I, Terah White, was five years old when I first showed my mother the black figure in the corner of my pink bedroom. It had always been there, in the corner to the left of the closet and to the right of the first window you see when walking through the door; standing tall with white glowing eyes. It had been there for as long as I could remember; always watching, never doing. Sometimes when I was coloring it would tilt its head as if curious and I, being the sweet innocent child I was, would always move closer and attempt to let it draw alongside me. It still never moved, not even to grab the green crayon I had been trying to give it. I was ok with that; I would always hold-one sided conversations with it, taking comfort in its presence whenever the other children would mock me for my oddly colored eyes and fatherless home.
"Mathew pushed me off the swings today", I had once stated, showing the shadow of my scraped knee. It didn't respond, but I swore I saw its eyes flash.
When I learned to read, it became one of my favorite past times. I would always pick a book off the shelf, curl up in its corner, and read aloud. I would point out pictures of things I found interesting or stop for a second to talk about a character I enjoyed. Of course, nothing as strange as a friendship between a little girl and a shadowy figure could stay secret forever; one day while I was reading my mother was watching from the doorway. I hadn't known she was there, but it wouldn't have made a difference anyway; I was still very naive.
My mom had always kept me close; I was her little sunshine and I knew she loved me. She loved me enough to leave my jerk of a father to keep me. I had a very odd appearance from the second I was born. I had white-blond hair even when both my parents had black, and extremely pale skin leaving me to look slightly like a porcelain doll. The strangest thing about my appearance, however, was my heterochromatic eyes, the left an icy blue and the right a pale green; my eyes were what drove my father away. Evan was his name, and he was apparently extremely excited for my birth, that is until he held me. The minute the man saw my eyes he nearly dropped me. Monster was the only thing on his mind and had managed to hold himself together until they got home from the hospital. He went off on his wife, demanding she get rid of the "demon-spawn" as he had dubbed me, saying I was nothing but pure evil. My mother, bless her heart, was in shock at the demands, clutching me to her chest; was this truly the man she had married?
My mother, Mary, had spoken to him in a firm voice saying, "If you want your daughter gone then I'm leaving right along with her."
Evan pointed to the door, "Then you better start packing." Mom did, and that was that. She packed up her things and rented a small, two-bedroom apartment in a small town in Louisiana; far away from her husband. I remember the night she told me all this. I had come home from preschool asking why all the other children had a daddy and I didn't. I was teary-eyed by the end of her tale, blaming myself for ruining her perfect life with my father. She had quickly stopped me from apologizing and said that I stole her heart the minute I looked at her. She said that if he loved her enough he would have loved me too by default. I still feel bad about it. I was the one that made her give up her future with the man she defied her mother to marry. The last time she and grandma Ida talked was right after the whole problem had ensued, and they haven't spoken since.
But my mother loved me anyway and that was just a fact. I looked up from my book at the figure standing above me, who had its gaze fixed on the pages.
"What do you think?" I asked, pointing at an image on the page, "I like the rabbit, he's my favorite." I hadn't noticed my mother's brow furrow from the space in the door frame and continued to talk oblivious to her growing confusion. "The cat's cool too. I wish I could always land on my feet." Its eyes blinked slowly in response before its head snapped up, looking towards the door. My head tilted and I followed its gaze to see my mother had walked into the room. "Oh! Hi momma!" I giggled through two missing teeth.
My mom smiled at me, though it looked a bit forced. "Hey honey", she looked around the room as if searching for a mysterious intruder, "Who were you talking to?"
"Them", I said simply.
"Them who?" she asked, looking around again.
I looked at my mother confused, couldn't she see it? "Them" I said again, this time pointing to the corner I was sitting next to; I always left room for the shadow's 'feet'. My mom looked to where my finger pointed, and an unnoticeable shiver went through her body as the being and her made eye contact; to her nothing was there. I continued on, ignorant of my mother's emotions. "They don't talk, so I don't know their name. I always read to them though, and I show them my drawings! I think they like them." I babbled excitedly, visibly bouncing where I sat.
Mom, who was still looking at the corner, turned back to me, "Sunshine, there's nothing there." She looked concerned now, but this was not enough evidence to put this down as more than an imaginary friend.
I was even more confused than before, Why was mommy acting so weird? I looked up at the shadowy figure again, it stared back. Can't she see you? I willed it to here my question, but the only response I got was white eyes flashing. I continued to ponder while my mother knelt down on her knees. "Honey", she said, catching my attention. "Do you see anything else like... them?" I thought about it for a minute, yes, yes I had. In the graveyard on the way to school, but they didn't look like the being residing in my bedroom. They had actual facial features like eyes, a nose, and a mouth, with an actual body shape instead of an undefined humanoid black mass. Even so, people seemed to walk right past them, brushing their shoulders without apologizing; it had been quite rude of them in my opinion and I told my mother such. She paled a little but smiled.
"Why don't you get your shoes on sweety? We're going to the doctors for a bit."
And me being the child I was simply said, "Ok Momma!"
I remember the doctors visit well. Every agonizing minute spent seated on the bed as I fidgeted, being asked a neverending list of questions. It all ended after what seemed like hours and the doctor pulled my mom outside the room with the door still open a crack, thinking I couldn't hear them.
"She shows all the required symptoms. Has anyone else in your family ever been diagnosed?"
"I don't know about her father's side but my mother used to talk to me about these things she's seeing. She was never officially diagnosed though."
"Well let's be glad we caught it early then. I'll be prescribing the medication Fluphenazine and she needs to take it with every morning and evening meal. I'll also be requesting therapy sessions."
"Thank you."
I hadn't known what that meant until the next morning when my mother made me take some yucky medicine that had my stomach churning. I didn't say anything though and took it anyway, not wanting to upset my mother; she looked stressed enough. Though I didn't know it at the time, I had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and it took a month of taking the awful medicine and going to a therapist for my five-year-old self to realize that what I wasn't normal. While having an imaginary friend might have been common, apparently it was weird to have a figure in the corner next to your closet and being able to see things in the graveyard and sometimes watching them walk down the sidewalk. So, I had stopped talking about them, made it seem like they were gone. I stopped talking about the shadow in my therapy sessions and to my mother; the shadowy being was gone to everyone but me and I was ok with that. It took three years of stomach aches and switching therapists for me to finally be declared cured. Yet, the shadowy figure was still in the corner; watching, observing, thinking.
I, Terah White, was twelve years old when I first heard the being in the corner of my room speak. It had been a particularly hard day at school with Matthew Hues. He was my main tormenter; had been ever since we first met in preschool and the boy ruined the finger painting I was making for my mother. It happened in the cafeteria, as I was getting out of the lunch line with my cardboard tray containing a milk carton, mashed potatoes and some unknown meat. I was halfway across the room to the door when Mathew had cut me off, his posse of wannabes following him like helpless ducklings.
"So if it isn't the multi-colored freak", he sneered as he said his favorite nickname for me, flicking my milk off my tray making it go splat on the floor. The tables nearby had quieted slightly, and while picking on me seemed to be an everyday occurrence, people still seemed to enjoy the show. Pathetic, I thought. I kept my head down however as Matthew continued to talk, it was best not to poke a bear, you wouldn't be able to win. "How's your daddy doing? Oh wait, you don't have one. He probably took one look at you and walked out." Well, he was half right. Mathew and his groupies started cackling as if he had just told the greatest joke in the world. I simply stayed silent, my medium length white-blond locks falling in front of my face, and attempted to walk past them. Mathew sadly noticed the lack of response and grimaced, eyes glinting with fury; he hated people that ignored him. As I shuffled past him he kicked my foot out from underneath me, sending me sprawling face-first into my mashed potatoes, the sticky substance sliding down onto my blue shirt. "Don't you ignore me freak", Mathew hissed, "You don't get that right. Everybodys above you, all you are is a burden, a monster." He spoke just loud enough for me to hear and walked away, leaving me on the floor holding back the tears pricking at the corner of my mismatched eyes.
My mother picked me up early from school that day after learning what happened, and despite the questions and worried looks I stayed silent the whole drive back. As soon as we got home I immediately went to my room and shut the door, the sticky stains on my shirt not agreeing with the humid air. I walked right past the black creature in the corner of my room, not giving my usual greeting, and plopped down on my navy blue comforter. I kicked off my shoes, not caring where they landed and curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. The tears I had been holding back in the cafeteria finally breaking loose; I began to silently sob, my shoulders shaking. Mathew might not have known it but he hit quite a few nerves.
The Shadowy figure in the corner watched me carefully. It tilted its head, it had never seen me like this before. It had seen me come home with bruises and scrapes, had heard my mother talking with the principal as well as I did but it didn't make a difference. I still came home with bruises and scrapes. I didn't know what it was thinking, that it was wondering who would do this to me. The little girl it watched bring color to a sheet of white paper, the kind child that read to them each night, the important person it felt the urge to protect. It gazed at me with what appeared to be concern and anger; though the fury was not directed at me. I didn't notice it's gaze though and continued to sob until I heard a voice.
"What's wrong", the voice asked, sounding soft, echoey, and male. I froze, what? There was nobody else in my room; I remember locking the door once I shut it. Well, nobody else here except... My train of thought ended as I looked up with watery eyes to see the shadowy figure looking at me head tilted.
My shoulder stopped shaking. "D-did you just talk", I hiccuped. Its white glowing eyes widened significantly as it nodded its head.
"You heard me?" It asked back, I nodded too. We sat in a comfortable silence, looking at each other as my hiccups dyed down. That day was the mark of our friendship being solidified, that was the day I got a brother; even if he couldn't go to school with me to ward off bullies. I now had someone to lean on, and we both had somebody to talk to. I didn't find out until later that it had tried to speak with me before and apparently couldn't utter a sound.
I, Terah white, was sixteen years old when tragedy struck and my life changed forever.
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