Unseen Reflections

How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?

I seldom find myself uttering the word “no,” primarily because the queries posed to me rarely demand such a definitive response. Yet, when it comes to ghosts, my stance is unwavering—a resolute no, without question.

This is a tale whispered to me in days long past, which I’ve since adorned with the colours of the present, hoping it finds favour in your eyes.

Alex, with a flair for the dramatic and a penchant for the paranormal, had recently embarked on a TikTok venture, exploring urban legends from the confines of their modern, yet eerily nondescript, urban apartment. It was the perfect backdrop for their content—until it wasn’t.

A routine dance video, meant to be a lighthearted interlude among tales of the macabre, captured something unexpected: a fleeting shadow that darted across the background. Comments flooded in, viewers dissecting the video frame by frame, their intrigue piqued by the anomaly. Alex laughed it off, a trick of light, surely.

But the shadow grew bolder, its appearances more frequent, now with hints of human features—a shoulder here, the suggestion of a face there, but always blurred, as if refusing to be pinned down by the digital eye. The tone of the comments on Alex’s videos shifted from amused curiosity to palpable concern and unease.

Driven by a mix of fear, curiosity, and the unrelenting push for content, Alex decided to confront their unseen guest. Setting up a series of live-streams, they invited their followers to watch, the digital crowd holding its breath as Alex waited for the shadow to appear. And it did, not as a fleeting glimpse, but a chilling presence, mirroring Alex’s movements with an uncanny precision before vanishing as abruptly as it had appeared. The live chat was a frenzy of fear, speculation, and a shared, inexplicable dread.

The encounters grew more intense, culminating in a live session where the shadow didn’t just mimic Alex; it danced with them, a macabre duet that ended with the shadow’s sudden disappearance. The chill that ran down Alex’s spine was real, a visceral fear that no digital filter could disguise.

Haunted by the encounter, Alex delved into the history of the apartment, uncovering the story of a dancer who had once lived and loved there, vanishing without a trace, leaving behind a heartbroken partner. The pieces clicked into place, the shadow’s dance a poignant echo of a love lost to time.

With a heavy heart and a sense of duty, Alex decided on a tribute—a dance for the lost soul, live-streamed, but this time not for views or likes, but as an offering of peace. As they danced, the shadow joined, a harmonious farewell that culminated with the shadow’s departure, leaving behind a tangible sign of its passage: a dancer’s ribbon, the last vestige of a story that had found its end, not in the digital ether, but in the heartfelt acknowledgment of a life once lived.

Indeed, the conclusion might tread the line of cliché, yet I find solace in a narrative that bends towards joy rather than veering into the shadows of nuclear discord, wouldn’t you agree?