Short Stories (Collection)

Seeing Shadows (Pt. 3)

This one got heavy real quick hahahaha

read at your own risk

I walked into the house and locked the door behind me. Throwing my backpack onto the couch, I plopped down and turned on the TV.

I recorded a new episode last night and I had to watch it as soon as possible or else it would be deleted. Before hitting the play button on the remote, my ears perked up at muffled voices. I knew Mom and Dad were home since they work in the home office most of the time.

But this wasn't a friendly discussion. It kept getting louder as if the words were trying to escape the walls. I recognized the situation seconds later. They were arguing again. Normally, it's when I'm not home, but when they start, it's hours before they settle down so I sometimes get caught in heated arguments when I come home.

I buried my body into the and played the show with a louder volume than normal. The yelling was silenced by the cartoon thankfully. As the show played out, the door was opened and their arguing met my ears perfectly.

"Why is everything always a fight!" Dad yelled.

"Because you never listen to me!" Mom hollered back.

No TV show would occupy my thoughts anymore. I could hear their words and felt torn between anger and sadness. Should I be angry at them for fighting? Should I be sad that they are fighting?

Dad's footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. My body tensed at the sound.

"Don't walk away from me!" Mom ordered. A door slammed, causing me to flinch.

I felt tears line the bottom of my eyes, not knowing what to do. Do I stop it? Do I crawl to my room?

When they fight, I stay in the living room until they're done and remake my entrance after, but now they're moving around the house.

I didn't want them to know I was here. They gave it their best to pretend to be happy when I was around. In their minds, I was a happy little girl that was unaware of evils in life. I was more than pleased to play along.

They finally reached the bottom of the stairs and walked into the sitting room. Unlike the living room, the sitting room was smaller with no TV and held the front entrance of the house.

I turned off the television and tiptoed towards the corridor of the sitting room. My hands wiped my eyes to clear my vision.

The windows from the outside had the blinds open, allowing sunlight in. I saw the shadows on the floor. While Dad and Mom pointed fingers at each other, their shadows had turned their back to each other and covered their ears. They would not listen to each other.

I felt a wave of sadness in my body, starting at my head and ending at my toes.

Arguing continued and the shadows stayed the same. Until Mom spoke a few words that froze me to the core and crushed my lungs. "I guess you don't love me anymore."

Dad remained angry and stared at her. The shadow of Dad left the room in anger. Mom's shadow seemed to know that she was correct. She waved goodbye pleasantly.

I was silently sobbing at this point. My cries were stuffed down in my throat, making it burn and my head was dizzy. It was painful to watch, but I couldn't look away.

"I can't believe you," Dad huffed, leaving the room and back up the stairs, following the same path as his shadow.

Mom screeched in frustration, but her shadow waved goodbye to Dad. She began walking towards the kitchen, so I bulleted to the living room. I grabbed my backpack and silently closed the door.

My eyes stared at the ground with frustrated tears. I was confused and conflicted. It wouldn't hurt this much if I didn't see their hidden feelings. Because of being myself, I witnessed the drifting of a marriage. I saw the ending of love.

I collected my emotions, or at least, made it look like I did. Seconds later I scratched my knee up against the wall of the brick house. Looking down, I saw freshly ripped skin with tiny drops of blood forming.

They knew I was a crybaby, so they would believe this.

I opened the door and called for my parents. "Mom, Dad," I wailed, wiping my face. All the sobs that were in my throat escape in that moment. The words replayed in my ears and the actions of their shadows tormented my mind.

"Honey what is it!" Mom called with a worried tone. She embraced me in her arms tightly. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" She asked, panicking.

"I-I fell down on the sidewalk." I hiccuped between my lies.

"I'll get the first aid kit and get your dad down here." She cooed, rubbing my head and leaving the hug. "Dave, Winnie's hurt!" She beckoned him downstairs.

Seconds later, he came down. "What happened?" He asked, frowning at me.

"I fell down." I blubbered, sitting on the couch. Dad came over and sat down next to me. I kept crying, pretending that it was because of the cut. He gave me a side hug as I place my head on his chest.

Mom returned with bandages and water. She sat down on the floor and slowly wiped all the specks off my knee.

Once the cut was taken care of I continued to cry beside my parents as the comforted me. I cried because of the arguing, their relationship, their love. The tears didn't want to stop.

Until today, I never had seen the shadows of such a situation. I've seen the lonely, heartbroken, and grieving, but nothing matches seeing a love crumble from both sides as you helplessly watch.

My parents no longer loved each other but are too scared to admit it to themselves. They won't listen to each other so they bicker and argue hoping one of them will say what they want to hear.