Hey guys, it's me, Agent Pumpkin, but you probably already knew that.

So, the newest chapter of A Day In The Life of a Shadow is here, I'm sorry it took a while; updates will be getting slower, for ALL of my works – hopefully, WaP will be updated some time this weekend. School's started again and I just... ugh, I have a lot to do, especially with this being my last year and all. So yeah, apologies to any really "late" updates (even though I didn't set myself a deadline anyhow), but this is the (good) reason why.

Anyhow, on with the fic!

A Day in the Life of a Shadow: Value.

X x

Today, I witnessed something that I wish I hadn't: a human at their worst. They had reached a point in which they didn't want to continue on any more, the dreaded point in which everything was too much and so they felt they had to end it all. I'm not sure what it's called in the human world, the act of killing yourself, but here, it is called "misplaced judgement" - it describes when a shadow amongst us has misjudged the hardships of being a Being of Darkness (more about those later) and has not adapted well enough to their obligations as demons. It's basically a way to shun shadows who grew weak, while looking good yourself as you haven't swept your duties as a shadow away. It's quite cruel, really.

But to see a human in such despair... it really made me angry. Of everything you can possibly witness as a human, you can witness at least one hundred times worse as a Being of Darkness. I don't understand how one species could be so selfish, and so arrogant as to think that they're the worst off all because they think that they are above everything else. It's as if humans expect the world to shift for them because they have issues; they pray to Gods, and they read odd books and practices to help soothe their anxieties regarding their troubles, but at the end of the day, their beliefs and their prayers are the equivalent of talking to a brick wall.

Because who honestly cares?

It's everybody for themselves, or so I was taught. There have been many occasions in which I have been forced to leave others suffering behind, convincing myself that I was simply doing as I was supposed to. And only now have I realised how disgustingly wrong it is... yet it doesn't stop me believing in it so strongly. It doesn't stop me from thinking that it's all for you, and you should think about yourself because nobody else is going to think about you. It doesn't stop me thinking that everybody, no matter who they befriend and get close to, is only ever really alone.

At the end of the day, everything has to end.

And so why hasn't my nightmare ended?

Everybody else I see come here, has it end. They die. Everybody outside, in the human world, has it end. They reach solutions to their problems, or subtract themselves from the equation of life. Even other shadow's have had it end. They either dispersed into pure darkness in which they cannot retain a somewhat human form (like I do) and so lose all sense of feeling, therefore losing all sense of anxiety and worry and stress. Or, like humans, they die – or get killed.

And yet here I am, stuck in a never ending vortex of agony. Maxwell is never kind. The shadows are never kind. All I am surrounded by is evil, and harshness, and pain. And yet I am the one who is on two feet, standing, and considering that maybe, despite all I've been through, there's a shred of light somewhere that I just missed before. Maybe I haven't been looking hard enough?

...or maybe I am doing the same thing as humans.

Maybe I am excusing my problems with empty promises that had once been made to me, believing in something that isn't actually there. Maybe I have taken it upon myself to trick my mind into believing that somebody, somewhere out there, actually cared about my alarming predicaments. Maybe I have actually dulled, and had a more dense look on life, feeling that somebody was bound to care, because to face the fact that I am alone hurts too much. I was too afraid to face it.

I'm still afraid to face it. But it isn't necessarily because I am alone. It is because I have seen what loneliness does to people, and how it constricts them endlessly. I have seen how hopeless they become... and it is always the same. They lose hope, and they give in. Give in to difficulties that, half of the time, aren't even as bad as they thought in the first place. They end up harming themselves over it – cutting themselves. Why? Did you know that if I had an opportunity to cut myself as a human, I'd take it, and smile? Not because I'm hell-bent on hating myself, not because the "pain relieves" (though honestly, how does it?) but because I'd be completely overjoyed to see blood running through (and out of, I guess) my veins, rather than what currently does run through them. Because do you know what runs through me right now, as I write this?

Nothing. Nothing at all. I am but a figment of Maxwell's imagination – he made me so simply, without a second thought. No personal characteristics thrown in; I made my personality on my own; built myself up like a bridge. But seriously, how many bridges that have been self constructed have you seen? I'll bet your answer is zero. Because of course it isn't possible for an inanimate object to build itself – it has to built up by somebody – or something – else. Which leads me to my next question:

Am I an impossible man?

That makes sense to me, I break all the laws of the Shadow Realm, and Beings of Darkness. I do not even behave like them; the most similar trait I have is my thirst for something more, though the uppers are trying their best to keep things concealed. They won't fool me – nobody fools me, even though I am but a lowly fool myself, as told by the King Maxwell himself. It's a shame, really.

But I pride myself in breaking rules. It isn't that I like to be a rule breaker and make chaos. I just like to feel things. Getting into trouble and doing something I'm not supposed to do has an odd exhilaration that I simply can't refuse from time to time. It has an intoxicating sense of freedom – one that very nearly chokes you, since you know it's within your grasp, but it'll never be yours for the sheer fact that you cannot bring yourself to keep acting out of line. Consistency is key if you wish to be free. But it's something I will never have.

Because I am a coward.

But I'd rather be a coward than the exact same as everybody else.

I'd rather be a coward, than a zombie.

X x

You can tell I have terrible writer's block, since this piece doesn't flow much like his other ones. Yeah, it's intentional, honestly; it really brings out Shadow's curious side of things, I personally believe. Anyhow, I hope you liked it – that's me done for a while.

~Jess~