Shadows are all I saw walking back into that place. Everywhere I looked.
Not the shadows that many people are common to, though. These shadows are the kinds of dark silhouettes that reside in the back of the minds of young, vulnerable little boys and girls. These mystery beings hide from the light- waiting for their opportunity. They lay in complete silence.
Complete and total silence: as if, by common idea, they’re not there at all.
But they are.
And when the lights grow dull and the ambience of the outer walls draws a blank, then they will transcend.
Believe me when I say, that the power that these beings withhold is much stronger than most will likely admit.
But they are powerful. They grab at every nerve in your body and rip it apart, like a string between two planes.
They gnaw at your skin, desperate shivers rushing up your spine as they clutch your bones with their daunting, blunt claws and force you to stop.
REMEMBER, they would scream, REMEMBER!
You throw your head into your hands and scream, STOP! PLEASE STOP!
But they don’t.
They never stop.
The voices. You can hear the voices in your head repeating themselves.
Why are you doing this? WHY? Baby?
I’m sorry.
A shrill, glass-shattering shriek pierces your ears.
You try to focus, but the voices keep getting stronger. To the point where it’s the only thing you can hear.
You cry, but not out of fear. You cry because you know they won’t go away.
They never go away.
The shadows will travel. Climbing throughout your delicate, soft brain and leave a massacre in its wake. The memories expand like an incurable tumour, ready to turn you into nothing but another one of them. You can feel them ravaging in wholesome terror.
Then they reach it. That tiny part of your subconscious that contains all of the information on what makes you tick. In a triumphant snicker, they flick the switch and every part of your body starts to malfunction.
Every single, joint, muscle and tendon.
You can’t control it, you can’t say ‘stop’ because you already know it’s too late. The shadows let go, and you are no longer repressed, but the switch is forever locked.
I couldn’t handle it.
I’m sorry.
And as I reached for the glistening blade and shoved it into my chest I collapsed.
Looking up, I watched the shadow glare down at me.
She was as beautiful as I remembered.
Yet, she followed my eyes as I fell to my side
Hers, blue and glossy, filled with tears.
Why? She whispered,
Baby? Why?
I’m sorry, I repeated,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

The shadows consume me and hold me like a small child.
Their harsh growls turn into a calming voice.
Shhh, they whisper, monsters aren’t real.

The End

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