Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26460610-20150603055952

My name is Alex. Just Alex. But I prefer Shadow, but I'll get into that later. I guess I'll start from the beginning. And for the dicks that are asking, "Where else would you start?" fuck you. Just shut up and listen.

I wasn't the most popular kid in school. In fact, the only person who acknowledged my existence was the biggest asshole in school, Karl. Big, strong, but surprisingly pretty smart. You couldn't tell by looking at him, typical dumb-ass bully kind of guy, but he had the highest grades in my class. Anyway, he and my parents were the only ones who ever noticed me. Which is why I was thrown into a seventy-two hour psych hold when they died in a car accident when I was eight.

I remember how they made me feel, but not how they looked or dressed, smelled, sounded. Some fucking asshole thought it was a good idea to drive high. I mean, WHAT THE FUCK! HOW STUPID DO YOU HAVE TO BE! Son of a bitch. I was riding home with my parents from grade school. Joking, laughing, listening to music continues to elude my memory, and the moron swerves and t-bones us. I remember hearing a scream, something shatter, and a screech. The next thing I know I'm standing over my parents, mutilated bodies, watching as my dad bled to death in front of me. My mind couldn't take it. I was only eight. I broke down. Cried and screamed and pleaded for my parents to get up and take home so we could watch our favorite show that night. But they never moved. I still don't know what the police did with the bodies. They took me away and watched me. Watched me start talking to Toby. "An imaginary friend" as the liked to call him. But he wasn't. He was just one of the voices that started talking to me. The one that pushed me to light the foster home on fire and wait for it to burn me to ashes.

Fucked up, I know. An eight year old trying to kill himself. They put me in a small, empty room with no windows. I went through months of counseling and therapy. "It wasn't your fault," they told me. NO SHIT! I wasn't the one that crashed into and killed my parents! But after two years of medicine and therapy I was back to okay. I didn't make any friends, I tried, though. But it was clear nobody cared about me anymore.

So I was excited at first. When Karl called over to me. I thought I was going to make a knew friend, not be alone anymore. I smiled and walked up to him, hoping to be invited to a basketball game like I'd seen in movies. But that wasn't what happened. No, instead, I was hoisted into the air and stuffed inside a locker. But the worst part was that no one even seemed to see what had happened. I would've even liked it if people had laughed and pointed. That was when I finally gave up trying to make friends. I sat at the back of class, never spoke, barely did work, didn't join a club. Nothing. I was just some fucker's play thing.

-

On my sixteenth birthday I made myself a cake, lit the candle, and sang happy birthday to my self like I did since my parents died. I closed my eyes to make a wish. I wished that things would change for me. That I could finally do something fun, interesting, different. Anything but keep living like a punching bag for an angry bore. I opened my eyes and blew out a single candle. I grabbed a butter knife from the drawer and turned back to my cake. My chest hitched, my heart actually ached, and I almost started crying. Craters were dug out of the center of my cake, icing smeared all over the face of my personal piece of hell. Karl smiled at me, a cruel hateful smile. He spit the cake on the floor and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "That cake tastes like shit." He walked over to me and threw me against the wall. Tears started pooling in my eyes as fist after fist plowed into my cheeks. "Next time I expect a better one." He left the kitchen and I heard the front door slam a moment later.

I sat on the floor, face swollen and bloody. I looked back at the cake, destroyed, and started crying. And then, for some amazingly wonderful reason, I started laughing. I didn't know why at the time, but I liked it. It was better than crying. And then the laughter turned to anger. That anger slowly faded as I punched and ripped at my pillow. I didn't know why I was so mad. But I decided something in that moment. I wasn't going to just take my life the way it was. It was going to change. Somehow.

A few months later, my history class went on a trip to the Rocky Mountains, literally the middle of them. I didn't want to go. But looking back now. I'm glad I did. Because that's how my life changed.

We were staying in a lodge or cabin, it doesn't really fucking matter what it was. It was a log building in the middle of nowhere. Our class was divided in two, boys and girls. I didn't care though. For some reason I hadn't really cared about anything for a while. I was going to sleep where ever the hell I wanted and nobody was going to say shit about it. Mainly because nobody knew I existed.

I tried talking to people, joking with them, even tried joining conversations. And it was like I wasn't even there. I felt anger build up inside me, the same anger I felt on my birthday. The undeniable truth that no one a shit about me. I screamed and punched the wall as hard as I could. But, of course, no one reacted, not even the teacher.

I put on a coat and stormed outside, leaving the door open so everyone could freeze. And of fucking course some asshole guy asked, "Who opened the door?" Again, I screamed. It echoed off the frozen mountain tops around me. At least I knew I existed. Can't have an echo if you don't have a voice right?

I wondered around the cabin, lodge thing for a while, ignoring the cold. And as if the mother fucking universe was waiting for a cue, it started snowing. Harder and harder by the second. Within a minute I couldn't see a foot in front of me. Somehow I found a cave. Trudging into the black cursing everything. And then I fell. I remember thinking that I was just destined to live a shit life as I fell. I hit the freezing stone and slipped off an edge.

When I opened my eyes light was barely shining from above. I had fallen into a cavern about fifteen feet deep. The walls were covered in ice, noway to get up. Something moved behind me and I blacked out. The next thing I know I'm back at the cabin and one of the girl classmates was looking down at me. "Are you alright? You have a pretty big cut on your chest. What happened?"

I was in shock. She was actually talking to me. ME! "I think I'm-" I froze. My voice was different. It wasn't weak and squeaky anymore. It had gotten deeper and more powerful. I sat up and rubbed my head. Completely forgetting about the girl. I didn't feel the same. And I couldn't figure out what it was until a few days later.

-

We were leaving the mountains, hiking back down to the road where we parked the bus. It had been brutal trying to get up to the cabin. It was so much easier going downhill. We all stopped to take a break, three other people coming up to talk to me. I couldn't figure out why people were finally acknowledging me. It was so weird but I liked it. I remember thinking that I was like a shadow only a few days ago. And as those thoughts ran through my head, the three people I had been talking to started looking around confused. "Weren't we just talking to someone?" I became really confused. Were they joking? Or trying to be mean? I didn't know. But the boys walked away and continued talking. I felt crushed. They were finally paying attention to me, just to be assholes! I looked around for the girl that was looking at me when I woke up. I asked her to look at me, but she didn't. So I asked her to say something, but she acted like she didn't hear me. That's when I realized what I had been feeling the last few days. I was happy. I was finally fucking happy! But now it was gone. Everyone was acting like they didn't see or hear me! But I didn't get sad. I got fucking pissed off.

-

I didn't go to school for weeks. But when I finally did people where greeting me and being nice again.

I was so confused and hurt. My classmates had really just acted like I didn't exist. But I was still tortured by Karl. Everyday single day. People would ask if I was okay and said that Karl was an ass. I was starting to feel like a normal kid for the first time in almost a decade. I hung out with people at lunch and free times. They thought it was funny to pretend that I wasn't there every now and then, but it pissed me off.

One day after school I was chased into an alley by Karl and pinned against a wall. "What did I tell you about running you little fuck?" He raised his fist and I shut my eyes. I wished I was like a shadow to him like a was to everyone else. I waited for the stone of a fist to come crashing into me, but it never did. Ever again.

I opened my eyes and saw a confused oaf standing in front of me trying to figure out where his prey went. "I thought I was gonna beat someone just now." I slowly started walking away and then sprinted from the alley back to my home.

For the next few weeks I studied everything I could about shadows. Because every time people stopped noticing me was when I thought about shadows. I found articles upon articles. Like how the ancient Egyptians believed that we were made of two people, the physical person and the shadow person. And how in psychology, the shadow is the part of a person that the person doesn't see in themselves. How it's an alter ego, how it's filled with everything we choose not to do like an exact opposite. And that's when the laughter came back. I couldn't control it. I had just found the answer to all my problems.

Karl paid me his usual morning visit. As he raised his fist I thought, "shadow" and just like that, he looked confused and walked away. I didn't even bother going to school that day. Or the day after. Or the day after. I spent weeks in my house researching and experimenting. I decided to test what I could do. I became richer than I ever thought possible. Millions of dollars stashed in my ceiling. I had powers. And I used them everyday.

Unfortunately all good things come to an end. I was strutting down the street to school, feeling like a king. And then I was tackled. Before I knew what hit me pain was raining down on my face. I could just tell it was Karl. I knew what his fists felt like. I'd know them anywhere. I pushed the massive pile of shit off me and a sentence automatically ran through my head. I wake to the Shadow and embrace its possibilities. Karl looked angry and was looking around frantically. "Where'd you go Shithead! I'll rip your head off!" I quickly stood up, rage coursing through my veins.

I glared at the person that had put me through hell for so long. And when I spoke it came from the shadows. "You'll die today." I didn't even think about it. I stepped into the shadow of the fence beside me and smiled. Karl then saw me and charged. I wasn't worried. His body flew through me like I wasn't there. He crashed into the fence and fell over. So I stepped into his shadow. And I saw everything. His fears, weaknesses, and I laughed. It felt so good, too. He got up and screamed. I shook my head and waved my hand toward the shadows around us. Long, skinny shafts erupted from the darkness and shot toward my attacker. I still laugh at how his body flew through the air as the light drained from his eyes.

From then on I've been jumping from state to state, not often though. It takes a lot of energy to travel through the shadows. And I make the world a better place. I help those orphaned kids embrace their shadow. And dispose of those piece of shit bullies. Oh and just remember I'm always in the shadows. 