The fortune teller wasn’t nervous when I sat down at the round table but her eyes suddenly darted behind me, narrowing with dread. I glanced back and no one was there. “Is everything ok?” My coworker recommended the psychic after I admitted to feeling a strange presence in a reoccurring nightmare, the one where I heard a quiet murmur coming from the other room, while I was paralyzed in bed. The murmuring came louder until I would wake.

“Oh yes, I just…thought I heard something.” She pulled out the tarot cards, shaking her head. Her face was young. Not what I was expecting from a psychic. “What brings you in tonight?”

“Just a reading,” still looking over my shoulder. “It’s like there’s this darkness hanging over me.”

“Of course.” She laid out the cards, each of the symbols and figures were stranger than the last. “Let’s see what’s in store for you.”

I explained my troubles with sleeping and how my work could be affecting it. She became visibly agitated when I mentioned the phantom by her wrinkled eyes and shaking lips. As she laid out more peculiar cards she asked if I experienced any trauma lately. I said no and told her that I often feel nervous around other people and that it’s hard for me to get out of bed because of the anxiety. My heart races and I can barely make it out the door before I want to turn and run back to bed.

She seemed to ignore this information but I couldn’t help but accept the idea that perhaps so did I. After all my bed was the safest place from the constant stares and judgement that I feel every day. Awkward small talk and my feeble attempts at jokes only made the anxiety worse.

Suddenly, after laying down a card that had several swords on it, she reeled back and held her mouth. “What’s wrong?” I asked. At this point I should have been used to making women feel uncomfortable.

Her hands were shaking when she held out another card in front of her face and quickly returned it to the deck. “I –I think I made a mistake.” Again she eyed the door behind me, furtively glancing between me and something that wasn’t there. “You might need a cleansing.”

“Cleansing from what?” I tried to hide my frustration.

“If the cards are right there’s a shadow hanging over you. A darkness.” She laid the deck down, lips quivering. “I don’t know if I can help you. I see…you…”

“I figured this may have been a waste of time.” Psychics were never really my thing. How could a random stranger help with my problems? “I think I should go.” I said standing to leave.

“You should –yes, you should go.” Her eyebrows arched in anger and her posture suggested she wanted me to leave, so I did.

Walking back towards my apartment at night left me with a bit of paranoia. The alleys between the houses were the most off-putting. I never knew if anyone would be there and what I would say if there were. I had a habit of looking over my shoulder and as I did there was indeed someone there, a dark figure walking only a few yards behind. My heart raced as I ran past my apartment, fearing it had evil intentions. They had their hood up like I did and walked with the same gait. But it couldn’t be…The male figure had the same leather coat as me. Like…a shadow.

The faster I walked the faster the figure walked, in the same careless, intimidating swagger. It was as if I was being stalked by myself. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Was my fear getting the better of me? It couldn’t be real. I shouted back and the shadow turned back and stopped…I continued and the shadow followed. If I went home the shadow would be right behind so I ran. And the shadow ran with me. I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t go anywhere without it being there. There was no escape. No way out. No way home. Except…

Headlights cut into my vision. A car was driving faster than the allotted posted speed, headed in my direction. The shadow gave me goosebumps. It was just behind me now, breathing heavily. If I jump into the road, my nightmare would be over. This was the only way to get rid of my shadow, my personal monster. Did it have my face? Or was it some hideous malformation of my own? I felt a cold hand reaching out. As I stepped onto the street, I turned one last time. I had to know what it looked like. I had to. But it was gone.

It was all in my head. My heart rate slowed when i came to this realization. It was my demon. My fault for imagining a darker side of me and manifesting it into my world. The car lights vanished as they passed me. I could’ve died. I could have easily ended my life, much easier than creating this darker self. So much effort for such a loss. Of course, the shadow could come back but I would be better prepared to put a stop to it with forethought and a better, happier outlook. After all, we make our own existence. We can also fill it with monsters and scary things to avoid reality.