A Boy and His Shadow, 1st partial revision

Better to have loved...
By Kelly Sorenson

After seeing out the last guests, and waving goodbye to them from his doorway, Adrian felt a chilled breeze behind him, rushing out to mix with the hot and stale August air. What was taking them so long? He watched the men loosen their ties, and the women fan themselves, trying to beat back the heat, when finally they piled into their car and drove off. It was about time.

Adrian turned and marched back in to his cool, slightly darkened home. The yellow plate glass on each side of the door cast dusty streams of light that captured the feeling of late summer outside. Walking down the hallway, he looked at the clock and gave a short, unfeeling laugh: 3:56 PM. The wake had started at 11, and though he knew it was dragging along, he didn’t expect it to drag for so long.

He turned the corner into the kitchen, where he opened one of the cupboards and got himself a glass. He saw something out of the corner of his eye, at the corner booth style kitchen table, but chose to ignore it. Everybody had gone home for the day, so he didn’t want to let this bother him as well. He let the faucet run ‘til the water was its coolest, and slipped the glass underneath the stream. He couldn’t see anything but the spice rack now, but he knew that something was there.

Water. He just needed a cool glass of water.

He lifted the nearly full glass to his lips and drank, and he saw it again. That something. That person. Utter rage welling up within him, Adrian gripped the half empty glass and threw it at the person sitting in his kitchen. The sound of glass shattering and water splattering echoed in his ears, until the person spoke.

"So you can see me."
Adrian’s breathing was ragged for a few moments, but after a few deep breaths, he regained his composure and answered what he thought was a question. "Yes."
The person half smiled and rolled his eyes, as if he’d just experienced some sort of “eureka” moment he saw coming a mile away. This was the chance he’d been waiting for, and he wouldn’t let it slip away. He cleared his throat, trying to suppress a laugh. "Since when?"
"Always."
"So you've just been ignoring me this whole time?"
"...yes."
"Why would you do that?"
"I've…” Adrian paused and scratched the back of his head, as if this would make the answer fall out. When nothing happened, he walked to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’ve always had other people to look at."
"Not anymore, huh?" Adrian shot him a disdainful look, as if to say ‘Honestly? You just said that?’ The person cleared his throat and looked down at the table. "Sorry kid."

Adrian sighed and rubbed his forehead with his right hand, covering most of his face. "...s'fine..." he said, in a cracked sigh.

The person watched him sit there for a moment, excited that they were finally having a conversation, but reluctant to continue having it.
"Must've been a real shock if you're this talkative though." Adrian lifted his head up, as if with a renewed sense of the situation, like he was suddenly aloof.
"Not really. I'm just bored now is all."
"That's what you call it, huh?"
"That's what I call it."

The steadfast ticking of the clock on the wall was all that could be heard in the silence that now dominated the room. The conversation so far felt like one had by old acquaintances that no longer held any interest in each other, but felt obligated to attempt to reconnect.

A Boy and His Shadow

Better to have loved...

By Kelly Sorenson

"So you can see me."
"Yes."
"Since when?"
"Always."
"So you've just been ignoring me this whole time?"
"...yes."
"Why would you do that?"
"I've... always had other people to look at."
"Not anymore, huh?"
"..."
"Sorry kid."
"...s'fine..."
"Must've been a real shock if you're this talkative though."
"Not really. I'm just bored now is all."
"That's what you call it, huh?"
"That's what I call it."

The steadfast ticking of the clock on the wall was all that could be heard in the silence that now dominated the room. The conversation so far felt like one had by old acquaintances that no longer held any interest in each other, but felt obligated to attempt to reconnect.

"You've always been able to see me?"
"I don't like repeating myself."
"Sorry, it's just weird."
"What's weird is somebody following you for no discernable reason. Everywhere... every day."
"True. You've been very understanding, it seems. Even now, you're not even interested in finding out more about me."
"If I were interested, I would have asked a long time ago."
"But now I'm all you've got right?"
"..."
"You said so yourself. You've always had somebody else to look at. Until now that is."
"True. Until now."

The subdued tapping of a finger on a table now joined the ticking clock.

"Fine. Why are you here?"
"Good question."
"..."
"I have no idea. I mean I had kind of a general idea in the beginning, but I thought you couldn't see me."
"What was your general idea?"
"Alright, you have to understand that this was the only conclusion I could come to."
"What was it?"
"That I was your... imaginary friend."
"Thank you and good night."
"Did you think I wanted to follow you around everywhere?"

The tapping finger came to rest silently on the table, and the ticking clock succumbed to the suddenly deafening silence.

"Never thought about that one did you?"
"It never occurred to me no."
"What, you think you're interesting?"
"No."
"That you're somebody worth following?"
"I said I don't like repeating myself."
"Yeah, I've noticed. I think it's fair to say they've all noticed."
"... shut up."
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"..."
"Just now, what was that?"
"Shut up."
"I'm sorry. Did you just repeat yourself?"

A clenched fist slammed onto the table and like a dam bursting, the ambient noise came flooding back. The clock could again be heard with its incessant ticking.

"It's been a busy day for you hasn't it?"
"You could say that, yeah."
"Very eventful."
"...yeah."
"Did you know you were going to lose him?"
"I did, yes."
"Did you ever dwell on the fact that you were going to lose him?"
"No. It wouldn't have helped."
"Did you ever dwell on the fact that you were going to lose everybody?"
"I didn't want to waste my time."
"Your time with them you mean?"
"My time."

Silence began to creep into the room again as he finally unclenched his fist and began to gently rub it. He then put both his hands in his lap, cradling the tender one.

"Would you say you're... naturally selfish?"
"There's nothing wrong with valuing what's mine."
"I never said there was. Certain circumstances however-"
"What good would it have done? Hmm? What good would it have done me to become attached to these people? To be dependent on any of them? If I was going to lose them regardless, it would have only caused pain to ME!"
"Some people would argue that that's the whole point."
"Have they lost those who are dear to them?"
"Dear to them?"
"Yes. It's easy to wax poetic when you're merely an observer! It's simple to offer another your sympathy or condolences when you've never shared the experience!"
"..."
"So yes, it's fair to say I'm naturally selfish. It only makes sense if the only thing I would ever be in my life is alone."

At first, he couldn't tell if he was hearing someone from out in the hall or if it was in fact the person standing in front of him. Suddenly the man burst out in a fit of near hysterical laughter.

"Alone?!" A trace of anger punctuated the word. "That's a hell of a word to label yourself with!"
"It... it makes sense!" Trying to keep a grip on his conviction, he plowed forward. "I saw what was going to happen to all of them. I saw it all happen! They were only there to be taken away."
"Taken away, huh? They were taken from you? Please excuse me for finding your choice of words... contradicting."
"How so?"
"You said so yourself that you never bothered with the trivialities of connecting with any of them. But to flat out say they were taken from you."
"I never did bother with any of that. But I'm still human. It was inevitable that I would-"
"Maybe if you did try, they would still be here."

The thought had always been in the back of his mind, well hidden and under lock and key. To have it presented so clearly, it was like the wind had been knocked out of him.

"It wouldn't have made a difference."
"You know this for sure?"
"There is no 'for sure'. It's a fact."
"What if it wasn't? What if you had control over their destinies? Would you have altered them?"
"That's impossible."
"I think the fact that you're even talking to me would minimize what you consider impossible."
"Y'know, you're right. Why am I talking to you? I've come this far so why should I change anything?"
"Because then you really will be alone."

These words should not have stung him. He lived his whole life knowing he would end up alone so why did it hurt to have it confirmed for him.

He hated it.

To have finally reached the point he had waited for his whole life, and have it be ruined by the one thing he had never fully understood.

It was maddening.

It was as though he had tripped at the finish line and watched as everyone else raced past, making sure to avoid him.

Why was this happening?

He had spent his entire life ignoring this person and for no reason he could think of, he broke the illusion that he was clueless to his presence.

"Why are you here?" His voice beginning to crack, he continued "I never even wanted you here."
"But here I am."
"Why don't you just leave?"
"I think I would if I had the choice."
"Just like them."
"They didn't leave you *****."
"No. They left."
"They did not leave you."
"They're gone aren't they?"
"They did not leave."
"They're not here!"
"They did not-"
"LEAVE! ME! ALONE!"

The figure looked as if it was about to say something, paused, and slowly closed its mouth. Its head slowly fell forward, and hung there, its face mournful as it closed its eyes. A single tear ran down its cheek. The figure silently heaved a very heavy sigh and gradually turned away; looking back at the person it had been tied to for all those years. A look of unexpected fear came upon that persons face as he screamed, just as silently as the figure had become as it now faded into nothing, for him to stay.