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"Y'know.. my family thinks I'm weird because I talk to you, right?" You say to him, looking up at him as he stands in your closet. "It's not like they can see me." He replies in a deep raspy voice, when he spoke it was super quiet.
"They think I'm talking to myself, and want to send me away." He slowly crouched down, crawling out of your closet with ease. He stood back up, standing super tall. "They're mean to me, because of you."
You cross your arms, a sad pout on your face. "I'll get rid of them." He says, stepping closer to you. And as he sits, you feel the edge of your mattress sink, as if someone was actually sitting there.
"You can't, because if you get rid of them, everyone will think it was me." You reply, looking up at him and scooting closer to him. "So?" He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulders, the weight of his arm felt so real.
"Do you want me to look like a psycho?" His arm over your shoulders felt so real, as if he was actually there. And that it wasn't just imagination, an imaginary friend.
"I'll get rid of them, and everyone else that's mean to you." He places a hand on your cheek, pulling your face to meet his. His hand was cold on your cheek, and it felt real. It wasn't imagination.
