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Shadow
Shadow
“I love him,” I sighed, “that’s why.”
It’s really not that hard. The first time I did it, it only took me fifty-seven minutes.
I remember the rusty sundial he put out in the garden to make sure it was noon. That was the best time to transfer over, you see.
I remember walking across the lawn, blades of wet grass poking in between our tiny toes. It was the dandelion petals who kindly escorted us to the Gnome.
He took my hand- I don’t remember which one, and put it on the closed mouth of the Gnome. “Go ahead,” he urged, “Open it.”
So I pried the mouth open. And what I saw was…
His teeth, rotting with decay. His gums and his tongue, bearing the color of murky and aged red.
“Go on,” he said, patience obviously forced, “Go in.” I stared into the atrocious consumer. Excitement filled me up to the brim. It bounced off against my colon and rammed into my diaphragm. It shot off from my aorta and blocked every single vein and artery in my body.
So this is what you do.
1. Step in.
That’s it. Once you are completely inside the Gnome is when it eats you up. The only catch is you have to walk into it with or against your own will. That’s all.
So I stepped in and watched the walls close in on me. The space between my raw flesh and his red gums grew smaller and smaller…
And in an instant, all that was within sight was an intense glow.
But…no, wait a minute. This raises a morbid question.
Is everything else bright because I have become a dim shadow? Or is everything really as dazzling as it seems?
I dare not guess. Who am I to freely declare my mere opinion and render others’ cognitive abilities? I dare not say. Who am I to desire a condition so deeply then doubt once in the process? I dare not. I dare not.
Today, I am able to follow him around. When he raises his right hand up to stroke her head, I raise mine to stroke that of her shadow. When he leans in to plant a kiss on her cheek, I lean in to do the same.
I disappear at night. And I no longer do things according to my own will. Heck, I no longer have a will.
This is what it has come down to.
I have become his shadow.
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Although readers should comprehend this story through readers’ response, here’s the process it took me to write this piece.
These are the elements I wanted to incorporate in my story.
- The psychoanalyst view of the author
- The culture the author lives in
- The age of the author (and topics that people of similar age talk about)
- Fantastic elements of magical realism characters take as if real
- The mystery of short stories
- The way magical realism stories don’t always follow chronological order
What Shadow Says About the Author
“His teeth, rotting with decay. His gums and his tongue, bearing the color of murky and aged red.”
If you walk along any street in Myanmar, the country I live in, it’s really hard to miss someone chewing betel nut. Bus drivers, taxi drivers, random pedestrians- male or female, chew betel nut in Myanmar. And the chewers’ mouths are…not so pretty. I wanted to incorporate the cultural element that had influenced me all my life in my story.
“‘I love him,’ I sighed, ‘that’s why.’”
“Today, I am able to follow him around. When he raises his right hand up to stroke her head, I raise mine to stroke that of her shadow. When he leans in to plant a kiss on her cheek, I lean in to do the same.”
“And I no longer do things according to my own will. Heck, I no longer have a will.”
I am 15 years old. I am an Asian teenager. I have heard so many stories about girls my age degrading themselves, through words and actions, just to get the insincere and temporary attention of a guy that they like. This is a sad situation- both the girls not respecting themselves enough and the guys taking advantage of that. (Disclaimer- this does not apply for every single girl and guy.)