My Mother's Shadow

Chapter Two: Sage and the Shadow

Rosemary couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She'd woken from her strange dream two days ago already and still she couldn't get rid of the anxiety it'd given her. She tried to dismiss it as a dream, but deep down, she felt it was something more.

Reaching into the pocket of the coat she'd worn to the cemetery, she read the note aloud again; "The story of a shadow is locked within this Sage."

She wondered if the creature in the corner was the shadow. If her mother knew since she was seven, why didn't anyone help her? How many times had she asked for help and been denied because "the bogeyman isn't real."? Was the bogeyman real? Was the necklace helping her see what happened to her mother? How did she activate it?

She shook her hand and reminded herself that the dream was just a dream. Demons aren't real. She knew her grandmother was serious. She wouldn't be welcome if she mentioned the demon again.

Her grandmother somehow blamed Sage's belief in demons for her death.

She decided to look through one of her grandmother's photo albums. The dream had sparked a curiosity about her mother's childhood. She wanted a reminder that her mother had lived there.

Rose sat in the living-room opposite the Christmas tree and opened the album. She flipped to a section titled "90's". The first image on the first page is one of her mother in a green Santa hat and a red dress labeled, "Sage's 14th Christmas," she flipped through the pages, seeing images of her mother throughout her first two years of high school, the dances that she went to and friends that she made. She stopped on an image labeled, "Sage's 16th birthday". It was a picture of her mother and father. Her dad, 16 years old, smiled as he wiped icing off her mother's face. Rosemary smiled.

"Oh, I remember that." Cecile said, looking over her shoulder, "Your mom was so mad at me for getting that one."

"I'd be mad too. It looks like a private moment," Rose told her.

"But they looked so sweet. From the moment I first saw them together, I hoped your mother would marry your father. He was always such a sweet boy."

"Was he?"

"Oh, yes. Your mother wanted to paint that room when she was fourteen. Guess who did all the painting?"

"I would have guessed, grandpa."

"You would have been half right. Of course, Daniel went in and fixed..."

Her grandmother's voice faded as fresh voices entered the living-room.

"Sure, but you're doing all the work, Sage. And if it doesn't come out right, well, that's just how your room will look." Rosemary's grandfather, Daniel James, exclaimed as he entered the house with two buckets of paint. He looked younger than he was, but if her mother was fourteen, then her grandfather would have been around forty-five.

The couch Rosemary had been sitting on disappeared. She now sat on the floor. Across from her, the Christmas tree wasn't decorated yet. School pictures of her mother from childhood to early adolescence lined the wall beside her. She stood to look at them all.

"Thank you, daddy. I promise I won't mess it up." Sage said, kissing his cheek. Rose turned to watch the memory. This time the monster followed far behind teenage Sage, but it seemed to mirror her movement.

"If you do, I'll help you," The man whispered. "I just wanted your mother to hear me being stern."

Sage laughed, taking one bucket from her father and carrying it up the stairs herself. The creature flinched and stumbled backward. Sage glanced behind herself, toward the monster, but her eyes never quite landed on it. She couldn't actually see it, but she knew where it was. Could she feel it?