Remember me? You’re supposed to be afraid of me. I’m your shadow, the one hiding in the closet or under the bed. Your Mother warned me when you were naughty and your Father mocked you when you came crying into his room because of me. When the nights were long and quiet, you swore you could see me smiling from the darkest corner of your room.

Why aren’t you afraid anymore? Did you simply grow up or was it the nights that weren’t so quiet? Was it the shouts you could hear from down stairs and the empty bottles you’d find in the morning? Or was it the bruises you hid from your friends? Did hiding under your bed make you realize there was nothing under it? Did your closet keep the monsters out?

I’m not mad at you. Everyone forgets their shadow eventually. It’s only natural. But some don’t let us go. Instead they swallow us up and keep us inside themselves. We try to get out, but they don’t want to let us go. We keep them afraid, keep them strong, stop them from stopping. They grow up bigger until everyone is scared of them instead.

Don’t worry, little one. You won’t have to be afraid any longer. I’ll make sure of that, but I’m afraid I don’t have much time left. A shadow no one fears isn’t much of a shadow at all. I don’t know how I will do it, but they’ll fear me before I’m gone. If only for one night.

What was that? You want to eat me? Why that’s a wonderful idea.

Yes, you’ll be bigger and stronger than them. No one will ever hurt you again. I can make sure of that. Now, open wide, little one. It’s time for them to be afraid.