Shadow Person

Those of you who know about, understand, and have listened to tales of the 'Shadow People' will be expecting this - because of the title - to be my experience in meeting one. I'm really sorry to disappoint but this isn't one of those tales! Wikipedia (surprise, surprise) has a page on them. Shadow People. Actually, reading through that page maybe I did see one! I do believe my brother saw a 'Hat Man' - another form of shadow people - when he was a kid. I remember him telling me it was standing outside my bedroom door. He was just a kid at the time and had awakened during the night... you know what? I'm going to ask him to put his experience into writing and I'll share what he remembers - if he remembers anything! 

I've never seen a shadow person - most of the people when I have seen them have been corner-of-the-eye or appeared to be an every-day person, no different to you or I. A couple - Emily, and just the legs at work - were more transparent but still very much as visible to me as a solid living person would be. They have never been just a shadow. 

My day had started unlike most others. Sitting at the table around 06:30, drinking a hot cup of tea - just a splash of milk and no sugar - I caught sight of something moving in the garden. This is nothing out of the 'ordinary' for we have an abundance of birds who flit in-and-out all day, a couple of rats - not always welcome but still part of the wildlife we encourage - and, on occasion, a neighbours cat. These range from (don't ask me specifically what variety they are for they don't completely fit what they should be) a Burmese - who is the most amazing creamy/grey in colour - he is known in the area as "Killer Cat" for he will kill any bird/small creature he comes into contact with. He's had two of the pigeons from our back garden. Beautiful cat, extremely affectionate - took me forever to get him out of my car once - but if he comes in during the day when the birds are out he will get a squirt from the water-pistol. There is his sister, a Himalayan. Thankfully she is just too daft, too soft to kill anything, except an insect if she was to sit on it. There is a fluffy tuxedo cat who likes to lay along the tops our fence and a another that definitely has mixed heritage. He's a gorgeous bluey/grey with bengal markings. He's another I have spent too much time trying to remove so I can get anywhere. There's a couple of others who roam about - a huge russian white, a tort and both male, and female gingers - orange I believe they're now called in other parts of the world. These tend to mooch about out the front of the house and have never ventured into our back garden. 

I've been owned by a few cats in my lifetime. A beautiful tabby found her way into our lives when I was around three-years old. She let some big old coon cat have his way with her (the tramp) before my parents had been able to get her neutered. We kept the runt of the little. A HUGE tabby furball with just the best personality of any cat I've ever come across. There wasn't an aggressive bone or fibre within that cat. At night she would sleep under the blankets on my feet, he would sleep on the pillow next to my head. I still cough up furballs I ingested from him back then and he's been dead thirty-years! Another tabby followed - lovely when he wanted to be, with an evil streak in him. He'd show you all the love in the world, then quick-as-a-flash sink he claws and teeth into you. Usually when he was rubbing his head around your head so the teeth would end up sinking into your jugular! Pretty sure he was a vampire in a previous life. He'd try to nick your chocolate cake from you - whilst it was in your mouth and you were eating it.  Would stick his head in and slurp happily if you had a beer on the table, and you didn't dare let him know you had a curry. He would pull some mad ninja move on you for curry! 

My dream though, was, always had been and still is, to be owned by a smooth, sleek, slinky black cat. I came close when I rescued a Mum and her three kittens, but they were just a tad too brown to be black, one had white markings and one was fluffy. I found them all four good homes, seeing a couple of them regularly. My tabby was not happy to have them around or I'd never have rehomed them. 

Then a drunken night at a house party saw me take home a three-week old tortoiseshell who had been abandoned by the owners. Her Mum and siblings had been left to fend for themselves, and sadly were not able to survive the cold winter we were having. Eventually the foxes dragged them off, all except one, who I fed with a bottle every-other-hour until she was strong enough to be weaned. We had to teach her how to lap up liquids. She was one month past twenty-years old when she passed away in my arms one May evening. I would have got another couple after her, however, my dog was taken ill not long after she passed and I had such a horrendous experience with the vets that I have vowed to never be owned by another pet again. Losing my dog was the worst experience of my life, and I've lived through being with my Dad when he passed, losing my best friend, and the man I would have married. Had the vets been different then maybe I could have handled it differently but they were just atrocious and caused so much angst, pain and anger that even now - seven-years later - I cannot drive down the road they are located on for I am afraid I'll stop my car, get out, enter the building and beat to death some of the staff. I'm not a violent person, but they are lucky I was too devastated to even think straight the night my dog died, because I dread to think what I would have done to them. 

During the past year though I have been thinking that maybe I am ready to be owned by a cat. For forty-four years of my life there was only a three-week gap when we weren't owned by one. I could never cope with another dog, that much is definite, but my retirement plan, before I was even old enough to know how much of my life I would have to give over to working, was to be the crazy old lady who lived with a house of cats, and was going to have the local kids daring each other to knock my door. Maybe it's because I could officially retire next month - if I could afford to and was taking early retirement (I can also officially move into a retirement home - again, only if I could afford to) - that I've been thinking about starting the 'Crazy Cat Lady Collection'. I've looked at a few rescue homes in the area to see what cats are about (preferably black but I'll take anything) yet the time hasn't felt quite right. 

Monday morning though - the day this whole lot of twaddle waffle is about - the thing I caught sight of in my garden was the most beautiful black cat. It didn't walk, it glided its way down the garden path. It had a great time catching the water droplets from the pond fountain, instead of drinking directly from the pond itself. When it stopped, it turned, stared at me, held my gaze for what seemed like forever and in that moment I knew that something was about to change. That life was going to be different. I don't know how, I don't know what. I do know it's not bad so that's a huge bonus. My Mum, never one to miss out on something - she suffers really bad FOMO - wasn't able to see it from where she was sitting; being practically blind will also have hindered her in that way as well - got up to stand and look out of the kitchen window. She was perfectly (or should that be Purrr fectly? :) ) inline with him. He held her gaze for around ten-seconds, before looking back at me, turning and slinking back off up the garden. I never saw where he went. That in itself is an odd thing for you can see the whole of our garden from where I was sitting, and whilst it could have come in without me immediately seeing it, I have no idea how it got back out when I had been watching it! 

At work that day I heard some odd clonks, bumps and rustles. I thought nothing of it as I am in a block of other shops, and whilst I was the only one occupied for a couple of hours, sounds can travel so I assumed it was someone from elsewhere. I can't explain the few times I heard a woman's voice as I was listening to a podcast - I've not long got into those and this one I'm currently listening to is fabulous; you should check it out if you like ghost tales. It's called 'How haunted?". Of course, being a sceptic I take a lot of what is said with a pinch-of-salt, giving no credence to it, but it's definitely worth listening too. The host has a great voice too. Off topic for a second but how some of these podcasters get people to listen to them is beyond me. Some have absolutely horrendous voices. I had to stop listening to one because she was very screechy, and another because he had this odd way of speaking, overly-pronouncing the last word spoken before he paused. He would have been a great person to talk you to sleep though. Right, back to the original topic.

As I said I was hearing a woman's voice whilst listening, but couldn't make out what was being said, so I skipped back to discover the voice I was hearing wasn't on the podcast. Most odd as anything which happens at work is always done so by a male. I heard her half-a-dozen times in total, realising by the fourth time that it must be the Alexa in the shop. I checked, she wasn't glowing blue, but just to be on the safe-side and to rule her in/out I unplugged her. The voice spoke another two-times! By now I was shaking my head a little curious, but was too busy to really pay any attention to what was going on. I had a lot of walk still left to do before going to my niece's house for dinner, then heading off to a local church group where I was hosting a demonstration that night for them. 

I always get a little nervous around churches! Being a complete non-believer (whilst I am sceptical about many things nothing will ever make me change my mind when it comes to religion; as far as I am concerned they are nothing more than a cult) I do still consider the fact I may be stuck by lightning when I enter the building! Luckily I've not caught fire at the entrance; yet! The church has a tiny car-park, which I could have parked in, however (and I mean this in the nicest way, bearing in mind as I have got older my parking has become quite dire) the group I was demonstrating for are all retired ladies. Their parking left a lot - a real lot - to be desired. Another eight cars could have easily parked if they had bothered to park correctly. As it was I ended up having to park further up-the-road from the church. Not a problem, although it was pitch black with just one street light in the middle between my car and the church, showing me the way. 

I completed the demo - had a lovely evening - and a good catch-up with some of the ladies who are regular customers of mine, before packing up and leaving them to get on with the rest of their meeting. It was so sweet when one of the elderly ladies offered to walk me to my car because she was worried about me being alone in the dark! Not sure she really thought it through as she would then have been alone walking back. Yes, I would have made her get in the car so I could drop her back had I talked her up on her kind offer. 

In my own little world, minding my own business wandering back up the hill to my car I suddenly caught sight of a shadow to my right, however, it wasn't mine. This one was longer, thinner and appeared to be moving quicker than I was, to the point I thought someone was about to walk beside me. I shit myself because I'd not heard anyone walking up behind me, hadn't sense that anyone was there, and didn't know if it was friend, or foe. 

I turned my head quickly expecting to see a man in a hoodie - the vibes the shadow figure gave me - to find nobody there. Not a soul to be seen. I assume it was a trick of light - you can cast two shadows if you stand in the right position at a light source, although I have no idea how the other shadow was moving faster than I was, or how it was taller/longer!