One week later...
I sat on a soft velvety red padded seat in the audience glaring up at the stage. My seat was at the top, in the balcony, away from the rest of the audience. The only others near me were others like me. Ripped from our bodies by the shadow, waiting for the chance to get our body back.
A young girl with white blond hair and green eyes walked on stage. She wore a lime green dress that fell just below her knees, pale pink ballet tights and a pair of pink ballet shoes laced up tightly with ribbon. She looked about nine or ten and was shaking with nerves.
The music started. A sweet melody to match her classical solo. She began her dance, her toes pointing, her face trying to force a smile. Step. Arabesque. First position. Relieve. As she danced you could see sweat bead on her forehead, her body shaking from both cold and nerves. Her eyes were darting around the stage.
Finally, as the song came to a close, a single red droplet fell from her eye, rolled down her cheek, dripped off her chin to the dark wooden floor below, dragging her down with it. She lay there, managing to still look elegant, spending the last of her energy sobbing. Shadows surrounded her, pushing and shoving their way towards her. Then the sobbing stopped.
The body remained on stage, eyes gaping at it, but her soul drifted over to sit with me. She looked scared for a second, then sad, then all her emotions mixed themselves into a new one. She approached me and I held her fragile soul in my arms. As I held her she wept. She was to young for this. One of her age deserved more time, time to play, be a kid. But she was like me now, like the ones who made me like this. We were now just ghosts, shadows of who we once were. We are stuck hear waiting for the unlikely event that our body will return so as we can take it back.
We are much like the shadows in the sense that we are without body. You could say were the secondary shadows, the secondary shadows of light. A species that takes form from others and keeps it as there own.

YOU ARE READING
Dark Light
Short StoryJump. Step. Step. Jump. I'm at the biggest dance competition I've ever been to. I'm shaking with nerves, or is it cold. I'm shaking from cold. My heads throbbing and I can no longer hear the music. Welcome to the theatre of dark light.