the shadow boy

The boy hears his friends talking about shadow men all the time. Of course, it’s always in the context of the paranormal. The creepy supernatural humanoids providing content for all the ghost hunting channels on YouTube. For him, shadow men are just normal. Hum drum dark figures, always on the periphery, moving in and out of his life.

His parents got divorce when he was very young and his mother was a devoted user of dating apps. If there was a way to connect with men in the tri-state area she knew about it and was an eager participant.

When the boy thought about the dizzying number of men that had been in his mother’s mouth it made him… well, dizzy. When on a first date she would always order a salad at dinner because she knew she’d be getting her protein later on that night. Sometimes twice. Typical of a cute women raised in an ugly family.

You would think that he would hate the men that used his mother like that, but he didn’t.

He instead reserved his loathing for the men that actually felt genuine affection for his mother, because he knew what their fate held; she would wreck each and every one of them.

He didn’t understand how they could be so naïve. He was just a boy and here they were grown men and he could see it coming and they didn’t. When he opened the door to find one of these creatures clutching flowers or chocolate he couldn’t hide his contempt. Warning them was useless, so he had to watch the same drama play itself out over and over until his heart grew calloused. “Dead man walking” he would often mutter contemptuously under his breath as they strolled past him into the apartment. The ones that tussled his hair as they walked past, attempting to be endearing, seemingly without a care in the world, were the worst. With their turtlenecks, dress shoes and sincere “I hope Red Lobster is ok” expression plastered on their face. “The last guy, a complete zero, brought over a six pack and weed and fucked her on the couch” plastered on his.

His friends will show him clips of mysterious entities materializing and disappearing just as quickly and they will gasp and scream and admit that these videos keep them up at night and cause all sorts of nightmares. “You have no idea” is all the boy will say on the topic.

His friends will show him clips of attractive women whimpering and moaning and admit that these videos keep them up at night and inflict all manner of fevered dreams. “You have no clue” is all the boy will say on that topic as well.

He was no longer looking for his mother to change her behavior. He wasn’t searching for a father-figure or mentor in any of the many suitors that came and went. He was fine. Better than fine. He already knew what he wanted to be when he grew up.

A shadow man.

“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”

― C.G. Jung