, I'm not affected anymore. Zelda and I both keep each other happy. When our children were born, we were afraid our children would be born the same way. Fortunately they weren't. They were little bundles of constant energy. But just to be safe, I always told them one little thing that they probably never fully–and never will–understand.
Don't trust the shadows.