Night Time Story: The Girl Who Walked with Shadows
Dahlia first noticed something strange about her shadow on the last day of sixth grade. While other kids’ shadows followed obediently behind them, hers seemed to move a half-second too late, as if considering whether to follow her at all.
By summer vacation, her shadow had become downright rebellious. It would stretch toward interesting objects, point at things Dahlia might have missed, or tug her away from the paths she usually took.
One particularly hot afternoon, Dahlia’s shadow pulled strongly toward the old forest at the edge of town—a place her mother had forbidden her to enter alone.
“Stop it,” Dahlia whispered, glancing around to make sure no one saw her talking to the ground. “We can’t go there.”
Her shadow responded by growing darker and tugging more insistently.
For three days, Dahlia resisted. But on the fourth day, when the shadow refused to follow her at all and instead waited at the edge of her yard pointing toward the trees, Dahlia’s curiosity won out.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But just a quick look.”
The moment she stepped into the forest, her shadow raced ahead, flowing over roots and rocks, clearly leading her somewhere. Dahlia followed, marking her path with broken sticks so she could find her way back.
Deep in the woods, the shadow led her to a small clearing where sunlight filtered through leaves to create dappled patterns on the ground. Her shadow stopped beside a large, moss-covered rock and seemed to point downward.
Dahlia pushed away the moss to discover strange symbols carved into the stone. They looked ancient, yet somehow familiar, like words she should be able to read.
As her fingers traced the carvings, her shadow suddenly merged with them, filling the grooves with darkness. The symbols began to glow with a soft blue light.
A memory stirred—her grandmother telling stories about their family’s connection to the forest, about women who could speak with shadows and learn the secrets of hidden places.
Before she could make sense of this, Dahlia heard her name being called. Her mother stood at the edge of the clearing, face pale with worry.
“Dahlia! What are you doing here?” Then her mother noticed the glowing stone and fell silent.
“My shadow brought me,” Dahlia explained, expecting disbelief.
Instead, her mother sighed deeply. “I knew this day would come. I just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.” She sat beside Dahlia on the forest floor. “It happened to me when I was twelve, too. And to your grandmother, and her mother before her.”
That night, Dahlia learned the truth—the women in her family had always had special shadows, guides that connected them to a magic most people had forgotten. The shadow had led her to the stone when it sensed she was ready to learn.
In the weeks that followed, Dahlia’s mother taught her what her own mother had taught her—how to listen to her shadow, how to read the ancient symbols, and how to use these gifts responsibly.
Dahlia’s shadow was no longer just a dark shape that followed her—it was a friend, a teacher, and a link to generations of women who had walked the same path before her, discovering the magic that existed in the spaces between light and darkness.
By Shade Walker
