The+Shadow

It can be assumed that most little girls do not like tripping old ladies. That they like dolly-dressing, skip ropes and tea parties, not anything mean. Most little

girlies are sugar and spice, and everything nice. They think boys are gross and

unicorns are cool. That broccoli is yucky and teddy bears rule. Most little girlies

are cute and just fine, most but not all, not Valentine…

Now for the story--

Mrs. Henderson walked down the street. Her slipper-encased feet shuffling slowly and her giant handbag, full of hard candies, was only supported by her rusty-wheeled walker. She had just finished Bingo, her favourite pastime, and was walking back to the elderly home where she lived, two buildings away. The trip usually only took her half an hour, but little did she know, today’s trip would be longer. Mrs. Henderson was halfway there now, just passing the tall oak tree that her cat, Mr. Fluffers, was rescued from not long ago. Mrs. Henderson was remembering that terrible day when, out of the corner of her eye, passed her horn-rimmed glasses, a prescription of four hundred, she saw what would soon be her demise.

When Mrs. Henderson passed the oak tree her walker triggered a trip wire which promptly released a ball down a chute. The ball rolled, unnoticed by everyone, into a dumbbell. The ball had just enough force to knock it off. The dumbbell fell and became the weight of a pulley system which lifted a pencil which, by some perfectly calculated equation, tipped a bucket off the branch of the oak tree where it was situated. The bucket slid, perfectly timed, down it’s rope from tree to lamp post.

The bucket raced towards Mrs. Henderson and, before she could do anything, it met her padded shoulder. The force was not enough to tip her over though. Years of line dancing had made sure of that. Mrs. Henderson did, however, stumble backwards into a conveniently placed shopping cart. She thought it was her lucky break until she rolled down the street. People watched helplessly as Mrs. Henderson froze with shock and zoomed into the duck pond where she went every Tuesday to feed the ducks. Everyone watched in horror as a tall man in a black coat helped her out of the shopping cart and on to her now soggy feet. The crowd cheered as Mrs. Henderson and her savior walked to the edge of the water unharmed, but, a few meters from shore, a rock, just in the wrong place, blocked Mrs. Henderson’s foot and tripped her. A hidden camera snapped a picture of the falling Mrs. Henderson, and as she fell head first into the mud, the cheering from the crowd stopped. When she was helped up, her wrinkled face and over-rosy cheeks covered in mud, the people cringed at what they knew they were going to hear.

Valentine watched her brilliant plan succeed, as she knew it would, and waited for the right moment. She opened her mouth, readied her throat and let out the worst evil laugh her shrill little voice could create. Valentine smiled as her voice reverberated off the buildings, shattered windows and invaded people’s heads, metaphorically of course. She had been practicing that laugh since grade 1, two years ago. It started out just a little chuckle, but then turned into the symbol of terror it is today.

The crowd was terrified. That sound, that nails-on-a-chalkboard sound. As if the screechy, high-pitched, ear piercing sound wasn’t enough, what the laugh symbolized was worse. The sound meant that another victim had been taken by “The Shadow.” People slumped down the street, knowing another one of their own had been hit. The usual routine ensued, the people selected this week helped poor Mrs. Henderson home, and the rest thought about who would be next.

After she collected the camera, Valentine rode home, well to what home she had. Prissy Miss Orphanage was just across town. She rode on her tricked-out skateboard. It was an amazing piece of fused metal, of her own design, and it could roll about two hundred kilometers an hour. No big deal… Valentine knew that, with that speed, she would arrive at her “home” very soon. Prissy Miss Orphanage was ruled by Nanny Ethel, however it wasn’t ruled in the sense that Ethel was an honored and respected leader, it was ruled in the sense that, if the children did not say it was ruled by her, Ethel would see to it that they did not have a mouth to protest with. Duct tape was her favourite method of doing this, and Valentine could believe it hurt. She had never actually been caught in the act of doing something bad, so as she walked through the double steel doors, instead of staring at her feet, or crying like the other children, she walked up to the guard and through the doors boldly, powerful and with a smile on her face.

Ethel hated that girl, Valentine, a disgusting name. That evil child had been nothing but trouble for her from day one. Valentine had been dropped off, a little baby, nine long, horrid years ago. She had made her first impression very quickly after, by biting Nanny Ethel’s nose. Ethel remembered that day as she felt her scared nose and looked upon the monitor in her office. There she was, walking up to the doors as if she had a right to be there. Ethel had spent every penny of the building’s earnings on a new state-of-the-art security system. Every inch of the grounds were under constant surveillance and loaded with triggers to prevent any snot-nosed child from getting out, or in. The ones that tried to run away failed, and were brought back through those doors in shame. One however, passed through those doors not in shame, but in spite. Valentine could get out of the Orphanage any time she wanted. It was horrible, and every time she came back through those doors, it was like she was saying, “too easy.”

As she walked through the doors, Valentine knew that Nanny Ethel would be screaming mad. Every time Valentine escaped and walked back in, of her own free will, the same routine ensued. There would be an announcement on the intercom that echoed through the cold, dark hallways telling Valentine to report to Nanny Ethel’s office immediately. She would turn right down the hall and open the door to the office. Usually the only way to open the door was with a key that the guard situated there had, but the guard had given Valentine the key because she was there every day. You see, the guards hated Ethel almost as much as the children and they loved to see her face when she was mad. The key clicked into position and the door creaked open with a horrible squeaking sound that Ethel refused to have fixed. She liked the way it made people cringe.

Here she is, thought Ethel, the devil herself. Valentine stepped through the door with that same snicker on her face, that smug smile of evil! She took her seat, without Ethel asking her to, and stared her right in the eyes. Valentine had always been the only child with enough courage to make eye-contact with her. Every other sniveling child was too frightened to even glance in her direction. When they were in a conversation with Ethel, they would stare at the ground. No matter how many times Valentine looked at her, Ethel was always caught off guard. “You think you would be used to it by now,” said Valentine, “I come here almost every day and have this very same conversation.” “… Yes, however-“ Valentine interrupted, “I know your arrogant mind has still not gotten around the concept of someone, especially a little girl, that is smarter, and, all around better then you in every way.” “Not every way,” Nanny Ethel hastily shot back, “…I am very much taller then you.” “Ah yes, and what we lack in brains is made up by body.” There was an eerie silence, followed by the shrill voice of Ethel. “How dare you! Insulting a grown woman who is by far your elder, the wise and knowing people of this earth should be respected.” Valentine smiled, and then said, “Well I guess then you do not apply, yes you are older, and uglier, then me, I think anyone could tell that. However I do not believe you to be neither wise nor knowing. You are quite possibly on of the most foolish people I have ever met.” Nanny Ethel suddenly calmed down from her enraged fit and said solemnly, bending low to Valentine’s face, “You will regret saying that someday.” Then she sat back up and in her screechy voice called two guards to take Valentine to her room.

Valentine was not even fazed by that conversation, almost every week Nanny Ethel threatened her with the “You will regret it” line, and nothing ever happened. Her room was separated from all the others and had heavy 24hour guard. Valentine did not mind being separated though, it meant more space, and none of the other kids really liked her anyways. They were all scared of her or thought she was weird. And a select few were just plain jealous. Her little room was very bland, Nanny Ethel only allowed for a bed and a dresser. She thought, in her crazy, twisted mind, that any display of colour or imagination in a room was vulgor. The only spash of colour in the room was the mosaic of pictures on the left wall. Nanny Ethel had to, by law, allow her girls to keep pictures that they would like to keep, like their deceased parents or siblings. Valentine never knew her parents, but she assumed they were either former presedents or rocket scientists, so she kept some different pictures. Valentine had a mural of all the elderly people she had tripped. In the top left corner of the wall, sat Mrs. Poppins. She was Valentine's Kindergarten teacher, and the sight of her curly hair and blue eyes always plunged Valentine into the same flashback.

The simple equation, 2+2, was drawn on the board. This was annoying to Valentine, she already knew calculus and algebra. In fact, the only thing helpful about the lesson on the board, was that it gave her spare time. You see, Kindergarten is packed full of playing blocks, of drawing pictures and of learning the alphabet. But, in Valentine's opinion, it was lacking in logic. During all her spare time, Valentine formulated plans, ingenious plans that were unmatched by any others. Mrs. Poppins was the first teacher in a long line of teachers that Valentine hated with all her might. On a side note, the list was long because every teacher that taught Valentine lasted no longer than a month, Valentine saw to that. There was Mrs. Poppins, Mrs. McKinnley, Mr. Fruger, Miss. Annabelle, Ms. Jacobs, Mr. Houseman, Mr. Chow, Mrs. Gingersnap, Miss. Grassland, Ms. Ike, and finally Nanny Ethel. Ethel was different however, she did not teach Valentine in the classroom, therefore she had lasted for as long as Valentine could remember. Not all of the teachers made the wall though, because some were too young to be considered elderly. Anyways, back to the flashback.

The plan was set in motion as soon as Mrs. Poppins walked passed Valentine's desk, as she walked she tripped on the wire stationed there. That's it. What? Simplicity, is genious itself, and Valentine had that down to an art.

Valentine could remember that day well, for one thing it was only 3 years ago, but it also was the reason that Valentine started her crazy obsession with tripping people. It was like saying you could have destroyed someone, but they are not worth your time. -