The Day of the Shadows

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I woke up at the crack of dawn. It was one of those confusing wake-ups where I felt fuzzy and confused for a while, which turned out to be okay. Because for the first few hours of the day, I was unaware of the shadow people.

I had some coffee, which helped clear the fog from my brain. About three hours after I woke up, I first saw them.

I was looking out my back window, just taking in the world, when I spotted something several blocks away. My house is on top of a hill. A smaller hill with houses is not too far away, and several blocks away is where I saw them. It was a group of shadowy figures - dozens of them. They seemed to be slowly moving towards my house.

My phone rang, and it was my mother. She lives a few blocks from me, and she told me that her friend who lives nearby died this morning. Mom was sure that the “shadow people” - that’s what she called them - had gotten her friend. But there was no need for me to worry, she said. They were far away and moving slowly.

I was very scared of the shadow people. I thought about them for hours, and, indeed, I could see them slowly moving in my direction.

I worried they would get to my mother soon, but when I called her, she was not concerned. Or pretended not to be.

Around 10:00 a.m., the shadow people had made their way to the foot of the hill in front of me. I could no longer see them because of that hill. And, for a few hours, I was able to focus on other things around the house. I determined that there was a plausible chance that they had stopped or changed direction.

A couple of hours later, I called my mom. She did not answer. I knew they had gotten to her. I was sad and mourned for a time, and when I looked out the window, I could see the shadow people cresting the hill behind my house. They still had quite a way to go to get to my house, but I could make them out better now. They were shadow, yes, but they had faces. Some filled with sadness, some more malicious in appearance. But their dead eyes held nothing like compassion or reason. And they drifted, inching ever forward.

Surely they would stop soon. They wouldn’t get to my house. I heard a door slam from next door, and my neighbor’s teenage son ran out of the house. He was carrying a baseball bat and was screaming. With the speed of the young man that he was, he barreled towards his back fence and practically vaulted over it. I saw him screaming; it was with a mix of glee and menace, but devoid of fear.

He held the bat up high as he ran towards the shadows. He reached them near the top of the hill and screamed and laughed as he swung the bat. He hit one of them, but the bat just passed through it. There was no visible sign that he had done anything. The boy swung again, and again his efforts yielded no results.

The shadow reached out and touched the boy, who simply ceased to be. There was no sign left of him, save for the wooden bat rolling down the hill.

I could lie and say I was not scared. But I was. I thought about leaving, about getting in my car and driving far away. But I looked out my front window, and saw that the shadows were advancing from that direction as well. The same was true on the other two sides of the house. I could not run, as there was nowhere to run.

I sat down at my kitchen table and took a deep breath. They were still far enough away, I supposed. I had some time. So, I used that time to finish up some projects for work, to call some friends and family, to just go about my business. I avoided the windows for a few hours, and was able to pretend the shadows were simply not there.

When it reached dusk, I looked out the window. I could not see the shadows. I opened my back door and stepped outside. They were nowhere to be seen. But I could feel them approaching. The air was cooler than it should have been, and I coughed.

A fever took in an instant with its hot grip. I made my way inside, and sat down again. I felt bad and weak and ached in my bones.

The pain increased over the next few hours, and the coughs became more frequent and intense. It was horrible.

I laid my head down on the table, and fell into a sleep.

When I woke up, I was shivering. The pain was worse everywhere. I looked at the clock. It was 11:30 at night.

I stood up slowly, coping with the pain that shot through every part of my body. I got a beer out of the refrigerator, and took it to the back door. Small lights in path illuminated the rear of my fence. I took a seat in an outdoor chair and cracked open the beer.

I took a sip. It was good and cool and crisp, and I savored it.

A few minutes later, I saw shadowy hand grasp the top of my fence, followed by the indistinct faces. They looked at me as they raised themselves up. I sat and sipped my beer between violent bouts of coughing.

The shadow people pulled their full bodies up so that they perched on the top of the fence. They kept looking at me, their eyes a mix of emotions, from sadness to glee.

I watched.

They jumped from the fence and landed in my yard. They were maybe 10 feet from me. I was scared. But not as much as I should have been. It didn’t occur to me to bargain with them or to ask them to leave. I’d like to say it was because I knew it wouldn’t do any good. And, while that is true, I also just did not want to as the moved towards me.

It was five minutes before midnight. They were a little more than an arms-length away. I finished the last of the beer and set the can on the ground. I looked up to them and smiled. It was a sad smile, but there was some degree of happiness in there. I coughed and spasmed. Every part of me was filled with a sharp, deep pain.

I looked at them and nodded as a shadowy hand reached out.

And while I can’t say that was welcome, I also really can’t say that after this long day that it was not.

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