Every time she woke up in the middle of the night, the boy would be waiting.
When Lana first started seeing him, at the age of fourteen, she got terrified and ran into her parent’s room, pounding on their door and sobbing. Her father came out, looking panicked as she clung onto his hand and led him to her room where the boy was no longer there. After that, her parents checked her in to therapy and psychologists, fearing the worse, fearing that their daughter was going crazy. Lana was scared too. She didn’t want her friends and family to know that her mind was going, that she was seeing things that possibly couldn’t be there, and that there was a boy was waiting for her when she woke up.
When the doctors told them that Lana was fine, that there wasn’t anything wrong with her, that she might’ve morphed the shadows to look like a person, Lana decided that if she kept seeing him, then she wouldn’t tell her parents. She didn’t want to scare them anymore. She was growing up already. She needed to face her own fears when the right time came but her parents still bought her a night lamp to keep the shadow away, she was grateful.
Lana was seventeen years old when she decided to talk to the boy. Every time she woke up, shivering and frightened because she could feel someone watching her, she always turned on the lamp, shedding light into her room and making the boy disappear. Lana decided that she wasn’t going to keep doing that anymore. She wasn’t going to cower in fear; she was going to face it head on.
So, later that night, as she fell into a deep sleep and woke up a few hours later, she ignored the fear clogging her throat and the instinct screaming at her to turn on the light. Instead, she plopped herself on her elbows, looked at the foot of her bed and stiffened up considerably.
The boy was just sitting, hunched over and shaking his head. He looked strange, almost foggy but he was definitely there. The edges of his entire form seemed to be clouded in a hazy black smoke but Lana could see the paleness of his skin and the darkness of his hair. He was wearing a jacket over a plaid shirt and his jeans were torn at the knees. Lana stared hard at him, willing him to disappear but he didn’t.
All of a sudden, the boy looked up and turned his gaze towards her. She yelped and jumped, nearly falling off her bed. She had been expecting a monster but the boy looked human…and handsome. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and a permanent frown on his face; he looked like the kind of boy who had recently gotten his heart broken.
“Four years of seeing me and you’ve decided that tonight was the right time to finally talk to me?” he asked, his voice low and deep.
Lana was shaking. She struggled to find the words. “You—you’re real?”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” said the boy lightly, “I could be real or I could be just a figment of your imagination. I don’t know what I want anymore. ”
“What do you want from me then?” Lana demanded, her fear turning into anger, her paranoia turning into rage. This boy had turned her life upside down, had made her parents think that she was crazy, and had even made her believe that she was crazy as well. She didn’t deserve it.
“I don’t want anything from you, Lana,” the boy said blankly, “Hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I barely remember anything. I…I don’t even know my own name.”
“What?” Lana could barely understand what he was doing there, let alone what he was saying. Her rage and anger turned to curiosity. “How can you not know your own name?”
“I don’t know!” he sneered, standing up and wringing his hands. He seemed taller when he stood. His face was an ugly mask of disgust and fear and his blue eyes were blazing. “I don’t know what happened to me. People don’t even know that I’m here. Actually, you’re the only person who can see me!”
Lana felt something inside her ignite. “And you think that’s a good thing?” she asked.
He laughed. “No, that just makes me more depressed, actually.”
“Because you’re a ghost?” It felt ridiculous saying it out loud.
“No, because it’s you.”
Lana couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe the boy was alive, maybe he was all flesh and bones now, not shadows and darkness and maybe when she turned on her night lamp, he’d still be there, as real as ever. She turned to her nightstand and as she reached for the on switch, she heard the boy say,
“You’re not facing your fears, Lana; you’re only suppressing them.”
She flicked the lamp on and light flooded into every corner of her room. Her heart heavy, she turned around and the boy was gone with no sign whatsoever that he had been there.
.
The next day, Lana was strange. She was jumpy and obviously nervous. Her best friend, Neal Norman, noticed this right away. He kept saying what was wrong or did something happen or if her meds were working. Lana ignored and dodged his questions and kept thinking about the boy, about the boy who didn’t even know his own name. She almost convinced herself that he was following her, that he was lurking in the shadows and watching her every move. She tried to tell herself otherwise, wondering if she really was going insane.
Eventually, Neal convinced her to go with the movies with him, tagging along Cassie, who was their other friend. As Lana packed up her bag and followed Neal to his car, she swore that she saw the boy in the shadows of the trees surrounding the parking lot, blue gaze unreadable but when she looked again, he was gone. As usual.
Neal noticed that she was staring off into space.
“You okay?” he asked. Lana looked at him. Neal Norman was cute with red hair, pale skin and a lean and strong frame. They had met in freshman year when Neal had moved and was the sore thumb sticking out of the group. Lana had been the first to befriend him and he had never left her side since.
“I’m fine.” Lana tried to smile but failed miserably. She wondered how she looked. Her dark hair must’ve been a mess since she hadn’t brushed it properly and her blue eyes must’ve been red with insomnia. She hadn’t slept much last night. Her mind had been running with questions about the boy, making it hard for her to fall asleep. No wonder Neal was trying to take her to the movies; he must’ve been worried sick about her.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He shut his mouth for awhile.
“Are you really sure?” he asked again.
“God, Neal, yes!” She smiled a bit more successfully this time even though her insides were screaming no, she was not okay, she was seeing things, hearing things and believing that a boy was real when clearly he wasn’t.
Neal looked at her, his hazel eyes round and innocent before he nodded.
“Okay. What do you think should we watch? I’m thinking—” but whatever he was thinking, Lana didn’t hear it because she was staring at the trees again, watching as the boy’s lips curled. He was standing there, arms crossed and the shadow around his entire form flickered. Yeah, he was there. Neal just couldn’t see him.
But I can, Lana thought, raising her eyebrows, wondering if that was really a bad thing.
