The Shadow That Walks Ahead of Me

It begins on a quiet evening walk. The protagonist steps under a streetlight and freezes. Their shadow stretches forward unnaturally, bending at an angle that doesn't match their body. And then-before they move-the shadow takes a step ahead of them. At first, it's subtle. A twitch. A shift. A slight delay. But soon the shadow behaves like someone else entirely. It points toward places the protagonist has never been.
It lingers behind people who pass by. It waits at corners, watching them approach. And sometimes. it's not attached to their feet at all. As the days go on, disturbing signs multiply:. reflections show the shadow doing things the protagonist isn't. old photos begin to warp-showing the shadow in positions the protagonist never stood in. animals react to the shadow, not to them. a stranger insists: "It found you again, didn't it?" The protagonist discovers that their shadow is not a reflection-it's a remnant, a warning, or a version of them that walked a different path. And it is trying to lead them back to something they once escaped.