The sun streaked through the gap of the curtains that morning. The air within Marcus’ room made his skin prickle as he stretched his muscles underneath the comforter. A gentle hum from the air conditioning ceased, and the room fell still. Clothing had been strung around the room like careless lies. Coffee cups littered his desk from nights spent cramming for exams. The smell of stale food from the night before wafted from the wastebasket next to his computer desk. At the foot of his bed stood a shadow.

It took Marcus a minute to register the figure, and when he did, he sat up slowly. The shadow didn’t move while Marcus fumbled for his cellphone sitting on the bedside table. No, no, no, no, I can’t have one of these. Marcus took a picture and sent it to his friend, Will. The shadow, present in both the picture and at the foot of his bed, remained motionless. It stood at a good six feet tall with gangly legs and arms. Its torso bulged awkwardly forward and drooped down towards the floor, and it had an uncomfortable-looking slouched back.

Marcus got out of bed with caution and tiptoed over to his disheveled dresser. The shadow turned to face him as he moved around the room. Can it look at me if it doesn’t have eyes? What it did have was a mouth that was stuck in a permanent frown and blotchy grey cheeks, but no eyes. He grabbed some clothes and began to take his pajama pants off before he hesitated. I don’t want this thing potentially looking at me while I get naked. Marcus shuffled into his disaster of a bathroom to change.

Marcus had heard and seen these things before, but he never thought he would end up having one himself. Hadn’t Patricia had one before? Marcus slid his shirt over his head and heard his phone buzzing from the other room.

 ~

            It was a bright day in April of last year when Marcus asked Patricia what her textbook was about for her intermediate psychology class.

“Shadow people! You know, those things that like to pop up now and again without asking and remind you how awful of a human being you are. They’re the worst.” Patricia brought her latte up to her face and rubbed the mug against her cheek.

“Keep your voice down! Someone could hear you.” Will said.

“What’s the problem with that? We shouldn’t be ashamed to talk about-“

“Babe, stop. Can we talk about this in the car,” Will asked as he rasped his knuckles along the edge of the antique table in the coffee shop. He glanced over to a woman sitting by herself in the corner of the coffee shop. A shadow loomed over her like a ghost haunting something possessed. It drummed its fingers on her shoulder with a grin spread from ear to ear. Its corpse-like physique reminded Marcus of a well-preserved mummy found in a historical museum. “People could hear you.”

Their usual study spot at The Atlanta Grind was lively as always. People settled in large, old leather sofas and at creaky wooden tables worked on homework, screenplays, or their new favorite novels. None of them paid any attention to the three college juniors that were ignoring their midterms with caffeine. Patricia set her coffee on the table and opened her psychology textbook; her scowl read, “eat shit” in the best way possible at Will. Somebody is in the doghouse now.

“Yikes,” Marcus said.

Will rolled his eyes. “She gets like this when she doesn’t get what she wants. What if somebody with one hears you? You’d embarrass them.” He said before glancing back over to the girl with her shadow in the corner.

Marcus shrugged and took a long gulp out of his toddy. “Hell if I know. Never had one myself.”

“Lucky you,” Patricia spat. She looked up from her book and removed an earphone. “But people are afraid to talk about a problem that a lot of people suffer with in silence. It’s a fucking crime.”

Patricia had raised her voice enough for the aspiring writer next to their table to glace up from his work with a worried expression. Patricia mouthed the word “sorry” in his direction before turning her gaze back at her psych book. Will knocked the wood of the table several times before taking a final sip of his triple espresso shot iced coffee. He rose to his feet and motioned for Marcus to join him in leaving.

“Well, while you get down in the dumps, I think Marcus and I are going to head back to his place. Head that way if you want.”

“Whatever,” Patricia said as she shoved her book in her face. The title read Your Shadow and You.

~

            It’d been a few months since it first appeared at the foot of Marcus’ bed. He checked his phone over and over again while he waited for Will. The shadow stood poised several feet away from him next to the big glass refrigerator filled with pastries. He thought it would have disappeared by then, but it hadn’t. Marcus texted Will to meet and catch up, but what he really wanted was his advice. Maybe he can help me get rid of this.

The Atlanta Grind was empty for a Tuesday afternoon, but the earthy smell of roasted coffee beans still filled the air. A few people were scattered around the place, and one little girl standing in line with her mom stared at his shadow with big round eyes. Her mom took notice and whispered some stern words at her, probably about how she was impolite. Everyone can see it, so might as well let her look, lady. Will swaggered down the sidewalk before breezing into the coffeehouse. He nodded his head towards Marcus before getting in line for his usual. He’s just going to pretend its not there, like everyone else.

            Everybody politely looked away from the shadow next to the croissants and low-fat blueberry streusel muffins. Usually when they first notice it, they stare for a minute before awkwardly shifting their gaze away. A few took no notice at all. One man earlier shambled in for a large black coffee, with a grotesque shadow limping in behind him. It looked like it weighed four hundred pounds and it’s body bumped into several small tables by just waddling into the room. Fat folded over itself on the creature except for some short, stubby arms. Big, droopy eyes ambled around the room while the shadow labored to keep itself standing. The smell that rolled off of it reminded Marcus of an old gym bag that hadn’t been washed in a few months. Everyone’s faces had scrunched up, and one woman even shut his nose with his fingers. The man with the shadow left with his coffee as quickly as he could. Marcus saw his face when he was leaving, and he clearly was embarrassed by his shadow. I know that feeling, buddy.

The few people who were there stuck their noses into their work, oblivious to the world around them. Marcus rubbed the back of his neck and stared into his lukewarm toddy. The shadow followed him out the door, onto the bus, and into the Atlanta Grind with plenty of people around to gawk. He rechecked his phone and went into his photos; several images of the shadow since its arrival flooded his photostream. Can’t it just leave me alone already? Marcus clicked his phone shut to find Will settling into the seat across from him with an Americano.

“Long time, no see bud,” Will said with a smile.

“Dude, thanks for meeting me-“ The sound of the coffee grinder drowned Marcus’ voice out. “I, uh, I don’t really know what to do about this shadow.”

“What?” Will asked.

“I don’t really know what to do about-“

“What?!”

“I said I don’t know what to fucking do about this shadow!” The coffee grinder halted during the middle of his sentence. Everyone in the small coffee shop stared over at him, and one woman gave an uncomfortable cough. It took several seconds for everyone to pretend they didn’t hear anything too personal, but Marcus’ cheeks bloomed a bright red. Will leaned forward in his chair and clapped Marcus on the shoulder.

“Way to go bud, now everybody knows you’re insecure about it. But I don’t know what to do about it either, man. I’ve never had that um, issue before.” He whispered.

“Didn’t Patricia though? You have to know something about it after dating her for so long. I just want it gone.”

Will rubbed the knuckles of his left hand and then drummed them on the table. “I mean yeah she did, but I wasn’t comfortable talking about it. That and we broke up around the time it showed up again, so I really don’t know anything about them. Honestly, why didn’t you ask her? It’s not like you two aren’t friends.”

That was a good question. They had all been friends since they were nine, but after Will broke up with her, it was a little awkward.

“I don’t know, dude. You’re my best friend, so I thought I’d come to you first.” Marcus said.

Will leaned back into his seat and sucked on his bottom lip. This was his signature look for deep thinking ever since they were kids. The look also usually followed with some sort of wisdom, despite his laid-back demeanor.

“Have you tried ignoring it?” He said.

Or… he could say something stupid.

            “Oh, wow. Thanks for that, Will! Don’t you have some sort of wise advice for me?”

“I’m serious! Just ignore it or try to wish it away. Maybe it will leave,” Will said. He drummed his fingers on the table before taking one last sip of his drinks and got up. “Listen, keep me posted on how it goes. It’ll probably go away on its own and honestly? I’ve seen worse. I’ll see you later, alright?”

Right, seen worse. Got it.

            Will took his leave while Marcus remained at the table. He took a sip of his cold toddy and winced before shoving it across the table. The shadow remained at its spot across the coffee shop. Marcus ran his hand through his hair before he rose from his seat and took a quick exit out of the coffee shop. The cold air of December bit at Marcus’ bare face; the smell and sounds of five o’clock traffic assaulted his senses. Marcus found himself walking towards the direction of Patricia’s apartment, and neither himself nor the shadow stopped him.

Is it that big of a deal? Anybody can get them.

            Marcus tried to think about the times he saw other people with shadows. His mom always told him growing up not to stare because it was unbecoming of a young gentleman. He saw them following adults around supermarkets, teenagers loitering at the mall with their friends and the occasional dog walkers down the street. All of them looked different. Some of them were large and lumbering giants while others were small, conniving, impish creatures. Once Marcus saw one watching his mother as she sat in the living room after one of her fights with dad. It loomed in the corner of the living room while she fought against tears and sipped on hot tea. It was tall and lean like his dad with bright white slits for eyes and a sharp-toothed grin.

Why me? Why now? Marcus glanced over his shoulder to find his shadow stumbling close behind him. Anyone that passed him on the street stared at the ground, at their phones, or too engaged in conversation to be bothered by Marcus or his unwanted companion. It’s polite not to notice, but why did he feel like he was being judged? He turned another corner to see a girl being followed by a shadow of her own. She had hot pink earphones in her ears, blaring something with heavy base, and her expression was empty of any emotion whatsoever. Heavy dark circles lined her eyes, and her hair done up in a poorly kept ponytail. Her shadow didn’t limp around as much like Marcus’, but instead hovered slightly above the ground while it followed her every move. It looked almost exactly like her save for the fact that it was a shadow. The same messy ponytail, same eyes void of emotion, and the same hot pink earphones. They passed each other without a second glance; their shadows did the same.

Marcus pulled his phone out of his pocket once he reached the door to Patricia’s apartment to ask for the door code and a visit.

“Sure thing,” she said. “ Haven’t heard from you in a while. About time you came to see me!”

Patricia’s apartment was sparkling clean compared to Marcus’ own. Sheets of paper sat in neat stacks on the coffee table, and the floor was spotless. A small collection of tea candles caused the living room to smell like lavender and vanilla. Both of these scents Marcus’ knew to be two of her all-time favorite smells besides expensive men’s cologne. She swung the door open with a smile before sliding into her kitchen.

“Anything to drink? I’ve steeped some sweet tea in the sun earlier, or I could make you some coffee.” She asked.

“No, thank you,” Marcus answered. He was too preoccupied with his shadow settling near her television. Patricia fumbled around in the kitchen before she sat down into her big, falling apart armchair adjacent from her mismatched couch.

“I see you have a new friend,” Patricia said before taking a long sip of her iced tea.

“Yeah, he – her? It. It showed up a couple of weeks ago. Please help me get rid of it. I asked Will-“

“You asked Will? Oh my god, that’s rich.” Patricia laughed into her glass while she looked over at the shadow. She leaned onto the arm of her chair. “Let me guess, he told you that it’s all in your head, and you could probably get rid of it if you went for a run, right?”

“Actually, he told me to ignore it,” Marcus said.

“Jesus,” Patricia set her glass on the table before she got up and strode over to her bookshelf. “You said you’ve had it for a few months, right? Has it done anything?”

“Nothing really, but it does… walk weird? Like it’s got a limp or something. It also hums sometimes and it gets really irritating.”

“Right, one second.” She said. Patricia scanned her bookshelf and began to pull various books. She collected several in her arms before tossing them onto the coffee table. Their titles varied: Sciography & the Psyche: More Than a Gradient, Psychology and the Shadow Self, and Shades, Shadows, & Other Miscellaneous Stalkers. Marcus eyed them while Patricia grabbed a few more basic psychology books. I’m glad it’s so interesting, I guess.

“The thing is, Marcus, is that you’re exhibiting signs of a class B shadow manifestation. Class B shadows tend to say nothing, but symptoms include feelings of dread, lack of self-care, social seclusion, and high levels of stress and anxiety. It also fits the physical description with its gait and hunchback. Do any of these mental symptoms sound familiar?”

Marcus was quiet for a moment. Shit, maybe? He thought back to the past few months. He had stopped cleaning because he couldn’t find the time. That’s nothing. He had stopped working out with Will every few days, but school had really picked up. Everybody does that. School was rough, though. His grades had begun to slip because he didn’t feel like picking up a book, or getting out of bed, or moving. I’m just tired. There’s nothing wrong with me because I’m normal.

“Marcus,” Patricia’s soft voice broke through his thoughts. “When was the last time we ever hung out? Regardless of Will and I breaking up, when did you last see me? What about Will? You haven’t been as social as you used to be.”

“I’ve been busy, okay? Look if you’re trying to tell me I’m nuts or something, you’re wrong.” Marcus got up from the couch and paced around the living room.

“I’m not saying that,” Patricia’s voice was measured and calm. “I’ve got one too, you know. It tells me I can’t do anything right, and that if I sit around too long, then my life will fall apart, and that nobody will love me because I’m lazy. I’m not crazy; it’s just something I live with. You can go to therapy to help cope-“

“I don’t want to cope with it, Patricia. I want it gone! It’s giving me the creeps and I don’t like the damn thing. I thought you would have some sort of solution, but neither you or Will can actually do anything about it.” Marcus said. His voice had begun to shake in frustration.

“Therapy is a solution, Marcus. It’s really helped me and I know it could help you. If you would just listen for one second.”

“Fuck that,” Marcus said. He started for the door when Patricia grabbed his arm. Her face was full of pity, and Marcus didn’t want that. He shrugged her off and took off out the door with his shadow stomping after him. I just want it to go away. The cold winter air hit him in the face again as he left her apartment complex. Before he turned the corner, Marcus looked passed his shadow and saw Patricia standing at the entrance of her complex with her phone to her ear.

~

            Marcus was ten when the door slammed after his father stormed out of the one-story ranch house smacked dab in the outskirts of Decatur for the last time. His thunderous steps could be heard through the poor insulation as he shouted expletives and revved his pick-up truck. The fight that time had been over the kids not being ready for church and the coffee pot being empty. Even a godly man could put the fear of God into his wife and children.

Marcus peeked out from his bedroom to find his sister doing the same across the hall. She shook her head before softly closing the creaky white door. Their mom could be heard from the living room, her voice hiccupping over the slow drone of the morning newscast on the television. Marcus opened his door fast as he could so the door wouldn’t creak and stepped out into the hallway. His older brother whispered a weak “wait!” from behind him, but Marcus was already halfway to the living room.

She sat there on the couch in her church appropriate cream floral dress with a chocolate brown blazer. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a bun but the makeup applied so carefully this morning streamed down her face like claw marks. Marcus was halfway into the living room when he noticed the big, black figure standing in the kitchen doorway. At first, he thought it was his father, returning to tell his mother another thing she had done wrong that morning. But the longer Marcus stared at it, the more he noticed its haziness. He could see through it just enough to make out the outline of the kitchen table behind it, its white slits for eyes trained solely on his mother and its mouth wide open with pinpoint teeth forming a smile.

“Hey, mom, who’s that?” Marcus asked. His mother jumped in surprise from his voice but looked over at the shadow in the doorway.

“That’s um… that’s just a part of me. Don’t worry about it.”

“It looks really mean. Does it talk to you?” Marcus said before sitting beside his mother on the couch.

“Sometimes, baby.” She wrapped an arm around Marcus and squeezed him into her side. Her gaze was empty when she looked at the shadow, almost as if it wasn’t there at all. They sat there for a while in silence while they stared at the shadow, its eyes never wandering from his mother.

“You know something, sweetheart,” his mother said after some time. “If any of these after start following you, don’t let it rule your life. You have to learn to live with it.”

Marcus thought about it for a moment. “You shouldn’t have to, mom.”

“Nobody should have to, but sometimes you’ve got to live with bad things.” She said. His mother then got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. Her shadow moved out of the way as she passed it as if it was trying to avoid all contact with the broken woman.

“Go tell your brother and sister to get ready for church, we’ll be going to the late service after I have a cup of tea.”

~

            Marcus fumbled with the keys to his apartment while his shadow loomed underneath the overhead lamp above the two of them. He burst into his apartment and tripped over a pair of his shoes on his way in. The apartment was an absolute wreck. Laundry was flung across furniture and collecting in piles, both clean and dirty alike. Dishes piled in the sink with the meals of the last weeks crusting onto plates and utensils. The whole place smells a bit like the inside of a gym bag. The shadow hobbled over to the corner of the living room and hovered above a pile of forgotten textbooks and study material.

Marcus sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. He felt in over his head. My apartment is a mess, my grades are a mess, and my life is a fucking mess. His nails dragged down the side of his face, and suddenly everything felt too close. Marcus’ breathing picked up, and then it happened – he snapped. He allowed everything to flood out in that instant. Marcus tossed the cushions of his couch across the room, shouted through clenched teeth, and turned his table on its side. The mess that was his room before he arrived home was then a catastrophe. While he tore the place apart, the shadow in the corner stood at attention.

Marcus ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck. His gaze wandered over to the shadow, and without a second thought, chucked a half-empty beer bottle at it. Beer and tempered glass crashed against the wall like a paintball. The shadow was not phased as it judged relentlessly on.

Just leave me alone already I don’t need you. I don’t need this.

            A knock rasped on his front door just loud enough for Marcus to have heard it over the sound of his racing thoughts, followed by a booming pound.

“Marcus! Open up in there man.” William said from outside.

“Please, Marcus, we want to help.” Patricia’s voice echoed after.

For a moment, Marcus considered just letting them sweat it out. Let them wonder what he was doing behind the locked door. They probably feel guilty anyway.

            “Sweetheart, please open the door.” His mother said.

Marcus’ thoughts halted dead in their tracks. Mom? He unlocked the door and the group shuffled into the disaster of an apartment.

“I didn’t know what else to do Marcus, I had to call Will,” Patricia said.

“And I felt like I had to call your mom because Patricia and I weren’t sure what you were going to do,” Will said in his defense. His hands were shoved deep into his pants pockets while Patricia rubbed her hands together over and over again in between replacing the couch cushions back onto the sofa. They looked like two dogs that got yelled at for chewing on the furniture.

Marcus glanced over nervously at the shadow that loomed in the corner and back to his mom. What is she going to say? Is she ashamed of me? Her eyes measured up the shadow in the corner and then over to her son.

“Like mother, like son. Aren’t I right, Marcus?” She chuckled. William’s eyes widened while Patricia’s mouth fell agape.

“Mom, look I-“ He began.

“Oh don’t try to explain it, you’ll drive yourself mad if you do.” She said. The wisps of her hair floated out of her silvering braid and surrounded her head like a halo. Her weathered hand reached up and ran through his hair.

“ I was talking to Patricia on the drive, and she said she knew a therapist you could see for this – if you were willing.” His mother said. Patricia nodded as she replaced the final cushion back into its spot and took a seat.

“Yeah, but it won’t get rid of it.”

“You can never really get rid of it, Kiddo.” She sighed. His heart sank. Great, so I’m messed up for good. Patricia fidgeted in her seat.

“The therapist I know is really great. Her name is Elizabeth Strauss. She’s helped me through a lot and I think she could benefit you.” She said. “And I think that once you get on track, you could start doing what you used to, like working out with Will. Right, Will?” Patricia shot him a look.

Will quickly nodded his head and crossed his arms. “Of course, I miss you as my spotter, Marcus.”

Marcus was silent for a moment. What if I can’t take it?

“You don’t have to go through everything alone, honey.” His mother said.

Marcus felt all of their eyes on him then, and all of them full of concern. Would one visit really be that bad? The shadow began to quietly hum in its corner of the room.

 ~

            “I’ll see you same time in two weeks, Marcus? I think we can skip a week because you’re doing so well.” Mrs. Strauss asks.

“Sure, I’m fine with that,” Marcus says. Today marks Marcus’ fifth month of counseling for his class B shadow stalker. He signs the paperwork left for him at the checkout desk before waving goodbye to Dr. Strauss. Will and Patricia are probably already at the Atlanta Grind studying for finals, but he would catch up. Maybe they will have finally figured out if they’re back together or not by the time I get there.

It’s scorching outside in the blazing heat of May in the city, but Marcus doesn’t mind too much. When the sun is bright and it’s sweltering outside, it’s harder to make out the outline of the shadow following him in this light. There are days where it felt more present than others, and those days could be pretty rough. Patricia’s shade makes appearances every once and a while too. At least I know she can understand what I’m going through. Will struggles to talk about it at any given time, but he tries to be supportive.

As Marcus turns the corner where The Atlanta Grind lay in waiting, he could smell the espresso and fresh coffee wafting down the street. His stride picks up, and so does the shadow’s limp several feet behind him. While walking up to the shop, he bumps into the shoulder of a girl and knocks off her hot pink earphones. She waves it off with a quick apology and replaces her earphones. Their shadows phase through each other as they pass each other, and both continue on their way.