It started small; Sometimes I would see a glimpse of you out of the corner of my eye – nothing more than a faint flash of color. You were always fleeting, to the point that I began to think you were nothing more than my mind playing tricks on me. That is until you stopped trying to hide, and I stopped trying to see... Then it got worse. You played tricks on me and gold haunted me at every step I took. I became nervous, eyes always searching, what people didn't know, was that I was looking for you. But you and your games have prevented me from seeing; you left trails of dust and silver, always, always, shining. Never you though. You preferred to see me suffer. That was what you found pleasure in. And I was very happy to oblige... I only noticed after the first few times I saw you, or at least parts of you, that you had no shadow. You stood, with your back covered in darkness and remain unscathed by the sun's rays. Even so, when I saw you, your face was covered. Always covered. So maybe you had a shadow, maybe it was inside you. Some things, I've learned, are internal. Sometimes the greatest beauty hides the most terrifying of secrets... Years after you fully appeared. Or as far as I allowed myself to see. Your smile was dull, and not just because only one side of your mouth was lifting. It was empty, as if something was missing. Your eyes were the same: dead. I didn't think about it, not everyone could be alive. There was something else too, something I had never noticed about you, until you had to show it to me yourself. You reminded me of someone, the predatory looks with which you stared at little red-haired girls, or the low timbre of your voice. Every time I got closer, the image ran away, like water flowing through... through paper... and fingerprints. But they weren't mine, they were yours. Where my hand had been, yours had replaced it. We weren't the same now, not like we were before, we were at opposite ends of where we started. I was the one who sat in the corner of his eye, always, always, watching. I knew that wouldn't happen. It affects you like it did me, though. You caused all this, started it all, so why would he do that. And I felt your thirst. A painful, never-ending burning that consumed me and left evidence of fire when brought to the surface. Now I understood. But I would never forgive you. But only because there was nothing to forgive, you wanted life and I gave it to you. I was just doing what made you happy, and it seems like your happiness is tied to mine. So I guess that means I'll be happy to be a shadow forever, and that's why I tried to hate you. But I can't. I wish I could do it.