Mourning Someone Who Never Existed

How do you mourn someone that never even existed? That’s something my mind has been plagued with for as long as I could remember. I remember going to the cemetery to the grave site of a person I had never known. Once in my life, I had gone to a grave site of a person who didn’t even exist.

I had four siblings, initially, now three remain.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been followed around by a shadow that sabotaged everything I did. From my preschool years until recently. It was some form of a gargantuan mass of a black substance that had snuffed the light out of my life on more than one occasion. I am not even sure if it’s gone now. It all started after the aforementioned visit to the grave of a person I had never known. The first time I’ve encountered the black mass was when I was a preschooler. I was standing on the slide, and it was a good few feet above the ground. I felt an icy hand push me from behind and the next thing I knew I my body contacted with the hot sand below. I burst out into a fit of crying, more so because of the shock rather than the pain.

My mom rushed to me, and I remember telling her someone shoved me after she managed to calm me down. She looked at me perplexed, saying there was nobody else on the slide with me. I guess she reasoned I must’ve lost my balance and fell off.

For the longest time, I thought she was right, but then stranger things started happening. My things would go missing or end up misplaced. I remember one time walking in middle school and suddenly stumbling over thin air and knocking over two girls who were walking in the opposite direction. I felt the same feeling of an icy hand shoving me from behind again that time. It’s an unforgettable feeling.

That incident led to me being bullied throughout the remainder of my middle school years. If the bullying wasn’t enough, well then that’s when the strange nightmares started. I would dream up about someone, or something that looks exactly like me but entirely black. Like the void itself took up a bastardized version of my own form. This thing would change me around my house until it caught up to me and started choking me.

The worst part I’d wake up unable to breathe. The feeling of two cold vice gripped hands clasped around my throat persisted for a few moments. It only dissipated into nothingness only after a few seconds of me being awake. Finally allowing me to breathe again.

The nightmares would end up taking many forms. Some times the shadow thing would beat me into a bloody pulp. After those, I’d find myself with bruises and random cuts thrown on the floor of my bedroom. My parents started noticing the wounds and thought I might be self-harming, but I was honestly too young for that. I told them it was the shadow thing, but they didn’t believe me an imaginary being as they put it could inflict actual damage onto me. I was evaluated by specialists who determined I’m suffering from night terrors and sleepwalking. Well, no shit, I reasoned.

That didn’t resolve anything, however.

The strange things turned stranger, I would see a me shaped black hole standing in the hallway at night. It would stare a hole through me before disappearing once it made sure I was aware of its presence. Some nights I would wake up to see it standing over me as I slept before vanishing once I jolted awake.

The scariest part is it grew along with me.

It was an identical copy of myself.

Things turned deadly when a friend of mine died from Tuberculosis. She contracted the disease abroad and ended up being treated, but suddenly her state deteriorated and she died. I was there the day she passed away. Her eyes stared were fixated on me as her skin turned from pale to blue while she grasped at her throat. I called the nurses, but it was too late. I was shattered. I cried for days, and that’s when I saw that black thing staring at me – laughing.

I swung in its direction, but it disappeared into thin air, I swear I could hear laughter in the air, faintly.

My own laughter.

During her funeral that thing stood behind her grave, I couldn’t tear my eyes off of it. That thing it was enjoying itself. It sank into the grave along with her, before pulling itself back out and laughing at me once again. I wanted to tear it apart so hard, but I knew I couldn’t because I was around people. Somehow, no one seemed to notice that thing.

It was gone for a while. I managed to almost forget it.

As I was crossing the street after my medical tests for the military, my throat began to stiffen. I couldn’t breathe. My body froze and my head started spinning as the feeling of a disturbing familiar cold hand tightened itself around my throat. My heartbeat started increasing I tried moving, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. I was paralyzed from the head down. Everything started turning dull and then fading while my vision and overall sensation of self was being drained away.

A pair of lights and the screeching sound of tires violently grinding on concrete shook me awake. I was nearly run over, fortunately, the driver stopped in time. I didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t talk, and I was compensating for lost oxygen by hyperventilating like crazy.

A short trip to the hospital revealed that I most likely suffered a panic attack. I wasn’t so sure of that. While I was recovering from my anaerobic state, all I could think about was the shadow being, but I couldn’t tell anyone about it. It made no sense. Not to mention I didn’t suffer any further encounters with this thing until one day, in the field, I saw it run across my field of vision. My mind went blank, and my heartbeat entered race mode. Thinking it was the enemy, I almost fired off on some of my own comrades. Good thing my buddy smacked me on the arm before I could shoot. I told him I saw someone suspicious moving, but he told me I was just seeing things.

I guess he was right.

They were all right.

This… It came to me eventually, not too long ago. I finally realized the source of my troubles. I finally know the identity of the shadow entity. I had it beaten into me. I was beaten senseless by the truth, quite literally.

I got a note from my now aged mother, something she kept away from me for my entire life. I guess she was trying to protect me, pretend like everything was fine like there wasn’t a hole in her heart until dad died. Bless his soul. I don’t know why she did it, but… This whole day… it’s all so fuzzy now.

I just remember reading the note and my heart sank to my ankles. That note, it punched me in the chest. It punched straight through my rib cage before grabbing my heart, smashing it to pieces, and yanking it out. I only remember going to the bathroom, tears rolling down my cheeks to wash my face. I took a good look at my sorry mug and my reflection suddenly turned angry, this new look mesmerized me. As I stared at my reflection the skin on its face cracked and fell off, revealing nothing a black mass that had the same exact shape as my head. It had no features other two white holes for eyes and a wide line twisted into an eerie frown for a mouth. The next thing I know, my head is driven into the mirror and everything turned fuzzy and spinning. I don’t remember much, but I know I was being thrown around like a rug doll.

My wife found me lying in a small puddle of my own blood at the entrance to the bathroom. The bathroom was trashed. All the ceramics were broken, the shower curtain was torn off the hinges, the plastic chair missing two legs, the shower head was nearly torn off. An absolute mess. I had cut and abrasions all over my head, face, and arms. I don’t know what happened to me that day.All I know is that my wife found me in a broken state. I was covered in blood, tears, and snot, still clutching my mom’s note.

The note said, “Honey, I’m sorry I’ve kept this a secret for so long. It’s better late than never, please forgive me for not telling you sooner. You remember that grave we went to visit when you were a kid? That grave belongs to your brother. When you were born, you had a twin brother. He was stillborn, your umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. I’m so sorry I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that earlier.”