Shadow

Shadow

See the little one who sits in the shadows of her sisters?

She follows them everywhere—mimicking their every move.

They are the Golden Girls. She is called Shadow.

Seemingly unnoticed, the world opens up and she disappears.

Shadow searches for her identity in desires and potions—leaving her hollow and empty.

She welcomes the numbness the bottle brings. Hoping this time it will consume her.

When the pain resurfaces, she takes up her brush and paints with all her heart, amused with the beauty she creates.

Over time a real person starts to emerge. She feels peace in her art.

The roots of her feet are still shallow and weak, but she is tall and beautiful—a weeping willow swaying in the breeze.

Still not complete. She has work to be done.

Shadow sees herself in her mother. Fear explodes into rage.

Fighting and struggling against the visions, her roots tear from the ground, exposing her.

Humbled and weary, she digs her feet back into the ground.

Taking what she can use and leaving the rest, she sculpts her new self.

This soul is taking shape.

Longing for the dance that kept her centered as a child, she kicks off her shoes and begins to move.

She pours her heart out to the soft bamboo floor, allowing each beat to take her deeper into a trance.

Closing her eyes, she pirouettes into the music.

Faster and faster she spins, only stopping long enough to laugh as the world twirls around her.

She is firm in her feet and sure in her mind, this young woman is confident in who she is.

Beautiful, vibrant, and strong, shining in full color, she now takes her place next to her sisters.

She smiles as she steps into her shadow—a perfect fit.

She is whole.

By Angela Easterling