Inner Memories

I would not describe myself as someone with many fabricated beliefs. Nor would I describe myself as gullible but there was something weird going on in the basement of the home I grew up in.
 
There remains a period of time when a little shadow of a man or boy used to run back and forth along the wall in a room in our basement. My brother and I would both see him and we came to call him Mr. Shadow.
 
It is true kids tend to be predisposed and hypersensitive to their inventive imaginations but these visits persisted over an extent of time, exposing themselves in contradistinctive ways.
 
Later, as a juvenile delinquent pot smoking teenager my coolness was on the line so I set up my stereo, brought my record collection down into this room and cranked heavy metal music, defying him and his little spectral buddies to try and freak me out.
 
Which he did.