Shadows

I watch the shadow behind me, wondering where it came from, why it doesn't have an owner. Then, I think to myself irrationally, "how come, if there is a shadow without an owner, does that mean that there is a person without a shadow??" But I can't be right. Everyone has a shadow. So why is there a shadow without a person? 

The next day, I walk into school, wondering if I would see the shadow again. I did. But it wasn't the same. Before, it was a fully grown man, with what I believed to be fairly short hair. Now, it was a youngish girl (i couldn't really tell how young) with long hair. I attempt to distract myself from the shadow and try to work, but I find that my mind almost constantly goes to thinking about how a shadow can exist without how can a shadow exist if there is no object blocking the light? We had learnt all about shadows in physics, and the definition was "a dark area or shape produced by a body coming between rays of light and a surface. That meant that there had to be something there to cause the shadow. And yet... there wasn't. So why did it exist? Where had it come from? why was I the only one who seemed to be able to see it? I never saw anyone else gazing at the floor. It made me wonder, was there a ghost haunting me? Was there something I did wrong, and now they were taking their revenge out on me? It couldn't be possible, I haven't caused real pain to anyone. 

Suddenly, one day in my art lesson, a pencil was thrown at me. Right at my face. Then, curiously, it stopped. In midair. About 3 cm from my face. Everyone just stared at me, until I plucked the pencil out of the air and began drawing with it. One by one, they went back to their self-portraits, leaving me to contemplate a different theory to my "ghost enemy". Maybe I had a guardian angel, someone who follows me around, ensure that I didn't get into any trouble, or I didn't get killed. I sure did seem to have a lot of luck recently. But that still leaves the question, why me? What did I do to deserve a guardian angel? 

It didn't make sense. I have never been perfect. I wasn't really popular, and yet now this "ghost" is following me around every day, keeping me out of danger and making sure I don't do anything stupid or reckless. 

The next day, I find out something that really shocks me, I mean it was terrifying and mind-blowing at the same time. I was at school and there was a knife-wielding maniac coming straight at me, screaming my name, yelling at me for something that I haven't even done. All of a sudden, he barrels towards me, aiming the knife directly at my chest. I scream and close my eyes, waiting for the inevitable moment, when I hear a thud. I peek out from one eye, almost scared to see what had happened, but also curious. What I saw was unreal. The man was sprawled on the floor, with his knife in his own chest. Next to him is the ghost, in what I supposed to be a human form. She takes one glance at me, and almost glides away, still leaving me with the questions in my brain. "did she save me, or was it a fluke" I never got a good look at her face, which meant I would never be able to find her again. 

That night, I realise something, she was just a person. No shadow. It was as if her shadow, her ghost, took a real form, making her into a real person, leaving a vacant space where the shadow should have been. Flesh and bones. I thought to myself, maybe I could find her, after all. Maybe I could finally ask. “Why me?”

--------------------------

I have to protect her. Yesterday, someone came too close to killing her. I know I scare her, but I think of us as friends, close friends. After all this time that I've been dead, I still think of us as the best of friends. Of course, she doesn’t remember me when I was alive, but at least I can protect her better, now, in death, than I ever could when alive. Maybe this was what I was born to do, to protect people, especially those closest to me. 

Every day, I drift around, following her. I don’t even know her name anymore, just as she doesn’t know mine. I guess that’s what happens when you’re apart for so long. I know, she’s terrified of me, but I just can’t leave. It’s not my choice, it’s almost as if a magnet draws me to her. 

All I knew is that we used to be best of friends, we used to be so close nobody could separate us. Every day, we would be the two people that would walk around together, arm in arm, laughing at each other's jokes. Now, I almost cry when I see her, sitting alone, eating lunch alone, going home on the bus alone. Always alone, always looking lost. I feel sorry for her. Clearly, she knows that she has lost something important, but doesn’t know what it is. She doesn’t know who I am. I change my form if she sees me. Yesterday I took a massive risk, showing myself in human form, but for one reason only. I saved her life. 

When someone with a knife rushes towards your best friend, only one thought goes through your head. 

“Save them”

So I did.

At the risk of another person’s life.

I swore I would protect her no matter what. So I will.

Growing apart doesn't change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I'm glad for that. 

I hope she will live until a ripe old age, older than me. I want her to be happy, no matter what.