Shadow — Blurt

SHADOWS

Shadow.
To everyone, it meant that little black devil moving the same place with you or maybe a watchman who will tell God how recklessly you've lived your life. Or that plain black version of you that follows you around. Am I wrong? Of course not.
Well to me, that's not a shadow. It simply that thing you've done that you think God can never forgive you for and that it haunts and scares you till the very day you die or luckily go insane and end up in a psychiatric home. Don't arch your brows, That is simply my pathetic life story.

It had been a year since Salma's death and no one would find it funny that I killed her.
"An accident" Everyone assumed. Salma Duru was my best friend, long story short, she stole my husband and I killed her to have my revenge. We were both alone on a picnic, I had pushed her off the cliff and she tumbled all the way down to the feet of the hill. Her brain had splashed on the brown dust and like the evil person you think I am, I had evacuated the place and later reported Salma missing to the police. Then, I thought I was smart for making a clean case out of her death.

It wasn't long before the unexpected began to happen. For a whole month I felt more at ease watching my stupid husband die of heartbreak due to Salma's death. Then like a flaming arrow, my doom visited me. I had nightmares that was in a loop- It played over and over again in my head that sometimes I couldn't help but scream. I saw her_ her head that suffered a terrible explosion and a broken face. Nobody needed to tell me she would stick to me like a shadow and make me miserable.

Therapy sessions only made things worse. It was like them trying to force out the truth I was unwilling to give out. Salma's husband (my ex husband) had also come around to check up on me. Everyone had given up on the fact that I was normal. Each face I saw was Salma's, hungry for my blood.

I was haunted. I saw her in the mirror, in the crowd and everywhere. It was like she stuck around against the wall and ground. Oh, a shadow. I visited churches and clerics, asking for help, they needed answers on the things I have done. As much as I feared Salma's ghost, I feared spending the rest of my life in jail for killing her. No. I feared going to jail and declared a murderer more. Everyone would be very disappointed at me.

Madness was slowly creeping into my system. I watched my hair tangle till it stood strong like scary dreadlocks. Laughter- I laughed when I saw her plain black figure against the wall. This time, with little scary horns at both sides of her head. The calm and loving Salma I knew had grown into a beast in the verge to make my life miserable. She smiled mockingly, out of my mind I pointed at her and smiled too. The onlookers only ran away from me, the crazy woman.

Salma wasn't done yet, and she savoured each moment my sense of reasoning melted to zero. Throughout my days at the roadside and dustbin till I got the psychiatric home and never healed, she stood by watching me in satisfaction of her work.

"You can't run away from the shadow you made."

First published on my Hive Blog