The Girl in the Shadows

The water crashed down over the rocks with rippling speed. I balanced on one leg and stretched my other out to the tips of my toes over the balcony. My skirt fell against my skin, smooth as silk. The morning light shone through the stained-glass windows, pouring over the shadows, reflecting against the water. I stood in the dark, still as a statue, staring at the arches in front of me. An archway in the broken wall, a door to another world, a gateway to the future, a shadowbox of dreams, a hope chest of life. I traced my fingers along the grooves in the wall. As high as the ceilings reached and grew, the sky just outside went on forever. It was more than enough to make a young girl feel small and insignificant. My hair pulled back, strands falling down around the side of my face, started to drip, dampening my rosy cheekbones. There was no rain except for the drops coming from the corner of my stormy grey eyes. They slowly made a path down past my nose, over my lips, off my chin, until finally hitting my shirt. I climbed down to the bridge under the walk and balcony I had just come from. Where the river raced under the rocks and over my feet, I kneeled down to wade my fingers in the stream. After a moment I stretched out my legs and lay flat in the water, letting the water splash over my bangs and face. My hair soaked, my pony tail dripping at the ends, the water rising and rising higher and higher. I could see every small difference in the river as my eyes were level with the water. I closed my eyes as the water rose above them. I could feel the water rise over my mouth, covering the surface of my face, then reaching my nose. I held my breath, still as could be. The tears on my face were no longer visible and no longer warm.

Why was I here? What was I doing out alone under this bridge? What had pushed me to this position that I was calm and comfortable lying completely still and fully submerged under the water? There were many things, but most will never know. My mother came to mind, her smile, her glow, her light brown hair with silver streaks. I used to lay across her stomach like this, still and contemplating the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. She was always there for me. There was never a time that she wasn’t. I don’t want anyone reading this to think she was a bad mother or ever made a mistake raising me. She didn’t. She was perfect. Even her imperfections were perfect to me. She would crinkle her nose at a cuss word and chuckle at an inappropriate joke. She was a woman of small contradictions and big morals. I want her to know that what I’m doing now has nothing to do with her. She’s the best mother anyone could have asked for. So why? Again, why? There are reasons I could tell you, but none of them would make any sense to someone who isn’t where I’m at right now. It only makes sense when you’re here. No, it’s not because this bridge is depressing. Believe me, it’s the most beautiful place in my heart. Why shouldn’t I choose my favorite place to think and hide as the place I live for my final moment?

So I rest here now, waiting for nothing, waiting for something, waiting for change in the river, waiting for a break in my sleep, waiting for life (or death) to pass me by. I’m the girl in the shadows. The one you never see. I’m the girl in the background of every glance or look or plea. I’m the girl in the shadows. The one you’ll never miss because you never knew who I was. I’m the girl with no friends and no people to call her own or to trust. I’m the girl in the shadows. The one never given a compliment or a kiss. I’m the girl who is writing this.

When you find me, I'll already be gone. Washed away with the current, dissolved into what I've always been. A hundred years from now when another young girl comes to this bridge, she will be the girl in the shadows, and I will just be a forgotten memory. With more moss on the walls, more water seeping through the cracks, and more breaks in the stained glass windows, she will sit there thinking about everything that led her here just as I once did. She will balance on the rail, dip her toes in the creek, sit on the mountain of rocks leading down into the darkest shadows of her solitude. For a girl who has never been anywhere else, this will be her fortress just as it was mine. Maybe we would have known each other. Maybe we would have been friends. Maybe, if only we weren't a hundred years apart. She will make a different choice. She won't let the current take her away. She will step out into the light. She will climb to the roof and only look up, never back down. She will not be the girl in the shadows. She will be the girl from the shadows.

She waits for nothing. She starts something. She makes change happen. Peacefully asleep and vividly alive. Death is far off. Life will not pass her by. She's the girl from the shadows. The one you will soon see. She's the girl in the front of every crowd or chance or opportunity. She's the girl from the shadows. The one no one will ever forget. She's the girl with people to miss her and fret. She's the girl from the shadows. The one with memories of what she missed. She's the girl with a future and she's the one who is writing this.