Imaginary Friend by M. Silverman

After all we’ve been through together, Elliot is slowly forgetting about me. He has forgotten the hours we spent playing together behind the old oak tree. He has forgotten the fun we had, and the games we played. He has forgotten how his classmates used to tease him for talking to his imaginary friend. Me.

We still play together, sometimes. Only when Elliot is really bored, and none of his new friends are around. He calls my name, and I appear out of the nothingness. We play, but he does not notice that I look different. Perhaps, to him, I have always looked this way. But now, when I look down at myself, I do not see my body. Not clearly, at least.

I am fading.

It started slowly, and I wasn’t quite sure what was happening at first, but it’s clear now. As the days drag on, and Elliot plays with me less and less, I fade. And with each memory of me that slips from his mind, I fade a little more.

It won’t be long now until I’ve completely disappeared. Elliot hasn’t played with me in weeks, and I can barely make out the vague outlines of my figure. I don’t know what will happen once I disappear for good. Maybe nothing. Maybe I die. Or maybe I become another kid’s imaginary friend.


I try not to think of what will happen to me after I disappear, because there is one outcome I still cannot accept. Will not accept. Because if there is one thing worse than death, it would be to float around in this dark, lonely nothingness, forever.

Just the thought of it makes me want to wrap my translucent arms around my see-through body. Elliot was my way out of this place, my escape. He was my only light in this dark, dark, nothingness. Without him, I am alone.


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