Rachel Swain
My eyes widened in horror as it materialized in front of me, imaginary, nonexistent, and suddenly it’s here. As children many of us think up unspeakable things, silly and illogical, it’s only natural to have an imagination that runs wild. They sought comfort in beings of fantasy, calling them their friends. But my beings never offered any comfort, and I certainly wouldn’t call them friends.
As a kid —and to this day— I hardly dream, only fear. I used the reality to hide from my mind, and my mind to hide from reality. But this black and goopy monster would always breach any feelings of safety.
It cocks its head to get a better look at me, and I find myself doing the same to examine it. It’s a mess, this one a big black dog, where its flesh melts away like candle wax, and it’s sides drip like paint. I can see it’s bones where its’ skin has gone most of the way, its’ ribcage, paws, jaw, and the rest bleeds continuously without any signs of stopping. It smells wretched and dead, and it’s eyes are a flash of pure red.
In my young age I had called it the “drip”, a nightmare that came in many different forms. Sometimes wild animals, others birds or pets. I’ve even seen it human-like before, with an extra set of arms like a spiders. It might even be the most terrible thing I can think of after seeing it set fire to buildings and eat its own kind alive. And the worst part was that they never made a sound, mute except for the splatter of their flesh on the floor.
I stare down the busy street to see if anyone notices it, hoping for blank faces, that no one has seen it, but wandering eyes and terrified shrieks tell me otherwise. The heavy splatter behind says this drip isn’ t the only one.
I spin around rapidly to face the second, a tall panther that sports a long, horned skull atop its head. Its hackles raise as it hisses, but the warning is absent of sound. There’s a third, a plump vulture, sitting on a street light. I keep searching, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth.
My heart races when the hellish dog jumps for a child and it’s mother just feet away, paralyzed by shock and fear for several moments. Then my instincts kick in. I grab a pipe from the construction site nearby, the large capital building that takes up half a square block, and drive it into the head of the beast. It whips around to face me, its eyes fixated on the weapon I yield.
The mother cries as she grabs her son and runs as far as she can, starting the confused panic that erupts as everyone races away. I force myself to hold my ground as they flee.
I must have brought these monsters here, my brain screams. I swallow the lump in my throat as I point the pipe at the creature’s vicious fangs. It’s only fair that I’m the one who sends them back to wherever they came from.
Monica Turntine
Kapow! Suddenly a dinosaur is standing before me. He’s a little taller than me and kinda looks like a raptor. Upon closer inspection, I realize he’s wearing a collar with the name… Lucy? As in Lucy the Dilophasaurus? Was this really happening? My imaginary friend was alive? “Lucy?” I asked, stepping closer. He looks at me and makes a chirping sound, shoving his head under my hands. I begin to pet him. “It really is you!” I yelled excitedly, and the dinosaur roars triumphantly. Hugging him, I pull out my phone to take a picture. “You’re going on Instagram,” I say, setting the photo as my new lock screen.
Megan Koch
Kapow! My bedroom door slammed open. I jerked my head up from the book I was reading. Impossible! My heart skipped a beat; she was actually here. Her long, orange hair fell past her ankles and gathered on the floor...her emerald eyes sought out my own. “Maive,” my voice was barely a whisper. She nodded. I slid from my desk chair and crept towards her. “You’re real? You’re here?” Again she only nodded. Maive didn’t speak much. She had come to me knowing that I needed someone to listen, just as she had years ago. She closed the distance between us, and her arms enveloped me. Resting my head on her shoulder, I let a single tear fall. "Happy tears are the best tears" Maive had once told me.
Marissa McNeese
Kapow! Boom. There I stood I looking at my imaginary best friend. She looks just like me...no she is me. Same voice, same personality, same everything. If I moved my arm she followed those same actions. Then I realized...was she imaginary or was it I?
Kassidy Kessler
Kapow! My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the beautiful boy in front of me. His rust-colored curls bounced atop his head. His baby blue eyes brighter than the sky itself. His pale skin speckled with a thousand freckles. I couldn’t help but blush. He was simply stunning in every way… and I couldn't help but fall in love again. With the boy I thought I would never see again. He hugged me, and before I could realize, I was crying. Not of sadness, but of joy. For the love I thought I would never be able to find again… had found its way back to me.
Emily Swain
Kapow! Bang! Splash! Splash! What in the world is happening in my bath?
I rush in the room. I look around. You will never ever believe what I found!
The best friend of mine, who doesn’t exist, has appeared in front of me; it’s impossible to miss!
My dear friend Emilia, from when I was little, has appeared in a bath full of skittles!!
“What a time to be alive! My dear old friend!” Emilia said with a grin on her, asking me for my
hand, which I began to extend.
“Where’s Maria? What about Lucy?” I asked my imaginary twin. “They’re flying in from fairy
school! They’re coming from Berlin!”
This is bizarre, I think to myself, only when I was a kid did I believe in fairies or elves.
As I turned to my friend, my dear old imaginary twin, I began to smile. I broke out in a grin.
This was a dream! More comforting than most! It reminded me to cherish my childhood’s
ghost!
Cadence Bell
Kapow! I awake at three AM to a loud explosion and see Meghan, my imaginary best friend standing in my doorway. “Hey what’s up my Broslice?” she asks nonchalantly, leaning on my door frame. I sit up in my bed and turn on my lamp. “Meghan? what are you doing here? I thought you were in Florida keeping tabs on all the new Disney renovations?” She nodded, “I was doing that but you haven’t come to Disney in so long! I was getting bored without you. Meeting Tinkerbell just isn’t the same.” I nod, and stare at her in amazement. I had almost forgotten about her… oopsies. “So… you’re real now?” I ask. She rolls her eyes, “I’ve always been real… you just keep forgetting me.”
To be continued...
Brianna Griesenauer
KAPOW!
I shielded my eyes as the large blast happened. I had done it. I had finally found the right spell to bring about my friend. My greatest friend. My… imaginary friend was no longer imaginary. I slowly removed my arms from my eyes, looking at the being in front of me. A gentle, yet determined face. A caring, yet intense gaze. The incredible mix of perfection and imperfection. The being gave me an odd smirk that I thought nothing of. I reached out a hand to touch the being, only to fall right through them. My first thought was that I could only see them, not touch them, but I soon realized my fault. My skin, clothes, hands, everything...clear. I looked back in fear at the creation. That smirk told me everything. They knew that nothing could be created… without losing something in return.
My eyes widened in horror as it materialized in front of me, imaginary, nonexistent, and suddenly it’s here. As children many of us think up unspeakable things, silly and illogical, it’s only natural to have an imagination that runs wild. They sought comfort in beings of fantasy, calling them their friends. But my beings never offered any comfort, and I certainly wouldn’t call them friends.
As a kid —and to this day— I hardly dream, only fear. I used the reality to hide from my mind, and my mind to hide from reality. But this black and goopy monster would always breach any feelings of safety.
It cocks its head to get a better look at me, and I find myself doing the same to examine it. It’s a mess, this one a big black dog, where its flesh melts away like candle wax, and it’s sides drip like paint. I can see it’s bones where its’ skin has gone most of the way, its’ ribcage, paws, jaw, and the rest bleeds continuously without any signs of stopping. It smells wretched and dead, and it’s eyes are a flash of pure red.
In my young age I had called it the “drip”, a nightmare that came in many different forms. Sometimes wild animals, others birds or pets. I’ve even seen it human-like before, with an extra set of arms like a spiders. It might even be the most terrible thing I can think of after seeing it set fire to buildings and eat its own kind alive. And the worst part was that they never made a sound, mute except for the splatter of their flesh on the floor.
I stare down the busy street to see if anyone notices it, hoping for blank faces, that no one has seen it, but wandering eyes and terrified shrieks tell me otherwise. The heavy splatter behind says this drip isn’ t the only one.
I spin around rapidly to face the second, a tall panther that sports a long, horned skull atop its head. Its hackles raise as it hisses, but the warning is absent of sound. There’s a third, a plump vulture, sitting on a street light. I keep searching, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth.
My heart races when the hellish dog jumps for a child and it’s mother just feet away, paralyzed by shock and fear for several moments. Then my instincts kick in. I grab a pipe from the construction site nearby, the large capital building that takes up half a square block, and drive it into the head of the beast. It whips around to face me, its eyes fixated on the weapon I yield.
The mother cries as she grabs her son and runs as far as she can, starting the confused panic that erupts as everyone races away. I force myself to hold my ground as they flee.
I must have brought these monsters here, my brain screams. I swallow the lump in my throat as I point the pipe at the creature’s vicious fangs. It’s only fair that I’m the one who sends them back to wherever they came from.
Monica Turntine
Kapow! Suddenly a dinosaur is standing before me. He’s a little taller than me and kinda looks like a raptor. Upon closer inspection, I realize he’s wearing a collar with the name… Lucy? As in Lucy the Dilophasaurus? Was this really happening? My imaginary friend was alive? “Lucy?” I asked, stepping closer. He looks at me and makes a chirping sound, shoving his head under my hands. I begin to pet him. “It really is you!” I yelled excitedly, and the dinosaur roars triumphantly. Hugging him, I pull out my phone to take a picture. “You’re going on Instagram,” I say, setting the photo as my new lock screen.
Megan Koch
Kapow! My bedroom door slammed open. I jerked my head up from the book I was reading. Impossible! My heart skipped a beat; she was actually here. Her long, orange hair fell past her ankles and gathered on the floor...her emerald eyes sought out my own. “Maive,” my voice was barely a whisper. She nodded. I slid from my desk chair and crept towards her. “You’re real? You’re here?” Again she only nodded. Maive didn’t speak much. She had come to me knowing that I needed someone to listen, just as she had years ago. She closed the distance between us, and her arms enveloped me. Resting my head on her shoulder, I let a single tear fall. "Happy tears are the best tears" Maive had once told me.
Marissa McNeese
Kapow! Boom. There I stood I looking at my imaginary best friend. She looks just like me...no she is me. Same voice, same personality, same everything. If I moved my arm she followed those same actions. Then I realized...was she imaginary or was it I?
Kassidy Kessler
Kapow! My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the beautiful boy in front of me. His rust-colored curls bounced atop his head. His baby blue eyes brighter than the sky itself. His pale skin speckled with a thousand freckles. I couldn’t help but blush. He was simply stunning in every way… and I couldn't help but fall in love again. With the boy I thought I would never see again. He hugged me, and before I could realize, I was crying. Not of sadness, but of joy. For the love I thought I would never be able to find again… had found its way back to me.
Emily Swain
Kapow! Bang! Splash! Splash! What in the world is happening in my bath?
I rush in the room. I look around. You will never ever believe what I found!
The best friend of mine, who doesn’t exist, has appeared in front of me; it’s impossible to miss!
My dear friend Emilia, from when I was little, has appeared in a bath full of skittles!!
“What a time to be alive! My dear old friend!” Emilia said with a grin on her, asking me for my
hand, which I began to extend.
“Where’s Maria? What about Lucy?” I asked my imaginary twin. “They’re flying in from fairy
school! They’re coming from Berlin!”
This is bizarre, I think to myself, only when I was a kid did I believe in fairies or elves.
As I turned to my friend, my dear old imaginary twin, I began to smile. I broke out in a grin.
This was a dream! More comforting than most! It reminded me to cherish my childhood’s
ghost!
Cadence Bell
Kapow! I awake at three AM to a loud explosion and see Meghan, my imaginary best friend standing in my doorway. “Hey what’s up my Broslice?” she asks nonchalantly, leaning on my door frame. I sit up in my bed and turn on my lamp. “Meghan? what are you doing here? I thought you were in Florida keeping tabs on all the new Disney renovations?” She nodded, “I was doing that but you haven’t come to Disney in so long! I was getting bored without you. Meeting Tinkerbell just isn’t the same.” I nod, and stare at her in amazement. I had almost forgotten about her… oopsies. “So… you’re real now?” I ask. She rolls her eyes, “I’ve always been real… you just keep forgetting me.”
To be continued...
Brianna Griesenauer
KAPOW!
I shielded my eyes as the large blast happened. I had done it. I had finally found the right spell to bring about my friend. My greatest friend. My… imaginary friend was no longer imaginary. I slowly removed my arms from my eyes, looking at the being in front of me. A gentle, yet determined face. A caring, yet intense gaze. The incredible mix of perfection and imperfection. The being gave me an odd smirk that I thought nothing of. I reached out a hand to touch the being, only to fall right through them. My first thought was that I could only see them, not touch them, but I soon realized my fault. My skin, clothes, hands, everything...clear. I looked back in fear at the creation. That smirk told me everything. They knew that nothing could be created… without losing something in return.