The Shadows

I've been followed my whole life. I don't know what they are. I see dark figures out of the corner of my eye. I hear strange noises from other parts of the house at night. I swear, sometimes I notice my wife walk into the room but when I look up I'm alone. It scares the shit out of me.
Every day on the way to and from work I pass a storefront with a neon eyeball in the window. The sign reads "Palm Reader & Tarot." I decided to stop in. If it's a phony, I might lose a couple bucks. But maybe they can help.
I walked through the front door, a little bell ringing to announce my arrival. 
"Get out." There was a middle-aged woman sitting behind a glass case of what looked like rocks and potions. Her stare actually felt cold.
"I need help," I replied. 
"I can't do anything for you." Her gaze never warmed. 
"But these things are following me. They're everywhere. What are they? How do I get rid of them?" I pleaded.
"For you," she shrugged, "simply tell them to leave."
"What are they?" I asked.
"Shadow people. They're little minions who carry out evil deeds for bigger, more powerful evil beings," she said. "Go. Now."
"Why are they following me?" I asked. "Why are there so many of them?"
"Because," she replied, "they're waiting for you to give them their orders."

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