Shadows

All day, ever since I first noticed them, I have been talking to myself about anything and everything – the laundry, shopping, cooking, cleaning, the snow that won’t stop falling – whatever comes to mind. I speak aloud although I am alone in order to give an air of normalcy to my world. But nothing is as it seems.

At night, in bed, desperate to sleep and forget, I cannot help but feel the cold fingers of fear creep along my skin. Peering into the dark, I watch in horror as the shadows shift and move, though no light shines through my shuttered windows. As they inch towards my bed, I can feel my body drenched in cold sweat. They pause and I wonder if they have smelled my fear. In a flash, they seem to grow and pulse and almost shimmer. I want to be anywhere but where I am, but I am paralyzed with fear. Until I hear a whisper of nothing in the shimmering blackness beyond the edge of my bed.

I leap, screaming. There is no one to hear. I run through a flickering wall of shifting shadows to my door. As I open it, I feel a snakelike movement creeping up my feet. I jump. The shadows fly out at me from all sides as I dart towards the door to my home. I open it, heedless of the snowy night.

Alas, the shadows are not confined to my home. They are behind me, in front of me, within me. Slowly, the vine-like tentacles encircle my legs. I fall into the snow. I try to use my arms to drag myself away, but I feel the icy darkness seep into my skin, taking hold of my heart and squeezing.

Now, she is one with us.