Teddy died when we were kids.

It wasn’t the sunniest of days, but it wasn’t the cloudiest. What rain there was washed into the creek, and the winds, strong as they were, did little to keep anyone inside. That was the way in Murkwood back then. Reckless, careless, thoughtless little children running amok around town while the threat of tornado sirens played more like a ring for a treat given upon arriving at a stranger’s doorstep.

That storm came and went a week before Halloween. When it fizzled out with the static crackling of distant thunder, Teddy and I found ourselves at the edge of town, between the Casper caves and the Murkwood lookout. It was clear someone, some people, had been hanging around the tower, maybe even in the lookout itself.

Teddy said we should have left, pointing out the empty beer bottles and discarded cigarettes littered about, but he didn’t notice the unlocked door at the back of the lookout. It crept open ever the slightest and begged me to come in. No, I was never one to be afraid of the dark, but Teddy was another story. He begged us to go back to my house, but instead I went into the tower, telling my friend I would just be a second, promising him we'd play video games afterward and call his mom and dad at their Vegas hotel.

That was a long second.

Those stairs went on and on, and when I made it to the top, the sun had already begun to dip over the horizon. “Teddy!” I yelled, leaning over the railing and looking down. “Look at me!”

There was no response. I yelled again, scanning the field below. No one. If the way up took days, the way down went by in a flash. I raced down the steps, at times nearly tripping and tumbling down. At the landing, I lunged at the door. It didn’t budge. I rammed it with my shoulder. It barely reacted. I kicked at it over and over. It laughed back with metallic clangs.

I slumped over and leaned into the steel, panting and struggling to catch my breath, when I heard it.

“Daniel,” the voice said. It came from the outside as if inches from my face, separated only by the coldness pressing into my cheek. Except Teddy didn’t have a growl in his voice.

“Teddy!” I yelled, pounding on the door. It busted open, finally, and I found myself on my back and staring up at where I had stood atop the tower. 

That’s when I saw it. 

Standing with its elbows propped on the rails. Looking down at me with dark eyes. Whistling some familiar yet foreign tune. “Daniel!” it screamed into the forest. The grating voice echoed into the woods and flushed out flocks of crows in every direction. And then the sun finished setting, and I lay there in the darkness, only realizing after too many moments that I couldn’t move. I could still feel my limbs, yes, but they were just laying there, teasing me. I was there all night, screaming for help, screaming for Teddy, screaming for anyone. Mom, dad, teachers. All the while, the shadow just stared on, only this time humming so eerily that I wished my ears were like my legs.

I awoke to the sight of my mom frantically pacing back and forth while my dad sat on a nearby stump, face buried in his hands and hands trembling as if it was half as cold as it really was. It was cold, yes, but Teddy had insisted I wear two layers. It was the only thing he said that I had listened to.

“Daniel!” my mom screamed, rushing to my side to grab whatever she could of me. A deputy held her back, saying it was risky to move me until the ambulance arrived.

“Do you remember anything about last night?” the deputy asked me.

I thought back to what had happened. The storm. The tower. The door. The … figure. “Teddy!” I shouted. “Where’s Teddy?”

“Son …”

“Where is he?”

No one answered. Instead, they stared off into space and then up at the top of the lookout. “What’s up there? Why is everyone looking up there?”

“He’s gone,” my dad said. “Teddy’s gone.”

“Where did he go?”

“Honey,” my mom said, caressing my face and wiping tears from my eyes. “I don’t know how else to tell you this, but—”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Daniel.”

“He’s dead, and it’s all my fault.”

The deputy stood over me, notebook and pencil in his hands. “What do you mean your fault?”

My dad looked over. “Not another word, Daniel. Not until Mr. Johnson gets here.”

“What happened to Teddy?” I asked.

“You should get seen first,” my mom suggested. “Can you feel your legs?”

“Yes.”

“Can you move them?”

“No, but they burn.”

“At least you can feel them.”

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay, honey. The paramedics are on their way. Mommy and daddy are here. The sheriff will be here, too, and Mr. Johnson.”

I learned later that Teddy's body was found at the top of the tower. My mom didn't let me see photos of it, and I only finally saw them last week.

---

"So that's why you're here, Daniel?" The therapist shifts in her seat and leans in, pen and paper in hand. "You never talked about Teddy to anyone. You never talked to anyone about anything.”

“Shrinks aren’t my thing,” I say, “but you’re all right.”

“Thanks, Daniel.”

“I didn’t talk to anyone about it, but I wrote.”

“A journal.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have that journal here with you?”

“No.”

“I’d like to explore all of this more with you.”

“I’m sure you do.”

She grabs a notebook from the table between us and begins to write. “Just crossing some personal things out of my schedule,” she says before setting the notebook back down. “There. Now, I do have to ask. You haven’t talked about this in what, thirty years?”

“About.”

“So, what changed? Seeing the photos?”

“No.”

She nods and scribbles into her notepad. Pausing, she looks me dead in the eye and says, “It’s perfectly normal for adults to not address trauma for that length of time. I’m glad you came in today.” She continues to nod.

It takes a good few moments, but she stops bobbing her head, and I start talking. “What changed?”

“Yes, what changed?”

“Last week, I was unpacking the rest of my stuff and had the news on. There was this fundraiser event for the school, and the camera feed froze and nothing was moving, but, but one of the kids backed up to the camera, turned around, and stared."

"I heard there was a blackout at the station."

"No, it was still live. I felt it staring at me, so I moved across the room, and its eyes followed me. I went to the side of the TV, slightly behind it, and it still turned in my direction. I swear I'm not crazy."

"I don't think you are."

"And then I noticed that he had curly, brown hair and green eyes and that he was wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt. It was Teddy."

The shrink stops jotting down notes into her book. She uncrosses her legs and sits forward. With furrowed brows, she asks, "Are you sure you saw Teddy?"

"It was him."

She walks to the door and unlocks it. "Mr. Gallowirz, you need to listen to me and listen very carefully. You need to get as far from here as possible. That was not Teddy."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not the first to see the shadow, but you are the first to see the shadow again."

"The shadow? That thing on the tower? That thing killed Teddy?"

"That thing didn't kill Teddy."

"Then what did?"

"Try to remember, Daniel. You have to remember."

"I don't know." I stumble backward and trip back onto an ottoman.

The shrink chases me and catches herself on the arm of the couch. "Was there anyone else on the TV? You said it was frozen? Who else was there?"

"I don't know. It was the fundraiser for the school. Probably teachers or board members. Yeah, the board was being interviewed, and the mayor."

The shrink walks back to the door, leans back on the metal, and slowly closes it. "The … mayor?"

"He was standing in the back."

She takes shallow breaths and stares through me. "You saw the shadow and Mayor Johnson on the TV? In the same frame?"

"Yeah, I'd know him anywhere. He used to be my dad's lawyer, and he came over for dinner all the time. We lost touch, especially after I moved to California, and then life got really busy, and now I'm here again after all these years because my mom is sick."

She scurries back to her notebook and flips through the pages. "Mr. Johnson?"

"Yeah."

"Mr. Johnson is Mayor Johnson."

"Yes?"

"Daniel, that couldn't have been him."

"I, no, no, it was. It was him."

She sits back down. "The mayor died three weeks ago."

---