Shadows of Self
Shannon L. Arrant
Copyright 2010 Shannon L. Arrant
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/; or (b) send a letter to Creative Commons 171 2nd Street, Suite 300, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA
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Cover Art Courtesy of https://aviary.com/artists/gfranco4489/
PRAISE FOR SHANNON L. ARRANT
Seemingly only half (and perhaps even less) of the writers out here in this huge world really have a true passion to place their literary pen to paper… or, in this day and age, fingers to their computer keyboard! I believe that Shannon L. Arrant is one of those privileged individuals who can show that rare passion in her written words, for it is obvious when one reads the words that has come from her heart, and has graced the monitor of the reader! For a relaxing evening by the fireplace, I am recommending this writer’s written works to give them an entertaining pass of time!
Ted Anthony Roberts
Swashbuckling author of Donaree the Musketeer, Captain Skull, and the Swashbuckling Press
www.tedanthonyroberts.webs.com
***
I enjoyed this short collection. Some of the stories flowed poetically for me. My favorite was "The Truth" and I could envision it becoming a full length story on its own. Good job, Shannon. I look forward to more.
B.L. Newport, about Pretty Piece of Work Vol. 1
Author of Reapers, Inc – Brigit’s Cross
***
A nice short story; very well written about grief and guilt. I look forward reading more from this author something.
Kipp Poe Speicher, about Shadows of Self
Author of Closing My Eyes to Help Me See Clearly and Gass for Grass
DEDICATION
Brigit’s Flame
This story simply would not exist if it wasn’t for the LiveJournal writing community Brigit’s Flame. Their monthly writing contests and weekly prompts challenge me as an author. Their encouragement and support during both good times and bad gives me strength and hope when I need it most.
My sincerest thanks goes out to all of the members for the love and help you’ve given me, especially Jacques and Marion. Every writer should be so lucky as to have a community as wonderful as Brigit’s Flame supporting them!
www.brigits-flame.com
Steve
The words ‘I love you’ seem too simple to truly express exactly how much you mean to me. You are my soul mate and your belief in me allows me believe in myself when the going gets tough. Thank you for loving and supporting me as I chase after my dreams!
Shilo, Serenity, and Sam
Each of you inspire me in your own ways and I couldn’t be prouder of any of you! Your creativity and imagination are beautiful to behold. I love you all dearly! My life is complete because you are in it. Never stop loving and laughing, but most importantly, never stop dreaming!
SHADOWS OF SELF
by
Shannon L. Arrant
The shrill beeping sounds of the alarm clock filled my otherwise quiet room. The chimes started softly at first before building into a cacophonous crescendo of irritation. When I bought the alarm clock, the box said that the steady increase in volume would “gently wake you, leaving you more rested, energized, and ready to face the day.” Yeah, right. I’m sure there are laws against false advertising somewhere. Unfortunately, the constant screeching of the torturous machine interrupted my happy daydream of a class action lawsuit against the sadist who created that damned alarm clock.
“Alright, alright.” I grumbled as I slammed a hand down on the off button. Finally, blessed silence filled my room. I briefly thought about just closing my eyes and going back to sleep but decided against it when I caught a glimpse of the time. If I didn’t get up now, I’d be late.
“Another day, another dollar.” I mumbled to no one in particular as I threw off the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed. The once plush carpeting of my bedroom felt flat under my feet as I slowly stood. Nothing like thirty year old shag carpeting trampled down to near nothingness through the years. It’s probably never seen a steam cleaner, either. Oh well. At least the rent on my apartment is cheap
I rubbed my face as I plodded across the carpet to the bathroom. A yawn and a stretch began my morning ritual. The added oxygen began to flow through my blood, rushing through the various parts of my body, but left me feeling only slightly more awake. I turned on the tap to the cold water deciding to let it run until it was nice and icy. I leaned against the chilled porcelain of the sink and hazarded a glance into the mirror on the wall while I waited.
I carefully studied my reflection in the mirror with a soft frown. Did I need to shave the baby porcupine spines growing on my face just yet or could it wait another day? I reached a hand up to rub over my chin, scrutinizing how I looked in the mirror. My blue eyes looked tired. No great surprise considering how much I tossed and turned last night. With a sigh, I shook my head, causing a wavy lock of sandy blonde hair to fall into my eyes. I ran my hand through my hair in an attempt to push it back into place.
My eyes widened with a start. I leaned forward, my hand still holding back my unruly lock of hair. Was that a scar running near my temple, at my eyebrow? My face seemed thinner somehow… like… No, it couldn’t be. I had to be more tired than I thought.
With another shake of my head, I reached my hands into the now frigid water and splashed my face. Suddenly wide awake, I grabbed the limp cotton rag that was more scrubber than towel that hung from the rod next to the sink. As I rubbed the coarse fabric over my face to dry it, I glanced at my reflection again. Yup, it must have been just a trick of the light on a weary mind. Everything looked normal. Giving myself one of my patented devil-may-care smirks, I tossed the towel aside and slipped back into my room to get dressed.
*******
I grabbed my worn jacket from the plastic hanger on the door to my bedroom as I started towards the front door to my apartment. The brown leather was broken in; creased with time and many hours wear. Like an old friend, I let the jacket wraps its warmth around me as I slipped my arms into the sleeves. Now, all I needed were my keys and I would be set.
A quick pat down of my pockets told me they weren’t to be found there. I quickly glanced around my sparsely furnished living room. The throwback striped couch from the 70s, the mismatched coffee and end tables… Nope, my keys wouldn’t there, either. Finally, my eyes settled on the tiny desk next to the front door. Aha, there they were. I managed to drop them into the bowl they belonged in for once.
My long legs managed to get me to the desk in only a few strides. Yet another benefit of my cheap accommodations. A tiny apartment left little to clean, much less fill with furniture. My hand paused as I reached for the keys, hovering just inches above the bowl. Something wasn’t right.
I frowned, wheels quickly spinning in my mind until it placed what was wrong. The picture of Joshua and me at our high school graduation was missing. Where could it have gone? I tried to quell an irrational panic that was threatening to rise within me. No one could have taken it, besides why would they? What would be the point in stealing a picture of my brother and me? It had to have just gotten knocked over. I bent over to look under the desk. Sure enough, it was there. With an exhale of breath I didn’t even know I was holding, I knelt down to pick up the simple, wooden, dollar store frame.
My fingers ran lightly over the glass as I stood up.
For a moment, I let myself get lost in that moment forever frozen in time. The smiles. The light shining in our blue eyes that for once were blessedly free of the cursed red eye that had plagued us throughout the years in photos. Our black robes, white diplomas clutched proudly in our hands, that red seal stamped boldly at the bottom as a proclamation to everyone that we had conquered high school. What I wouldn’t give to go back to that day…
A drop of water splashed across the glass of the frame, startling me back to reality. I glanced up, wondering if my roof had sprung yet another leak. Everything looked fine; there were no new water stains to take notice of. I reflexively sniffed, not even knowing my nose had started running. It was then I realized the drop of water had come from me. I had been crying. I angrily wiped at my eyes with the back of a hand as I set the picture frame back on the desk.
“Get yourself together, Justin.” I chided myself as I finally grabbed my keys. Still, I couldn’t resist a backward glance at the carefully framed and matted photo as I stepped out the front door of my apartment.
*******
The bus dropped me off just down the street from the store where I worked. I made my way through the early morning pedestrian crowd already filling the sidewalk. The suits all seemed to be going one way; the slackers headed in the opposite direction. Ah, the joys of working smack in the middle of the financial district and the ghetto. Funny how wealth and poverty could exist mere blocks away from each other. Unfortunately, my quiet chuckle wasn’t appreciated by the suit heading my way. He glared at me as he pushed past. The indignation only caused me to laugh harder as I stepped into the cellular store where I worked.
“Hey, Justin!” came a cheery call from behind the counter. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing important. Just a self-pretentious corporate type with low self-esteem glaring at me for some perceived slight.” I leaned across the counter to grab my timecard and punch in on the ancient time clock that hung on the wall. “How are you this fine morning, Sue?”
“Isn’t that always the case?” A warm kiss was placed on my cheek as I punched in. The sound of amusement was heavy in Sue’s voice as she leaned her petite frame against the thin counter. “I’m fine.”
She rested her weight on her elbows, beginning to study me intently. Her brown eyes never seemed to miss a thing, taking in the bags under my eyes and the redness from crying earlier, no doubt. She pushed her long, black hair over her shoulder as she asked “How are you doing, Justin?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” I lied. I used to be so good at lying; being able to get my sorry ass out of any trouble I managed to find myself in. Now, my voice just sounded hollow to my ears.
Of course, Sue heard it too. Like a tiger, she pounced on the falsehood. “Justin, how long have we known each other? You don’t have to lie to me. Look, I know today has got to be hard on you…”
I cut her off before she could get much further. I didn’t want to hear it, especially not today. “Sue, please just stop right there. I’m fine.”
“Justin, it’s barely been a year since…”
Damn, she was persistent. I pushed away from the counter. “A year today, I know. If…”
A chirping from my pocket cut me off. My cell phone. I dug it out to glance at the caller ID. Sue leaned curiously over the counter as I stared at the crystal display. “Who is it?”
That was a damn good question. The numbers were familiar. Their significance flirted around the edges of my memory. It clicked over to my voice mail before I could recall just who the number belonged to.
“I… don’t know.” I truthfully replied. I shrugged and started to put my phone away when it suddenly rang again. Once more, my eyes were drawn to the caller ID. Once more, they read the same number as before. I began to puzzle over the digits lit up in blue from the backlit display.
Abruptly, everything clicked. The number… it couldn’t be. I flipped open my phone to answer it just as it went to voice mail. I cursed as I slammed the phone shut.
Sue’s brow was furrowed in concern. I no doubt went three different shades of pale at my realization. “Justin, what’s wrong?” There was no denying the worry in her voice.
“Sue, do you know if Josh’s cell number ever got reassigned?” How I hated myself when I heard the tremor in my voice as I spoke.
Sue pushed her small frame slowly back from the counter. She bit the corner of her lower lip as she thought. It was a habit of hers. One that I usually teased her for, but now… it barely registered as more than a blip in my mind as it raced along. “I don’t think it did. I think it’s still on your account, actually.” A slight shift to the computer nearby and a few keyboard clicks later confirmed it.
“If his number is still on my account, then how…?” Another ring came from the phone held tightly in my now sweating hand. I quickly glanced down. The same number. Josh’s cell phone number.
I hastily flipped open my phone and put it to my ear. “Hello? Who is this?” I demanded. I was answered with nothing but static. “Hello? Hello?” Anger crept into my voice. “If this is your idea of some kind of sick joke…” I never got to finish my threat. The static ended as the line went dead. The empty air heard through the receiver was somehow worse than the white noise. I slowly pushed the phone closed.
*******
It was dark by the time I finished my shift. A light rain was falling as I closed up the store. A glance skyward at the dark grey clouds let me know I should empty out the trashcan when I got home. It might be needed to catch the drips from the leaking ceiling tonight.
The rain didn’t deter the masses from trying to get home. The sea of suits and slackers had turned into a sea of umbrellas as I pushed my way down the sidewalk to the bus stop. My gaze was trained on the sidewalk as I walked hunched back along.
I couldn’t shake the phone calls from earlier in the day. Someone had to have gotten a spoof card and was using it to get back at me. Josh’s death in that car accident a year ago wasn’t exactly a secret. It had made all of the major news channels in the city. Besides, I certainly had made a few enemies in my day. Just because I was trying to turn over a new leaf it didn’t mean all was forgiven.
An unexpected shove had me tearing my gaze from the sidewalk. “Hey!” I started in annoyance as I lifted my head up. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” At least, that’s what I would have said if my eyes hadn’t settled on him. The blonde hair and blue eyes that mirrored mine. The thin features and the scar. It was my twin, Josh… but it couldn’t be. He was dead.
My mouth gaped open like a fish without water. I spun around, reaching out to grab his shoulder as he walked past. My hand grasped nothing but air as Josh disappeared in the crowd.
I stood on tiptoe, taking my six foot frame up to its maximum height as I strained to look through the throng of umbrellas and raincoats filling up the sidewalk. He couldn’t have disappeared that easily, I found myself thinking as my eyes frantically searched the crowd.
Thankfully, reality set in again. He’s dead, I told myself. Buried this day last year. There’s no way he could be here. I shook myself. The mind games with the phone were clearly getting to me a lot more than I thought.
*******
I walked up the long flight of stairs and down the narrow hallway to my apartment. Rain clung to my jacket. Fat drops had begun to fall as I walked from the bus stop down the street to my apartment building. I would definitely need the trash can tonight.
I pulled my keys from my pocket and wearily unlocked the door. My keys hit the bowl with a metallic clang on the desk as I tossed them into it. I flipped on the switch to turn on the overhead light in the living room. Weak light flickered on for a second before everything was plunged into darkness again. Shit. Power outage. Just my luck.
I shed my leather jacket and threw it onto the kitchen counter with the peeling laminate.
I needed to grab a towel to dry it off, but first, I was going to get out of my wet clothes. I trudged down the hallway to my room, kicking off my wet sneakers as I went.
“Justin.”
I stopped, thinking I heard something. I strained my ears for a moment. The rain drummed a steady beat against the roof of my apartment. I took another step towards my bedroom.
“Justin.”
There it was again. I cocked my head to the side as I listened. The wind whistled around the old building where my apartment was housed. Nothing but the wind and the rain. That’s all. I rubbed my face. If I hadn’t sworn off alcohol, a day like this would call for a bottle of Jack. I shook my head and started to walk down the hall again.
“Justin.”
The voice was louder this time. It sounded like it was right next to my ear. A flash of lightning and a loud boom of thunder rocked the building. I spun around just as the lights in my apartment flickered on again.
My legs went weak. I could feel them collapse beneath me as I sunk down to my knees into that ugly, green, stomped down, shag carpeting. There, standing in front of me, was Joshua.
He looked as he had at the graduation party last year, even down to the t-shirt he borrowed from me. He had always been so uptight during school. I was amused when I finally wore him down enough to wear my “I’ll double your entendre” shirt. I figured the use of the word “entendre” would classify it as educated enough for him.
His blue eyes focused on mine. It was always so hard to stare him in the eyes. Every time I did, the scar was a reminder of the summer when we went camping with our Boy Scout troop and how an angry push from me down a rocky trail had resulted in stitches and an abrupt end to the trip for him.
“Justin, why did you do it? Why did you lie to me?” As always, Josh’s voice was kind while being stern. The sort of voice a loving parent would use when gently scolding a child.