Tussle With A Shadow
The Long Hallway
This is a story that comes to mind about when I was younger, living with my mom. Every night, we would sleep in the same room, where the door leading to the hallway was before the bathroom, so the bathroom was across the hall.
I could peer into the dark hallway if the door was open, and if I really wanted to — but hardly did.
And in the nighttime, the hallway would be almost pitch black except for the small glimmer that would shine on the door at the end of the hallway.
And ya know, when the door was open, the thought of looking down the hallway wasn’t too appealing for me.
Some nights, as strange as this sounds, whether it be in a feverish sort of state, or reality, this bubble figure, that was more of a clouded shadow figure began to appear at nights…
We would at some nights, run straight at each other, almost as if he was mirroring me, agitated, angry, ready to go. Yet, no face, no expression, just the weird memory of this odd figure.
One moment, we finally agreed, on what — still not too sure, yet the scene switched, after a period of time, it felt as if our consciousness were now outside walking. Reconciling as old friends would.
To this day, not sure who or what this was, but he may be me.