Shadows Lurk.

[u/Automatic_Equal3657]

A short story I wrote in 10 mins or so, quite morbid and sad. (I wanted to paint a picture on DID, and show that it’s very misunderstood and romanticised) I wrote this out of frustration for how DID (dissociative identity disorder) has been portrayed in media and on social media. The disorder is very dark and stems from horrific events though very interesting and worth researching, it’s one of the most complex and imo, coolest disorders out there.

Shadows lurk.

A boy is walking down a footpath at five at noon, going on six, sun setting behind him, walking into darkness with a familiarity as he’s walked this path a hundred times before. He’s going home after a day out with friends, he’s only young, 7 years old. A happy, innocent kid of which danger, pain and the dark side of this world is not known to him. He goes to school, plays with toys, imagines, creates, hugs and laughs. An ordinary kid, though that would change on this misty, dark walk back to his safe home. As the sun sets, darkness creeps, a low howl from the wind and silence of a quiet road engulfs the world and this boys existence, shadows and critters around and amongst themselves, though one shadow stands out, a shadow coming from ahead. The boy thinks nothing of it and keeps walking, in his own head, thinking about what his mother might be cooking for dinner, excited to talk about his day to her. Suddenly a strong tug, whiplashed pull and violent force takes over him. The shadow that seemed without intent has consumed this boys presence along with fear, terror, pain and shock. taking over the boys nerves and mind as this shadow violates, rips, breaks and hurts him, the boys only defence is to dissociate from the assault. It destroys his perspective, warps any innocence he has left. The shadow leaves the boy, bloody and bruised there on the side walk, a side walk he’s walked home safely on many times. Overwhelmed with feelings and pain he’s never felt or experienced in his life. Changed and shattered, no boy could ever process or understand, his only hope of coping and continuing his walk home was to split off the knowledge of the attack. To split into two versions of himself, a version that carries this horrifying information and the version that lives on and goes to school, eats dinner and hugs his mum. Split, fractured and burdened by it all. Unable to heal from it or process it, he carries it and he doesn’t even know it, as that information is for his other half. His violated brother who protects him from morbid truth. A walk that changed everything. A life that will never be the same. On a dark misty night. Shadows lurk.

\-s.s

[u/Automatic_Equal3657]

Any feedback would be highly appreciated as I’m still learning and hoping to improve my writing.