Shadows

It took me full five minutes to realise I was in my bedroom, face down on my bed. The pillow was freshly cried into. I had mastered the art of muffling nightly screams and sobs into my abused pillow, aware that my brother sleeping in the next room would be worried sick and that my sister-in-law would start a week-long lecture on the importance of bedtime prayer.

This was the fifth episode this week, and I was not surprised. I climbed out of the bed and managed the distance to bathroom where I nearly collapsed on the floor. The mirror reflected back dishevelled hair, crazy, out-of-focus, wide eyes and parched lips on a face wet with tears and sweat. The face has changed, but the eyes have been the same for the past eighteen years. I splashed cold water and let it run down the length of me. The tears kept coming and the breathing refused to steady. The images started playing in front of my eyes as I struggled back to my room. The clock said it was just past four in the morning. I had to go. Now.

I stuffed a scarf in my mouth to quieten the uncontrollable sobs and changed as fast as I could. Half blinded by tears, I felt what I was doing, more than seeing. I threw the scarf back on the bed and tip-toed out of my room. It was dark and silent. I stopped as a stair squeaked under my weight. The snoring from my brother’s room stopped for a few seconds and I stood frozen midway to the ground floor. Five minutes later I was out the back door. I climbed the wall to avoid moving the rusty gate and landed on all fours on the other side. There was an endless stretch of tarred road disappearing in the shadows.

The trembling started again and my leaden legs started protesting. The images hovered in front of me and I started running – haphazard, almost drunken strides. My running nose forced me to breathe through my mouth and each breath was a painful onslaught of chilled air that traveled down my spine as I pounded the road.

I was inside a cupboard which had a tiny crack of light coming through an opening. My knees were drawn tight and I was smiling. Daddy was in a good mood today.

            “Angel, come here sweetheart, drink your milk while it’s hot.”

This was my favourite time of the day, the time when daddy would come back from office and spent time with me. If he was in a good mood, we would even play for a while and he would show me mom’s pictures and talk about the time when he and mom had been on a road trip.

The road took a sharp turn but I kept going straight, into the woods, into the shadows. My breathing was evenly strained now. The tears had left dry salt lines that stretched my face. The woods were silent, too silent, as if the world waited with bated breath to hear my heart’s mad beating and the un-rhythmic crunch of leaves under my strides.

He was smiling and humming a familiar tune.

            “Come to daddy Angel. Where are you?”

He looked about the room once and then his eyes rested on the cupboard. His smile widened. I suppressed a giggle and closed my mouth with both hands. He looked away.

“Oh dear, where is my Angel? Now daddy will have to look everywhere!”

He started humming the tune again, placed the glass of milk on the side table and started searching. He moved in and out of my vision.

The wood was uphill now. My lungs were burning but I kept going. The distance was getting shorter but the shadows were getting longer. I had to keep running. I must not stop. I could not stop. I looked back and saw nothing but hostile trees and twisted shrubs, all mocking at me. Something moved at my right. I knew there was something behind me. A stifled scream escaped my lungs, echoing in the woods. I was panting quite audibly, tears came down faster. It was dark, the darkest hour.

“How will daddy find his Angel?”

He went out of my vision again. I could see his shadow on the floor. Then I saw another shadow behind him. Daddy would call me and I would come out and surprise him the very next time he called. Daddy shadow was bent down humming a tune. The other shadow lifted his hand and I heard a dull thud. Both shadows went down. The glass of milk fell down and broke. I heard the thud again, and again, and again. Was something wrong? Was it another game? Should I sit tight?

The milk had travelled in a white line till the cupboard door, now a crimson line was covering the white line, spreading all the way, so much of it. I should wait for daddy to call me. Tears ran down my face and I stuffed both my hands inside my mouth to stifle my sobs, but I was shaking now. The cupboard rattled a little. A shadow moved again. The other shadow. Where was daddy? I was biting into my fists but my sobs wouldn’t stop. The shadow grew bigger.

There were shadows all around me. The woods thinned. I had to fight it, I had to keep going, I had to keep running. There were screams, and rhythmic dull sounds and it was close, getting closer. I pushed myself forward.

The shadow of one hand was longer. I saw the longer hand. It was a crowbar at the end which was dripping sticky red. He stepped on the crimson-white pool and started walking towards the cupboard. He raised his crowbar hand as he slowly walked towards me. I forgot how to breathe. I saw him, I saw his face. He looked directly at me. I was still not breathing and slowly, he started to float in my vision. He looked confused. He started moving backwards. His shadow grew smaller. My eyes closed and there was loud screaming, not me, not within me. Thankfully, I fell silent – not breathing, not sobbing, soundless.

My eyes were closed now and I was sprinting. A few more strides and I can save him. I will save him from the dull thud and shrill screeching sounds. I had to do this. The shadows were receding. The sky was lightening. I had reached. I collapsed with the cheek pressed to the cold marble.  My hands were fisted around the grass that I had pulled halfway off the ground.  I lay there as my breathing calmed down.

He was humming that tune again and he stopped in front of the cupboard.

He opened the cupboard and we both laughed in joy. He took me piggyback and ran around the room and every time he stopped, I’d say “One more daddy”, and he would go around once more.

I lay there on the cold marble, relaxed now. I had won. I had conquered the shadows. A hand caressed my hair and rubbed my shoulders. My brother had known I would be there. He knew my jogs ended here. He didn't know about the woods or the shadows. He walked me to the parking area. The morning mass was over and a few people stood socialising in the parking area. My brother was dressed in his best suit.

“You came for the mass?”

“No, I came for you.” He paused. “Today’s the day Angel, he will get what he deserved.

Today was the verdict. Eighteen years after the incident, the other man had been tried. The case was presented and the prosecution was very strong, especially with my witness account. After today, there would not be any more shadows, I had promised myself.