A quiet, well decorated reception office amina sits stiffly in the waiting area, clutching her bag mrs lawal flips through a magazine, eyes flicking often to her daughter.
Mrs lawal (gentle, low)
Just talk. That's all. No pressure.
Amina nods faintly, though her eyes dart to the wall clock's shadow, which seems to lag half a beat behind the ticking hands.
A nurse steps out.
Nurse
Amina Lawal? The doctor will see you now.
The office is calm, decorated with soft colors. The therapist, Dr. Bello, a middle-aged woman with kind but steady eyes, gestures toward the chair.
Dr.Bello
Please, sit. Take your time. There's no rush here.
Amina sits, fingers twisting the strap of her bag.
Dr.bello
Your mother says you've been having trouble sleeping, and feeling… unsettled. Why don't you tell me in your own words?
Amina hesitates, then blurts out
Amina(rushed, shaky)
It's not just sleep. It's here it follows me. My shadow doesn't… doesn't move right. Sometimes it stays when I don't. Sometimes it smiles.
Dr. Bello listens quietly while jotting down something and then she looks back calmly.
Dr.bello
That sounds very frightening for you.
Amina's breath catches.
Amina (whisper)
You believe me?
Dr.bello
I believe that what you're experiencing feels real and terrifying to you and that's what matters right now your safety, and your peace of mind.
Dr. bello leans forward, her tone firm but gentle.
Dr.Bello
Okay this is what you'd do when you feel it happening when the shadow seems strange I want you to ground yourself. Do three things:
1. Name five things you can see.
2. Name four things you can touch.
3. Name three things you can hear.
It will remind your mind where you are, and give you control.
Amina nods, eyes wet.
Amina
And if it doesn't stop?
Dr.Bello
Then you write it down. Every detail. A logbook. Time, place, what you felt. Bring it to me when next you're coming. We'll look at the patterns together.
Dr. Bello closes her notebook gently.
Dr.Bello
You are not alone in this, amina. We'll take it step by step. I want to see you again next week same day, same time.
Amina exhales, almost a sigh of relief.
Amina (quiet)
Thank you.
Dr.Bello
You're welcome. And remember nothing you feel is "madness." It's something we can work through, together.
Outside, mrs lawal rises quickly.
Mrs lawal
(whispering)
How did it go?
Amina
(small, almost hopeful)
She listened. She… she didn't laugh.
Mrs. Lawal forces a smile, though her relief is tinged with unease. As they walk out, she notices their shadows on the clinic wall perfectly normal.
But Amina's keeps turning its head, as though looking back at the office they just left.
Late at night the apartment is quiet. mrs lawal is asleep in the living room, TV still humming faintly. Amina sits on her bed with her journal, phone on the nightstand, all lights turned on.
She takes a deep breath and begins.
Amina(softly, to herself)
Okay… five things I can see.
She scans the room, steadying her voice.
Amina
The lamp,The curtain,My journal, The door,The window.
She exhales shakily.
Amina(encouraging herself)
Good. Just focus.
Her eyes flicker to the wall. Her shadow is there, as expected but its chest rises and falls breathing though she is perfectly still.
Her lips press together. She looks down quickly, refusing to count it.
Amina(whispering)
Four things I can touch.
She presses her palm to the blanket, the mattress, the book cover, the cool wood of the bedframe.
Amina
One. Two. Three. Four.
Her hand trembles. Slowly, her gaze drifts back to the wall. The shadow's arm is raised but she hasn't moved. It holds the same "touching" pose she made seconds ago, fingers brushing along something invisible on the plaster.
Amina(panicked whisper)
No… don't look. Don't break it. Just finish.
Amina
Three things I can hear. The sound from the TV, her neighbors talking indistinctly outside
She listens hard for a third. Then she hears it faint scratching inside the wall, like nails dragging slow and deliberate.
Her stomach twists.
Amina (forcing herself to continue)
…maybe… pipes. Old pipes.
But the scratching pauses. As if it heard her. Then resumes, slower.
Her eyes watery..
Amkna (weakly)
Two things I can smell. My lotion. The....she sniffs. A damp, sour odor creeps in. Wet plaster. Rot. She clamps her nose shut.
She flips to the final step, desperate to end.
Amina
One thing I can taste… my own saliva.
She swallows hard.
From the wall, her shadow raises its hand. Slowly, deliberately, it spreads out five fingers the number she started with.
Her breath stutters.
Amina (hoarse whisper)
It's… it's doing the exercise too.
Her journal slides from her lap,the shadow tilts its head toward her, smile wide though her lips are still sealed.
The lamp flickers.