Shadows Do Speak

“All we lack are ears.” mumbled a boy sitting by himself on a park bench. He had his head down. He was observing the ants that were carrying food crumbs and transporting them to their designated nest which was hidden among the bushes somewhere behind him. He regarded the line they formed with awe and interest that is hard to find among school boys who are easily distracted away from the things that lay outside of their area of mindfulness.

The sun was overhead and casting his shadow in front of him on the ground. A drop of sweat oozed from the top of his forehead and after travelling smoothly down to the tip of his nose fell on the ground noiselessly. The ground absorbed it instantly or maybe some part of it evaporated into the air unseen. The ants continued to move undisturbed.

Their task at hand was more important than the mundane lives of humans who exist around them and move around aimlessly unlike them who are continuously working. Their task is more important than even their own lives. Even when a few of them are crushed under the feet of aforementioned aimless humans, their work must not be compromised for the sake of the dead ones. It must go on unhindered for the world goes on and so does nature. The inanimate object mustn’t move and those that are animate have not only just the right to move but are also bound by a sacred duty, bestowed on them by some unknown force, to exert themselves and play their allotted part in the world whether they like it or not.

Perhaps, that’s what the kid was pondering over as he watched what was in front of him, or perhaps, his mind was occupied by something totally unrelated to the abstract thoughts that invade the minds of mindful people. In either case, it was apparent he was alone and free to think about whatever he wanted. In that scorching heat, left unobserved from the intrusive eyes of the strangers, he was mad enough to take a seat at the only bench which was not under the shade of a tree or a roof.

His face muscles looked a little strained, and his joined hands, in front of him, were gripping each other in such a painfully tight manner which was sure to leave nail marks on both of his hands. He didn’t want to be there but he couldn’t bear to go home either. It was not like he was punishing himself by deliberately sitting in the burning heat in the month of July.

“Don’t you dare enter this house again!” His mother had shouted at him just before bolting the door against him. He had banged on the door several times before leaving, and had even begged her to let him in. This wasn’t the first time he was treated in such a way and by such a close relation, and surely wasn’t going to be the last time either. But he had to find a better way to spend the afternoon until his mother’s temper calmed down.

Another mumble escaped his mouth. He had been mumbling in such a way ever since he’d arrived here. If he was expecting the ants to answer him, then he was clearly in the wrong. The ants had better things to do unlike that poor soul with no work to busy himself in and no house to rest his legs at. He would be proclaimed a case of psychosis if he didn’t stop talking to himself. The kids in his school had already made up their minds about him being a freak long before they caught him murmuring unintelligibly like a half-witted beggar on the abandoned streets.

This boy knew that he didn’t have to worry about people assuming things about him at that time of the day. He could even wander around naked if he chose to without garnering any attention in that deserted park. He’d soon be on his way home, he decided looking up at the sky for a moment. The dark clouds could be seen approaching from the south. He could also go to his friend’s house, he thought, but no it wouldn’t be safe to go there on a Sunday.

Ryan’s father is a drunkard and doesn’t like it when he calls any of his friends over. Not like there are many to choose from to begin with but the only friend he’s got gives a sore eye to his father. The boy shivered thinking about the time when Ryan's father had given him a black eye over some trivial thing he couldn’t seem to remember now. Let’s not get into the kind of treatment he puts his own son through.

“I can’t run away.” He said aloud this time with his head still bent over the ground. Much to the sufferer's delight the clouds had now fully obscured the sun saving him from its cruel hot flashes. He hadn’t seen the forecast about the rain but his relief was all too apparent on the delicate features of his face from the surprise of it. The shadow was gone and now he could lift his head to look at the sky which was darkening by the minute. He got up in a sprint and was on his way to wherever he had made up his mind to.

He left the dead ants behind that were under the shade of his body a while ago, without sparing them a single pitiful glance. Besides, he wasn’t the one responsible for that. He began running because the thunder was approaching and he didn’t want his clothes soaked. His mother would be mad if that happened. The boy was just a few blocks away when a car made an appearance from his rear and projected his large shadow on the ground in front of him.

A loud shriek pierced his ears but faded away as the car went by. He shook his head without stopping and went on. Try as he might, it was impossible for him to avoid all the street lights. But it was still safe as long as there wasn’t anyone else. He didn’t want to cause anyone harm when he could help it.

“I’m hungry!” A voice spoke in his head for the thousandth time that day when he knocked on the door and wished that his mum would let him in. She did and without a word. He apologized regardless.

“You must think I'm a bad person. You must hate me. Have you any idea what I’ve been through? And now your hatred is my reward to top it all up?” She started cleaning the kitchen counter as soon as she said it. To avoid his gaze she rubbed it with the dirty cloth even harder.

“I don’t hate you.” There were no emotions behind this response. He might as well not have spoken for the difference it made.

She had hit him today. It didn’t matter much to him now. He knew she was depressed. If only there was any way to help her. It all had started when that thing appeared. He was to blame, he admitted. He needed to get away from her, from all the living creatures if it was possible. The death that he was carrying was weighing down everyone who came in his way.

He stood there silent which felt like an eternity, the darkness clawing inside him even deeper than his depth admitted. It was worse in the dark to be left alone with that thing but at least it couldn’t hurt anyone else this way.

This was the third month they were spending without electricity in the house. It wasn’t like she couldn’t pay the bill but she’d rather spend it on food rather than light they could get for free when it was daytime.

She stopped rubbing the counter and started laying the plates on it instead. They were having fried rice again. The boy looked famished, she noticed. She shouldn’t have been so hard on him. He was just a boy, a sickly boy but her boy. It was an honor to look after him, she repeated to herself again, and again. His father would be delighted to find him in such a healthy shape.

Even though he weighed only 29 kilos, her mother fed him comparatively more than she fed herself. For some reason, he always carried this look of starvation. He was becoming a problem for her but no, think of his father. What would he think if he found her having such thoughts about their boy.

It was time for bed. They never wished each other good night. What good was it going to do anyway? The boy knew he’d go to his room and lie awake all night as the shadow darkened his mind and sucked his blood just to vomit it back adulterated with poison. He has gone to the same dilapidated mattress knowing fully well that a part of him dies every morning he leaves that mattress.

Tomorrow was going to be different, the thing had whispered in his ears when they were alone in the park. It advised him to run away for his own sake. It knows how to escape the bounds of his body now. It taught itself because it had starved for too long. It was hard already to survive on ants, cats and birds but now it had started to feel excruciating. The boy remained inside for the most time. He had let itself have some filthy rats and it was shameful to admit that it had let him degrade itself like that. All of this because it devoured a girl that it wasn’t meant to. She tasted better than any delicacy it’s had in her lifetime and believe it when it says it has lived for an eternity.

The boy woke up rather refreshed that morning. He was finally able to get a good sleep much to his own surprise.

"Mom? Mom? Mom? MOMMMM?!"