It started out with the little things: a pen he'd had on his desk vanishing, a sock going missing in the dryer. Then, he started noticing the shadow. It was always behind his own, but when he turned around, there was nothing there. At first, he thought he'd imagined it. Yet, it happened far too many times to be his imagination. Before long, it started creeping closer, appearing as if he had two shadows instead of one wherever he went. This unnerved him, but he tried to ignore it. Denial is strong, but not strong enough. More things went missing. Shirts, books, even his entire backpack vanished from his room. It became incessant, a constant stream of the things he owned disappearing without a trace. He became paranoid. Refusing to be alone, avoiding his room when his roommate wasn't home. Nothing worked. Things vanished. The shadow crept closer. He began to see it behind him whenever he saw his reflection. Always right over his shoulder, always beside his own shadow as he walked. He refused to sleep in the dark, filling every corner of his room with lamps and flashlights, yet the shadow remained. Always beside where his own would be. He stopped going to class. Things vanished. The shadow crept closer. He covered every reflective surface in his room. Things vanished. The shadow crept closer. He began to tremble as the shadow eclipsed the thin outline of his own. Screams filled his room, then it went silent. Things vanished. The shadow vanished. He had vanished.