Shadows.

Slowly, with nervous, insecure fingers, she touched the photographs, looked at them, rather merely glanced. It was not the photographs that bothered her. Okay, they did, but only a slight bit. It was the uncertainty that was gnawing into her empty recesses. Is it possible for any person to feign anonymity? To block yourself from the prying eyes of the world, to wither within yourself, and then someday, die, a lowly, unimaginative, and neglected death. Well Sybil did that, but she had Dr.Wilbur for comfort for the most part of her life. But, she was no Sybil, not mentally disturbed as much as Sybil. A slight bit, maybe. Not much. Like her grandma would say, "not too much, not too less, sooogar". Funny, she was. She smiled.
The photographs reminded her of an eerie past. Eerie because she was happy then. Not alone and happy. Well, you might ask as to how happiness could be eerie, well for Nina, it could. She was not used to it, the happiness.
It was not too long ago, that the hallucinations started. Not too long ago, when she realized the presence of the very human shadows that kept following her. Not too long ago, that she started dreaming of her own death.
The shadows ruined it all, the happiness, the impending marriage with Aaron. She drove him away, yes it was her all the way, with a little help from the shadows. Trust was a word that she knew nothing of, not anymore.
The would kill her, the shadows. Humiliate her, make crap fun of her. And then ultimately bring her down.
The death was inevitable, now, even more so.