(This is my third post of experimental writing. I am still finding a style that I am best at, and continue to improve on it. I still don’t know what is best for me…)
He was smiling back to me. He was always holding his hand out to me, and if only I reached my hand out to him and touched the tips of his fingers, I would be free.
As far as my memories could go back, he had always been there, but again and again, I ignored him but he never gave up. His whispers were never changing. I was irritated with his presence.
His smile were more tempting than ever, his hands seemed to be warm. Just warm enough to heat up the cold and darkness that surrounded me.
Nobody but only me, could feel his presence. Nobody but only I, knew that he was there. Sharing the same eyes, same face and same smile as I did, the only thing we were different was that I was in the light and he was in the shadows.
Should I reach out to him and give in to his wishes for he had been asking for it ever since the beginning? If that happened, would I disappear into the shadows, and be free from the life that is treating me awfully?
His smiles were haunting. Somehow, I still wanted to hold on to the life I have. My hands trembled as unwillingly, as my fingers locked with those of the shadow man who shared my face. Slowly, my hands started to disappear. I could see through my eyes, my body, and it was his that became more solid. He let out a small laughter and I could feel that he was satisfied with it. My body felt lighter and lighter, and I could have guessed that I was in his place and he was in mine. He had replaced me, the boy who once had an existence in this world.
For now, I can only watch the boy in the light who can run and live just like I once did. And I can only smile and reach my hands out to him, but he is smart enough to not give in. My whispers are never changing, and I know that he may be irritated with my presence. He can feel my presence and only he knows that I am always there. I feel the eager to existence in this world like he once felt, and he felt the darkness that surrounds him like I once did feel. I am in the shadows, he is in the light. Perhaps one day, he may be tired of that existence. He may reach his hands out to me. I may be in the light again. And for that, I can only say, that at least once, I had existed in the world of imperfection.