There comes a certain point with every addict, a moment of clarity where we’re forced to face the fact that we truly have a problem.
Some are fortunate enough to look down the track, to see the train coming from a mile away and step aside long before it arrives. And then there are people like me, who wake up to a tree trunk smashing through their windshield.
I’d been sitting in a parking garage not long before, waiting for D. D was my dealer, and a bit of a sadist. When I say that, I mean that he always kept me waiting just a little too long. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a heroin dealer; your customers will always come back no matter how punctual you are. I rocked back and forth anxiously, trying to ignore the chills racking my body and my aching bones that felt like they had turned to glass. With every minute that passed I cursed him under my breath.
When he finally arrived he opened the passenger door, tossed a few balloons in and grabbed the bills that were waiting for him on the seat. That was it. No greeting, no eye contact. When you’re a junkie you get used to these types of interactions, and after a while you even start to prefer them. There’s a type of honesty to it that you won’t find anywhere else. They give you poison to put in your body, and you pay them for the privilege. It’s just that simple.
Now, the problem came when I didn’t have the willpower to make it home. I needed to get well. Right then and there. So I snorted a few lines off the dashboard. Those first few moments were everything. Instant warmth spread through my bones. This was a good batch, a particularly good batch.
Okay, one more, then home
And that’s how I nodded off behind the wheel. It was a miracle I walked away from my totaled vehicle with only minor cuts and bruises. I was lucky to be alive. I was even luckier that I hadn’t killed anyone.
Then came the legal aspect. My hearing was set for eight months out, and in the meantime my conditions required me to attend substance abuse counseling. My case manager assured me that if I kept on the straight and narrow the judge would look on me more leniently. It was possible the whole thing could get thrown out if I put the effort in.
“Think of this as an opportunity. You have the potential to turn your life around. Make it count, okay?”
I took that advice to heart. I spent a month in rehab and gave it my all. After the withdrawals tapered off and the fog began to clear, I started to feel something that resembled optimism. I could do this. I would win this battle. I left that facility with my thirty day chip and a fresh perspective.
In the aftermath of the accident, one of the most profound moments came when I returned to my apartment. I barely had anything to my name. A burner phone. A mattress on the floor. An old TV. A chair. That was all. I’d lost my job months ago, and truthfully it had been long overdue. After that I began pawning just about everything I owned. And then “borrowing” money from my twin sister.
Cara was the one who paid my bail. She was the only member of my family who still answered my calls. I really hadn’t kept up with her life in the last few years, I’d been too preoccupied ruining my own. But she was always there for me. I think she had an inkling that I was going downhill, but until that tearful phone call from the jail, I don’t think she understood the depths I had plunged to. She had arrived within an hour to bail me out, though there was still a twelve hour mandatory hold on me. So I didn’t get to see her. I didn’t get to thank her.
That first day back home, I desperately needed to hear her voice. I was already feeling that familiar itch in the back of my mind, that self-destructive tendency stirring somewhere. I dialed her number hastily. It rang and rang before going to voicemail. Fuck. I tried again. Voicemail again.
“Fuck!” I tossed the phone on my mattress and paced the room.
Okay, deep breaths. Find your center. Acknowledge your feelings and let them pass…
Yeah, all that crap is great when you’re in a controlled environment, but out in the wild what good was it doing me? I stared at my phone for a while. I still had my contacts…
D will front me. Yeah… I can figure out how to pay him tomorrow, it wouldn’t be that hard to-
Thankfully, my phone started vibrating, sending me out of my jumbled thoughts. Cara was returning my call.
“Hey,” I answered out of breath.
“Pete, how are you?”
I explained that I’d just gotten out of rehab. I told her I had my thirty day chip. And then I told her how much I was already struggling.
“Oh, Pete. I would come and see you right now, I really, really would. But I’m right in the middle of moving.”
“Moving?”
“That’s right, me and Vince got a place together! We’re packing as we speak.”
I didn’t want to admit that I had completely forgotten about my sister’s boyfriend, so I was forced to feign enthusiasm. Gah, what a shitty brother I was. I had never even met the guy.
“Listen, Pete. Things are going to be hectic for a little while on my end. Work is crazy and this move is a lot right now. But, can you meet me tomorrow morning? For coffee? Can you make it through tonight?”
I bit my cheek, trying not to sound strained with my reply.
“Sure. Yes, coffee sounds good. Let’s do that.”
So the plan was made and we said our goodbyes.
*Okay, it’s just one night. Then you’ll see Cara. It will be alright.*
I surfed channels for a while. Nothing held my interest, but hearing people talk made me feel less alone. As the sun began to set, the television acted as a lamp, and I again began to pace my apartment. I had a course set out, something about the monotony gave me peace of mind. Walk from one corner of the kitchen tiles to the other, take six steps through the living room, turn around and retrace those steps. Soothing. Until I saw it.
It caught my peripherals as I passed the television. Though I was moving, my shadow was standing still.
I blinked, assuming that it had been an optical illusion or a trick of the light. But no. As I passed by, it remained in place. I froze. My heart leapt into my throat, and I watched as it raised an arm.
What the fuck?
It wrapped something around its extended arm, drawing it tightly. I realized that I was watching it tie off a vein.
“No! No!” I screamed, crumpling to the carpet. I couldn’t watch anymore, I crawled forward and unplugged the television. In the absence of the glowing screen, I sat in the dark, gasping and panting. I tried to talk myself through it.
Just a trick of the mind. A wandering psyche mingling with a guilty conscience. Come on, you know that wasn’t real!
And yet I remained in the dark until daybreak.
***
Cara was visibly taken aback when I shuffled into the coffee shop.
“Pete! Wow. You look, um… Did you get any sleep last night?”
I nodded my head, pulling back slightly from her tight embrace.
“Yeah, just… weird dreams, you know?”
We sat down and Cara asked me some questions about the rehab and my upcoming trial. I answered them as best I could, preoccupied with keeping an eye on my shadow on the floor. She gave me a sad smile.
“I’m proud of you. I really am. I know how hard it must be.”
“Thanks. Yeah, it can be tough sometimes… Uh, so, how’s Vince?” I asked, trying to act the way a normal person would. Fortunately, this perked her right up. She launched into a long-winded explanation of how he had been promoted at work, and how this had lead to them deciding to look for a new place together. I nodded along and smiled at the right key words, but most of what she said I had trouble absorbing.
“…Like I said, things are so hectic! But Vince and I were talking the other night… I mean, I told him some of what you were going through, and he was hoping that you would come stay for a few days once we’re all settled. What do you think about that?”
I spun my thirty day chip under the table, trying to come up with an excuse. I mean, after hearing about how fucking awesome he was for the last fifteen minutes, how could I even face him?
“Uh, yeah. Maybe. I just have a lot going on right now… Uh, you know, I would like to meet him sometime though,” I mumbled.
When she had to leave she gave me another tight hug, making me promise to call her and check in each day. I agreed, and we went our separate ways.
***
It didn’t take long to start again once I got home. The rays from the mid-morning sun cast my shadow on the wall in front of me. It loomed over me menacingly, but for a while it mimicked my movements. I sighed in relief, wondering if I had been letting my imagination run wild the night before. I may have even laughed aloud. But then it turned its head.
It was looking straight at me.
It’s not real, it’s not real
I shuddered, covering my eyes. I took some breaths, then squinted through the gaps in my fingers.
“No! Fuck!”
It was leaning forward, turning its head from side to side, almost mocking me. I let my hands drop, utterly horrified. Slowly, it tied the tourniquet around its arm like it had before. I was trapped in place, unable to stop myself from watching. And then I saw the silhouette of a syringe in its hand. It lowered it slowly, inch by inch, bringing it closer to a would-be vein.
Just before it made contact, something in me broke, and I fled from the bright room. I pulled open the closet door and clambered inside, shutting it quickly. Alone in the dark, safe from my rogue shadow, I shed tears of pure terror. I could see it moving around the room, occasionally blocking the light that was shining in from under the door. I knew it was out there, waiting for me.
***
On the second day of hiding inside the closet, I awoke to my phone ringing in my pocket. I raised it to my ear, trying to clear the phlegm from my throat before I spoke.
“Hello?”
Cara’s voice.
“Pete. Is everything okay? You haven’t been checking in…”
Fuck. No, everything was not okay. I tried to find something to say to her.
“Um… Well, not exactly…”
“Pete, I think you should come here. Maybe, like, right now? You don’t sound well… Listen, I’ll be there to pick you up in an hour.”
And that was that. Tentatively, I opened the closet door. I peered around the corner, satisfied that I didn’t see my untethered shadow roaming about.
By the time Cara arrived I had managed to shave off the stubble and clean myself up a bit. She commented on my bloodshot eyes, but I assured her I was just having trouble sleeping. So off we went to meet Vince and see this house that she could not shut up about. Though once we pulled in the driveway, I could see why she was so amped about it. It was magnificent, so unlike anything we had ever grown up with. It seemed that Cara was truly living the dream.
Vince only added to that perception. He hustled out the moment we opened our doors, a towering, handsome, beast of a man. His handshake just about took my arm out of its socket.
“Pete! Welcome! I’ve heard a lot about you, my man. So nice to put a face to the name.”
I did my best to not feel envious as Cara and Vince gave me the tour. But holy hell, what a place. It was hard for me to grasp that here I was- afraid of my own shadow and recovering from sticking needles in my veins- while my twin was here in paradise. They showed me to the guest room to get myself settled in and Vince told me he was going to get the fireplace going downstairs. I met him down there after dropping off my bags.
“I’d offer you a drink, but I’m not sure if that’d be wise?” he offered.
“How about a water on the rocks?” I joked. He left for the kitchen, leaving me alone in the parlor. I was acutely aware of the dancing flames casting my shadow behind me. I turned to look at it, hoping to convince myself that everything was normal. I waved my arms and it mimicked my motion. I would have tested it more, but Cara and Vince came in, and I returned to sitting casually.
We sat idly, enjoying the warmth. I began to relax as we conversed, even finding myself laughing and cracking jokes. Perhaps I had just needed a change of scenery, an escape from the tortured confines of my mind and that shithole apartment. I eventually asked them how they had met, and later sheepishly asked for a reminder on how long they had been together.
The later it got, the more at ease I became. The comfortable leather chair and the warm flames put me into a contented lull. I looked across the room at my sister and Vince holding hands between their chairs, and all felt right with the world.
But then I saw it.
This time, it was Cara’s shadow going rogue. I watched in wide-eyed horror as her shadow rose above her. It looked frantic, like it was shouting. Then another shadow. Vince. His silhouette was also shouting. I looked back and forth between the serene scene in front of me and the ominous one taking place on the walls behind them. Vince’s shadow reached forward, grabbing her’s by the hair and raised a hand-
“Everything okay, Pete?” Cara asked, noticing my expression. Vince looked over with concern on his face. I glanced back at the wall, but their shadows were behaving normally again. I swallowed, nodding my head.
“Yeah… yeah. I’m just getting a bit tired, I think.”
***
I had to wait an agonizingly long time before I was able to speak to Cara. Once Vince left for work and it was just the two of us, I sat her down at the table.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want the truth,” I said, taking her hands, “Has Vince ever hurt you?”
She stared back at me.
“Has he?”
She bit her lip, fighting back tears, and I knew the answer long before she spoke.
“…We… We’ve worked through a lot of things,” she said, avoiding my eyes.
“Cara…”
“Listen to me, Pete. We’re working on it,” she cried, rising from the table.
“Cara, wait!”
But she left for work, slamming the door behind her and leaving me alone with the horrible realization that my sister wasn’t going to talk to me about it.
It was difficult not to say anything when Vince returned. With my newfound hatred for him, I tried looking past his gregarious bullshit. He was a fake, a different person behind closed doors. And I wanted him to burn, to hurt him like he hurt my sister. But what could I really do? If I called him out I’m sure he would have denied it and kicked me out of his home. And he would probably think that Cara had told me, then who knew what might happen to her once I was gone? All I could do was wait for another opportunity to talk to her.
We had our usual fireplace gathering after dinner that night. Vince didn’t seem to notice the tension between Cara and I at all. He told his usual tall tales all the way until midnight, at which point Cara said she had a busy day in the morning and wished us goodnight.
“Well I don’t, I took the day off tomorrow!” he announced, pulling himself from the chair, “More water, Pete? I could use another whiskey.”
I shook my head and he shrugged. I checked on my shadow once he was out of the room. It still moved like it was attached to me, following my every move.
I knew that Vince wouldn’t last long after his next drink. His words slowed and he slumped into his chair, barely keeping his eyes open. At long last he excused himself for the night. Knowing that I would be unable to sleep, I placed another log on the fire.
My shadow waved at me out of the corner of my eye, drawing my attention to it.
It curled a finger at me, beckoning me to follow. I gave a dry laugh, so used to it moving on its own accord that it hardly phased me at that point. It slunk down the hall, looking back to make sure that I was following. The faint flicker from the fire illuminated the last door on the right; Vince’s office. My shadow pointed to the door, miming for me to turn the handle. What did I have to lose? It floated along the ceiling, hovering above Vince’s desk. With shaking hands, I opened the drawer it motioned to.
***
The night passed painfully slow. I was up before dawn, silently sitting on the edge of my bed. I watched the sun rise over the trees, their shadows spread across the ground larger than life.
I listened to the floorboards creak as Cara walked down the hall to get ready for her day. Eventually I heard her exit through the garage. And still I waited, biding my time. My shadow kept me company, kept me focused. I just had to be patient now.
Dusk arrived without my knowledge. One moment the sun was high, the next it was sinking. My shadow signaled to me that it was time.
I descended the stairs and found Vince sitting on the couch. My ears were ringing as I stepped toward him. He looked up at me as I approached.
“Oh, hey. I wasn’t sure if you were here or not. You’ve been quiet all day,” his smile faltered when he saw the murderous expression on my face.
“Uh, Pete, are you feeling alright?”
Background noise. Unimportant words continued spewing out of his fucking mouth. He trailed off when he saw what was pointed at him.
“Pete…” he gasped, raising his hands, “Hey, what’s this about, man? Just relax and put the gun down, okay?”
I continued moving toward him.
“Just think about what you’re doing, alright? Hey, put it down! Think of your sister…”
He couldn’t have picked a less persuasive argument. I waved his revolver at him, taking a few steps closer.
“Think about my sister?!” I bellowed, “I am thinking about her, Vince! Thinking about how you treat her, thinking about how you fucking hurt her!”
His eyes met mine, streaming with tears.
“Pete, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t do this!” he begged. He slumped forward, looking up at me desperately, mumbling incoherent half-apologies.
“Pete, please… Please, I promise. It will never happen again…”
I had my doubts. I bit down, steeling myself. No time to linger. Vince followed my stare to the wall, his eyes going wide as he watched my shadow and I place the barrel to his head, our movement back in sync once more. I drew a deep breath and put my finger on the trigger…
***
There is an ending to this story, though it may not be the one you wanted or expected to hear. Oftentimes stories are written to tie everything neatly together at the end and provide closure. But that’s just not how life works. Sometimes there are no endings. Sometimes it just goes on.
I’ll start by saying that I didn’t kill Vince. I couldn’t. Instead I broke down, I completely fell apart.
He didn’t call the cops, he didn’t retaliate in any way. He didn’t even tell Cara about what had happened. Once I put the gun down, we just sat there sobbing. He told me he would make good on his promise, he swore he would never raise a hand to Cara again.
But do I believe that Vince is truly capable of changing? Honestly, I don’t know. I still talk to Cara every day, and she seems happy. I just have to hope that she would tell me if Vince ever goes back on his word. For siblings who shared a womb together, we seem to have a particularly bad habit of keeping secrets from each other.
As for me, I recently received my ninety day chip. I still have my hearing in a few months, I still don’t know how that will turn out. All I can do is take it in stride, my shadow beside me every step of the way.
It’s funny just how little I’d thought about our shadows before all of this. On the day we’re born, it becomes our constant companion. It sees everything we do in this life. It knows more about us than anyone else. Before all this, I had never wondered if our darkest secrets would also cast a shadow if brought to light.
But if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: When we come face to face with the worst of what we’re capable of, we still have a choice over our actions.