The Secret Service: The Wings of Titania

The Mysterious Shadow

Death, the end of life, the final chapter of a book, the end of a lit match.

Philosophers praise it, worship it, and view it from different angles to find more than an end. They say death is an art, an entity, a gift.

But if you get left alone in this world, you'd wish Death had taken you too.

Grief felt like everything the day after the funeral, like the world you knew was but an illusion. Everything seemed grey, distant and strange.

Memories of the crash haunted me. The lights, the screech of the brakes as they tried in vain to stop the oncoming collision, the ear-splitting crash, and the screams. All around, caught in my head, unable to escape. Numerous times I woke up in the darkness of the ward, only with the reds and the ambient glow of the city lights outside for company, all else with silence. Nothing to calm the voices in my head.

At last it all seems clear to me, as I stand at the edge of the surrounding wall, looking down at the silent city below me, the wind blowing around my face. The old me would stopped, looked behind, waiting for others to stop me. I'd see faces of my family flash before my eyes, even though all I wanted was a bit of night breeze. But they're all gone now, and there would be no one to save me, death made sure of that. I closed my eyes, letting go of all resistance. I leapt.

I woke up in the bed with nothing more than a bruise on my knee and two very light puncture marks on my wrist. I couldn't move. A shadow was bent over me, its eyes amber, not malevolent, but sympathetic.

'Not today, Kyle.' It said, brushing back my hair gently with its hand. Its skin was cool, like the surface of metal that's been left for a while in the fridge. 'Live, for there are many who wished for another chance.' A gentle kiss that felt like the touch of ice, and it was gone.

My injuries healed even quicker after that strange encounter. But the marks never did, and got even more invisible after several years. When I was finally released from the hospital, all that was left of it were two silvery scars. Even when I went into high school, that night haunted me, so did the shadow who was its star. It was a question that remained unanswered.

Until I ran into the most popular cheerleader during a spring term lunch break at the cafeteria.