My Short Stories

The Coffin Greets the Blinding Light of the Past

If it weren't for our sometimes similar shapes, it would be forgotten that us shadows are humans, too. They don't like to face that fact, so they avoid facing us.

Today my human decided to walk to the gym again. A clear sunny sky blanketed the world, forcing me to hide under their legs. They walked along a long sidewalk interrupted by the roads and their advertising cars. The path and it's remnants of the sun stung me, but I appreciated those dark cracked interspersed throughout.

The inside of the gym was a mockery of the outside. So many Suns tried to eliminate my existence, and for what? We are the future of these gym goers in shadow form, and yet this place forbids them to see us?

When they sat down on the bench press, they stared, with torment in their hooded eyes, down into the ground for a bit. I wasn't there. The gym had concealed my existence, relegating me to only a thin outline under whatever grooves existed between the human and the bench. I knew they were looking for me, just like everyone else here sought for their partnering shadow.

They quickly gave up and started to press against a weight, as if to show the whole world their strength. It boosted their confidence as if what they did wasn't just a warmup for the test to come. They loaded more weight, pressed and pressed, but they quickly fell short of their own goals. The gym goers and I could see them with their head pressed down into their hands, arms towering from above their quadriceps. This was that gymnastic expression of failure, recognized by everyone in the room, but their expression masked the underlying truth of their torment.

Soon thereafter, they relegated themselves to the center of a pseudo-grass field surrounded by imperfect mirrors. From beneath and slightly behind my partner, I could see their incorrect reflection: a taller, slimmer human, perhaps more ideal to how they wish to appear. They had been working out here for over a year now, and the last moment of progress had been seen months earlier before the coming of spring.

They grabbed a nearby bench for their next exercise... no, I could see they have given up now. Their eyes powered off, and their head seceded back into the towering arms.

...

For this brief moment engulfing my partner's world in a shroud of darkness, I knew I had an opportunity to live.

This human is a failure. They work and work to check a pre-checked box in their simple mind, then they go home to celebrate by writing about their failures. Then they come back next day, or the day after, or - more often than that - the week after, to waste our next hour of the day.

There is no choice but to take the life away from them and use it better for myself.

...

When they opened their brain's eye, the gym was empty, lights still glimmering and all. The sounds of machines vanished with nobody being there to use them. They stood up to look down on me, the shadow who could now bend the rules and exist in the light.

First I showed them their friends and family. "This is what you want them to see, isn't it?"

The human hesitated, then spoke. "If they see it, then..."

"...then what?"

"...then they'll see my failures."

Now I was confused. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"It needs to be forced onto me so I can be pitied for it." Ironically enough, they frequently like to imagine they're a God.

I know where all of this is going. It's going to force me to abandon this person and let them die. But I am tired of watching this story of ignorance and pity, and I have a story of my own to live too.

"The crowd began to cheer them on. "Start taking pride in this for once'"

"But this isn't what I want." They stopped the crowd for me.

One of their friends stepped forward. "You mean you want to remain in the shadows? Until some angel comes down to save you?"

"I guess so."

"Fine." The crowd all but vanished. The brave friend let a few other people remain. "Is this what you wanted? Did you want to fail all of your chances with them?"

"Of course n-"

"Then why do you think you failed? Angels aren't real. Or maybe they are, but they won't waste their time with you. You want them to pry open into your head and force you to uncover how you feel?"

"Yes! You've seen me all these years. You explored with me in the dried up reservoirs deep inside my eyes at night. But you've left them empty for far too long now, and all I want is someone else to do it for you. Isn't it better this way?"

"Have you ever tried being honest about how you feel and how you can't cry in front of them?

A distant, unrecognizable voice could be heard from all corners of the room. "...hey, excuse me..."

They continued "Don't you see the irony in being honest like that".

"Are you o-" Their brain's eye shut.

...

"-kay?"

When they opened their eyes, the gym was packed, lights still glimmering and all. The sounds of machines erupted for a brief moment, then settled back down after the arrival of realization, with crowds of confident gym goers winning their fight against gravity.

They lifted their head from inside their hands atop their towering arms, and stared into the imperfect mirror in front of them. Standing behind them and on top of me was one of those confident gym goers. His posture was prideful and imposing, brighter than any sun this gym could house.

They looked into their hands, now stained with a few tears. They realized how close they were to crying, and they weren't sure how to feel. I knew they wanted to cry, but not in a public setting like this!

"Yeah, I'm alright, just sweating real hard that's all."

"Awesome! Have a good workout." They exchanged a fist-bump, and that was the end.

...

Tomorrow is finally here for me to live my story. It was worth abandoning them, since, in a way, I saved them too. They are alive and exist within my newfound memories, where they rightfully belong, so when the coffin greets their blinded corpse, maybe then will they have finally found me in that darkness.