A frail and conspicuously lean-looking young man, with ash-white skin and eyes barely opened, walked up unsteadily towards the counter of a liquor store. He propped up against the desk and took out some crumpled bills and coins—all he had. He looked at the cashier—staring him in the eyes proudly and ordered.
"A bottle of Polish Vodka."
He smirked and added.
"Keep the change."
The cashier who had pinched his nose due to the smell the young man was exuding, eyed the young man and then stared at the bunch of bills and coins that he had offered. He signaled towards a particular bottle on a shelf to his left; to his co-worker and the co-worker, conflicted, went inside the store and brought the packed bottle. He put the vodka bottle on the desk. The cashier collected the money and pushed the bottle towards the young man.
Askia forwarded his trembling hands and grabbed the bottle. He removed all the packaging, scoffed and threw it in the shopkeeper's face and spun around to leave the shop. The co-worker looked at the shopkeeper doubtfully.
"He looked like a minor. He didn't pay the full price and even disrespected you. So why did you?"
The shopkeeper released the grip on his nose. Heaved a sigh of relief and threw the packaging in the bin. He said with a plain expression.
"That bottle didn't contain liquor but water."
The co-worker stared at him blankly, not saying a word.
…..
He hasn't eaten anything for the past few days to save money for the bottle of alcohol, so it was a struggle for him to even walk straight. He walked for a few minutes—with intermittent breaks to catch breath, and arrived at the city railway station. He entered and went to sit on the nearest bench and exhaled deeply. He coughed and then focused on the cap of the bottle. He struggled but managed to remove it. He brought the bottle close to his nose and sniffed.It didn't smell like he expected it to.
"Maybe I've lost the sensation of smell."
He rubbed his eyes and tilted his head upwards. He saw that the cerulean sky was clear, with no clouds hovering above the land. He then shifted his gaze towards the people commuting for disparate reasons like work, excursion, trips and studies -
"Studies, wish I had access to it. Lucky people. I envy them."
He sat on the uncomfortable concrete bench while he looked at the passersby and studied their faces. Everyone looked the same to him until he spotted a stranger clad in a bright yellow and white suit. He stood out in the crowd of hundreds. Before he could look at his visage, he had disappeared.
Askia quickly forgot about him and thought.
"Everyone looks in a healthy condition.Tsk, I really envy these 'fortunate folks'."
While Askia noticed every single being, including the stray cats and dogs, Askia realised that after stepping inside the railway station,
not a single soul looked in his direction as if he didn't exist. No one heard his mutterings and gripes.
Askia, now, shifted his eyes on the platform and saw that not a single commuter was alone. They all were accompanied by their shadows. He instantly grimaced as a thought annotated by his mind-
"People tend to treat those indifferently, who are different from them."
He closed his eyes, in pain, and gulped down half of the 'Polish vodka' bottle. He felt the 'liquor' sliding down his throat to his stomach. He had expected some irritations to take place since it was his first time drinking booze, but nothing unusual happened. It was like he was drinking tap water.
He put the bottle aside on the bench, stood up and yelled.
"I'm drunk."
He lost his balance and swung in the air, raised his hands and tried to dance, like a drunkard.
"It feels so good to be drunk."
All of a sudden, his expression changed. Unable to keep the facade on, he sat down, stared at the bottle and covered his face with both palms.
"I'm not drunk. Not a bit."
He seemed like a child who was told by his parents to go upstairs and get ready and when the child returned, he saw that his parents had already left, without him.
"It was a rip-off. That bastard cheated me. I swear if I become a ghost after dying, I'll make sure to haunt him."
He twisted his face in anguish, and wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come out, since he had experienced far worse and unfortunate things than this. This was just a part of his daily life. In a while, his expression returned to 'normal'- lifeless, grim and despairing.
"Another day, another plan went south. Things will never go as I want them to, will they? Dammit."
There were many reasons for Askia's disappointment and frustration. One of them was, he had sold the phone he stole from an old woman at a much cheaper price and spent all of that including his 'savings' to buy the beverage.
Another reason was that he had planned to intake alcohol because he had seen in movies that alcohol made people impulsive, irrational, and courageous. He needed all of these to achieve his goal. His goal of abandoning his body and escaping the cursed destiny, by committing suicide.
In order to make sure, nothing goes south, he had researched everything using the internet, before selling his phone. He found out that the 'Polish Vodka' had the highest alcohol percentage of around 96%. He was very sure that this much alcohol could even make God lose his rationality for a few seconds, much less an infirm human. But now, a crucial step of his plan has gone wrong.
Askia buried his face in his arms. He gripped his head tightly. The ache he was having in head has increased multiple folds.
It might be a trivial matter, but these small pains can damage and wear down your soul gradually, until one day you cease to feel and breath.
Askia was agonizing. He wanted to scream but he knew no one would come for him, he had to deal with the agony, alone,all by himself.
"Where is your shadow ?"
A majestic voice, supposedly aimed at Askia, questioned him about his shadow. The voice almost felt like an echo-distant yet close, so close that it almost felt like the person was extremely behind Askia.
It has been more than half an hour since Askia took a seat, and was muttering to himself. But not a single shadow fell upon him let alone being noticed by commuters. Askia was petrified. He couldn't dare to turn around and have a look at the person who asked him about the biggest curse that he was born with.
{'Where is your shadow?' a question that has been haunting him ever since he was born. Irrespective of where and with whom he was, they all questioned him the same with disdain, disgust and contempt.}
While the scenes of his life flashed in front of, Askia realised something that alarmed him.
He had been sitting on the bench for quite a while, but no one noticed him, like he didn't exist or was invisible. No one looked even in his direction as if the space was cut out from the rest of the railway station.
But the person who had inquired about his shadow, not only noticed Askia but also realised that there was something wrong with Askia's shadow.
Who would care to notice a shabby, dull and corpse-like young man much less his shadow?
Askia's mind was a mess. Different questions and past memories were stinging his mind but not sparing another second to think about this, Askia got up and lunged towards the train, a few meters away from him, and leaped inside in one of the many compartments.
He didn't turn around to survey the area around the bench until he boarded the train.
To his surprise, Askia saw that no one was there. The bench he was sitting on, there was no one around in its five meter radius.
The train set off. Askia, out of breath, and infirm, panted heavily. Askia diverted his gaze and scrutinized the passengers in the compartment.
No one is looking at me. Well that's obvious, since I'm of no importance.
He looked around for the last time and took a sigh of relief.
He was convinced that no one was following him, not even his own Shadow.
…..
The concrete bench, where Askia sat a while ago, had a bottle resting on it. The bottle was sealed tightly with its cap on.
A tramp came near the bench and sat on it. He saw the bottle. His expressions lit up like the bottle in front of him contained elixir.
"A blessing from God HIMSELF."
Many commuters diverted their attention towards him, and their skin crawled after looking at the filthy tramp. The tramp didn't care, he took the bottle and ran away, avoiding other tramps, unwilling to share it with them.
People didn't pay them much heed and went to their respective platforms.
The tramp had left, but there remained a shadow besides the bench.
The shadow transformed into a vicious pool of dark liquid on the ground—pitch black, disgusting and nauseating. The liquid rose, stretching into a humanoid form as if poured into an invisible mold. A wet slithering sound accompanied its moment as the figure solidified. The pitch-black figure—unnaturally smooth, as if carved from a void itself—turned its gaze toward the departing train.
The humanoid shadow— Its inconspicuous 'lips' curled into a smile as it watched the train leave the station. It opened his mouth—pitch black inside,like his body, and spat some foul words—barely comprehensible.
"The journey begins."