My mom tells me my shadow is alive.

She says that when I can’t see it, it can run and jump and spin and kick while I’m sitting still.

Sometimes, she says, it goes off to play with other shadows. They play games only shadows know.

Then, just before I can see it again, it sticks itself back to my feet like it never left.

I never believed her. I thought the whole thing was silly.

When I told her that, she just smiled.

One day on the school bus, a boy told me about all the scary monsters that hide in the dark, waiting for me to fall asleep so they can eat me up!

He told me that if I covered up my head with my blanket they can’t get me.

That night, when my mom tucked me in, I asked her about the monsters.

Mom smiled and sat on my bed. “The monsters won’t get you,” she told me.

“How do you know?” I asked. I was still pretty scared.

“Because it’s your shadow’s job to keep them away while you sleep,” Mom said.

“You see, when you can’t see your shadow, it can play on its own. At night, instead of playing, it keeps away all the bad monsters so you can sleep. That’s why nobody has ever been eaten up at night.”

I looked around and, sure enough, my shadow was nowhere to be found.

“But what if it doesn’t come back?” I asked now.

Mom laughed. “Don’t worry, it will. Shadows can’t get hurt. It will fight off all the monsters and come right back.”

She finished tucking me in and kissed me goodnight. “Remember, you don’t have to be afraid. Your shadow will always protect you.”

I’m not scared of the nasty monsters anymore. I told the boy on the bus about my shadow, and how his shadow would protect him, too. Now nobody at school is scared of the dark. Our shadows make sure of that.