Fatma

I’ve been feeling like I’m floating. I’m constantly daydreaming, maybe that’s why I always see a dark shadow on my grandmother’s staircase. But I’m not scared of the shadow anymore. It feels kind of friendly to me now. The weird, dark cloak of nothing makes me feel like I’m in the film Spirited Away. I’ve never talked to the shadow, but I feel like it understands me. The shadow doesn’t need clothes or words to be happy. It can be by itself until the end of time and it will be OK. But maybe the dark shadow feels lonely, like it needs a friend.

We all need friends. It’s relaxing to know there are people you can talk to about anything. But, sometimes, we just can’t find friends. In my case, no one ever knows what I’m talking about, and it leaves me in a frustrated state. Even though I hang out with a group of associates at lunch break, doesn’t mean I relate to them. Most of the time, I find their conversations drab. The only reason I chill with them is because people don’t pick on me when I’m in a group. If I had my own way, I would just hang out with myself. I’m my only real friend, I guess.

So this is why I’m attached to the shadow. We have very similar souls. I hope I’m the friend the shadow seeks. We both need a friend so we should definitely meet up sometime soon. I see him every week or so—when I drink tea with my Nan. We haven’t spoken yet, but I plan on getting to know him. I have a feeling that only I can see him because I believe in things like that: a spirit world. Maybe I have a special eye for weird forces who need help from the human realm.

Either way, he hasn’t harmed me, yet. And I would like to keep it that way. ♦