Forever this Shade

The Boy at The Bridge

The wind howls, flowing over me and coating my shaking body in silhouettes of shallow warmth. I am shaking violently... head to toe. I'm not shaking in terror though... but I am not cold either.

No, I am angry. I am very angry.

My hands are clenched into fists so tight, my knuckles go white. Heat rushes into my face, causing it to burn red. Shouting echoes in my ears. I scream in frustration through clenched teeth. "You know I'll do it!" I yell repetitively. I can't give up. Lights flash and thunder rolls.

Suddenly, I find myself launching forward at him. The younger boy screams as flesh meets flesh. Blood gushes from his mouth and nose.

His face goes pale as the life is drained from it. I rise to my feet, staring at the lifeless child before me. I turn to see an older boy behind me. His fist is completely bloodstained. A cruel smile stretched from ear to ear.

I glare at the older boy. How could he do that to such an innocent young child? I kneel down and lift his limp soul in my arms. I breathe in deeply, inhaling his soul.

The boy's soul is weak but sweet to the taste... he is certainly blue.

I sigh. I wish I were blue... calm and kind... but no. I am a black- a fleshless spirit who lives outside of time... without purpose. The only time I ever belong to flesh is when murder occurs. Then I dwell within the one who kills, because without me, murder is impossible.

I apologize if I am confusing you with my use of colours. The blacks (and the whites and the greys)... funnily enough... have a much better understanding of colours than what the people of actual colours do. It is too complicated for me to explain, so don't ask me too.

I am not alone in The Dark World though. There are many other blacks too. I am one in thousands.

We all have different jobs. One of the jobs (which I take part in) is to take care of murder...to participate in it. My shift is just about over too. Just one more to go before I can return home.

Shadows shift as the sun goes down. I love this time of day. The sky filled with all of the colours of all people... everywhere. And then... there's the knowing that our time is near... because the hour of darkness is here.

Waves of silent scream/howls only for the ears of other spirits rise up in the stillness of the night. I stand on my tiptoes, joining the chorus that erupts each night only on a full, blood and new moon.

Suddenly, I feel myself begin to melt. "Duty calls," I whisper to no one in particular. And with that, I am gone from the schoolyards.

When I arrive, I notice straight away the setting. A bridge. I see a young man standing on the very edge. Suicide. I shudder at the thought. Still, I manage to force myself to stride forward. I hate suicide. Firstly, it's a miserable fate. But also because I don't just give it to them... but I feel it within myself...

I experience a glimpse of death.

But as I walk closer, I noticed something different about the man. Firstly, he is awfully young. Secondly, he is not human. He, like me does not belong to flesh. But unlike me, he wears white and gold from head to toe. He is a white.

~ The Boy ~

My short life flashes before my eyes. All of those years of saving lives, serving others and absolutely no fun in between. Selfish thoughts flood my mind and hatred blurs my vision. My misery swallows me, making me want to leap of the edge of this bridge straight away... but something catches my eyes.

There. Frozen in the darkness of it's being stands, a black figure... a death... behind me... waiting for it to be over. They will steal my soul from my lifeless body and swallow it without a moment hesitation. I swallow hard. Death. Is this really what I want? Is life really that hard?