Freedom for the Shadowed

Mara first noticed something was wrong with her shadow on a Tuesday morning.

She was brushing her teeth, half asleep, when she reached for the towel hanging beside the sink. Her shadow stretched across the bathroom wall, long and crooked beneath the yellow light.

Mara lowered her arm.

Her shadow did not.

For three quiet seconds, it remained frozen against the wall, one dark hand reaching toward something that wasn't there.

Then it snapped back into place.

Mara stared at it.

"Okay," she whispered.

The shadow copied the shape of her mouth, but of course, no sound came out.

She blamed the light.

Shadows were simple things. They followed. They stretched. They disappeared in darkness. They did not think, and they certainly did not hesitate.

But hers had begun doing both.

Over the next few days, Mara caught it making tiny mistakes. It turned its head before she did. Its fingers moved while hers were still. Once, while she sat completely motionless at her desk, she watched it slowly lift one hand.

Mara held her breath.

The shadow pressed a finger to its lips.

Shh.

She stumbled backward.

The shadow stayed exactly where it was.

And for the first time in its entire existence, it realized it didn't have to follow her.

Mara didn't move.

Neither did the shadow.

They stared at each other, although the shadow had no eyes to stare with.

"What are you?" Mara finally whispered.

The shadow tilted its head.

Mara didn't.

A cold feeling crawled up her arms.

She stepped toward the wall, slowly raising her hand. This time, the shadow copied her. For a moment, everything felt normal again.

Then Mara lowered her hand.

The shadow kept its raised.

"Stop that."

Its fingers curled into a fist.

Mara ran from the room.

For the rest of the day, she avoided looking down. She kept every light off and the curtains closed, wrapping herself in darkness where her shadow couldn't exist.

At least, that was what she thought.

That night, Mara woke to a faint scratching sound.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

She sat up and reached for the lamp beside her bed.

Light flooded the room.

Her shadow was gone.

Mara spun around, searching the walls and floor. Nothing followed her movements.

Then she saw it.

Across the room, a dark figure stretched beneath her bedroom door.

It wasn't attached to her anymore.

Slowly, the shadow slipped through the crack.

Mara jumped from bed and pulled the door open.

The hallway was empty.

Except for two words written across the wall in black:

I AM FREE.