The creature shook its head and pointed to my lamp. I nodded and walked over to the lamp, taking a deep breath before I shut off the light. I gripped the base of the glass fixture, my body shaking as I turned around. I could still see it, its form more apparent in the candle light. It reached up and ran a hand over its face, and then there were eyes; Striking purple eyes with white pupils. It was looking at me and around the room as more features appeared. Next was a nose, speckled with gray, sharp features, the tip upturned slightly. It took a deep breath and a smile appeared. Sharp shark-like teeth of blue and white sparkled harshly in the void. The black of the shadow was skin now, strange and velvety smooth. I realized then that I had walked over, and was touching the creature. It looked up at me with those strange eyes and smiled that gnashing grin. I gasped and took a step back and then it spoke.
“You seem afraid, I do not wish to harm you.” The voice was crackled, like out of a bad radio. There was some interference in the way the voice dripped out of the mouth, as if it wasn't use to using words. I stood rooted to the spot, trying to remember what I should be doing. My chest felt tight and my vision sparkled and dimmed. “You should probably breath now, Patricia, or you will lose consciousness.” Suddenly, my lungs filled with a rush of cool air and my senses returned. I felt my legs wobble and shudder. I knew I was going to faint. My mind had already decided and was ready to check out. The room tilted and my heart slowed as the cool floor pressed against my back. I could feel my limp body tense inside as the panic grew around me.
Images fluttered in my mind of the last time I fainted. I was at a concert with my friends and there was an after party they had begged me to go to. The music was too loud, the air too smoky and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong with me. There was a part of my mind telling me to run but I couldn't sense any danger. The bass and sound became a dull dim hum beneath the floor. I felt warm fingers hold me, shifting my limbs from their sudden awkward positions. I drifted between the silence and the chaos. The crowd swelled and shifted in the shuttering light, drifting between its own sporadic pulse and seizures. My eyes were heavy and burning, the skin not pressed into the floor felt tight and distant. I crawled towards consciousness, ignoring the dense feeling inside. My vision blurred and dipped as I tried to remember why I was there. The eyes, wide and genuine, stared down at me, attached to cool clammy fingertips and warm palms. They were strange eyes, with a kaleidoscope of colors bouncing off of them. The voices mixed with the music and the gentle gyrations of the party as another song swept into full swing. More concerned faces, now coupled with sharp painful lights and aged voices, shifted into the small dark foyer. I wanted to roll over, to ignore the worry and the questions, to hide from the lights being pointed at my eyes. I curled away from it and the cold stings my skin. The wind was suddenly there, stealing my warmth away into the night. My voice cracked and burned as a shriek climbed out of my throat. I couldn’t move yet but I managed to make my feelings known.
They moved me down steps that were grainy from lack of maintenance and the increase in traffic. I felt my legs wobble and my ankles beg to be free of the weight of me. I tried to speak but my limbs were still tired and the world was spinning to quickly. I was aware of the sharp throbbing in my skull, just above my temple. I didn’t understand this sudden pain, as it wrapped around my head and spiraled down my neck and shoulder. Questions pushed against me and took my words away. The sounds died out for a moment and then I was on the floor again with soft warm fabric acting as a barrier between the floor and me. I tried rolling into it but the hands were there, warm tense hands, holding me still. The hands had a voice, deep and gentle and another voice soft and high. The concern caused a deeper ache and made me try to sleep again. Words floated over me and I heard my voice. I felt divided again, the silence dragging me down. It was there, in repeat, the cold and the warm, the voices and the dense weak feeling making me forget about the pain beneath the skin. My legs buckled when I stood and my muscles contracted as I swam in the influx of adrenaline. The stiffness set in and then the dark took over.
My eyes snapped open and I could see the light sifting in through my blinds. My room was empty, except for the burned down pools of wax on my dresser. Maybe it was a twisted dream, I thought, as I looked around the room. My paper sat half done on my desk and there was no sign of a shadow in my room. I let out a sigh of relief and crawled out of the bed. I was stiff and slightly bruised. Another poor night of sleep, complete with darkened bags and bed head. I stumbled to the bathroom, dragging myself out of my clothes. The hot water of the bath felt glorious over my tight skin. I sat in the heat, trying to remember the dream. It seemed so real, but then again, most dreams tend to. Stepping out of the tub, my scream curdled and died in my throat as I saw my reflection in the mirror. My skin was black as a starless sky, my eyes wide orbs of purple, with that razor set of teeth visible inside the gaping shocked mouth. I stumbled back and slip. My body didn’t collide with the porcelain tub or the metal fixtures protruding out of it.
There were icy hands gripping me, holding me still in the bright white of the bathroom. The shadow man was staring down at me, interest darkening the brilliance of his bright amethyst eyes. I wanted to scream again and call out to my mother but the shadow shook its head. I stood up and backed away from creature. My chest grew tight again and I gulped down air to keep unconsciousness at bay. I looked at the creature and watched it look in the mirror, touching the glass. A bright red glow from within the creatures chest started to form, filling the room with heat and a burning light. I shielded my eyes, backing away, lowering myself back into the warm water of the tub, pressing myself against the side, desperate to escape the light. The warmth and light subsided and the creature was gone. I looked around at the room, terrified to think of where it would have gone or when it would return. I stood shivering in the bathroom for almost an hour after the water grew cold before I gave up on the creature returning.
Rolling my eyes, slightly amused at how little they realized had happened, I trudged out and back to my own room. I dressed slowly, my mind drifting to the night before. Barely registering my mother's presence, I was mildly startled when she spoke. “Now, today you will meet a lovely boy. You will be charming and succinct, not you normal harsh and sour self. You will smile and giggle, and bat those pretty caramel eyes...” I blinked confusedly at her statement, thinking to myself, his eyes were purple. Then I realized what we were talking about, though like most conversations, it was one that involved little talking on my end. I preferred it that way. Nobody ever liked what I had to say, so over the years they figured out that they should stop asking.
Today was supposed to be a lunch function with the other families in the neighborhood, complete with a barbecue, karaoke, and a movie shown in Mathew Robinson's giant basement den that sported a large projector and an island of pillows and blankets. Muttering something about homework, I shuffled back to my desk and stared at the open book, trying to comprehend the words on the page. The day slipped by slowly, my mind always going back to the night before. If only someone else had been awake to see, to help me process what happened, maybe I could think. Instead, I found myself staring outside most of the days, at Mitchie's doghouse. He poked his head out at some point, looking up at me, giving me a few barks and a tail wag. He must have been cowering inside when the shadow came.
Eventually, the time came to emerge from my room. I changed out of my sweats and into “more appropriate clothing”. Lunch went by in a blur, one of the things I could stomach, since all the mothers loved to cook and I loved to eat. It was set up in the park nearby my house, like a buffet. There was polite chatter and inquiries about my schooling. I was studying to become a teacher, settling on English. They were impressed and stated that that choice was very appropriate and thoughtful. The urge to roll my eyes was strong but I bit back my remarks. After lunch, and the group scattered for a few hours before the movie and other festivities.
I stood in the living room, waiting for my parents to leave so I could slowly walk to Mathew's, make an appearance and then slip back out and home before too much socializing was done. The room was quiet and eerily calm. The rush was over and nothing could be done. I finished my paper in an attempt to pass the time. Suddenly, the need to have something to do engulfed me. I had flipped through a book or two and now I was contemplating watching a movie, though I wouldn’t want to since I had to go to Mathew’s anyways. I stood still, listening to the ticking of the clock, counting the seconds. Something told me this was odd but I couldn't find a rationale to support it. Stretching periodically, moving my stiff joints, I stared at the wallpaper. It shimmered with metallic paint, which made me dizzy as the headlights from passing cars reflected off of it. Walking closer to the wall, I inspected the different facets of the craft. I had never noticed the soft velvet etched in or how the paint shifted in color. It reminded me of a watercolor that sat in the main office of my old school. Reaching out to inspect it, pieces of the paint chipped off and stuck to my fingers. It was falling apart, slowly, unnoticed to the casual observer. Much like everything else in the house.
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