Overactive Imagination

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Billy was a very lonely boy. No one wanted to play with him or be his friend. He walked alone to school and hardly talked to anyone. His parents were worried about him. It wasn't right for a boy his age to be without anyone. This made Billy sad, so, one night he decided to change that.

Billy sat on his bed and thought really hard. He pictured the perfect friend in his mind. Slowly, he could see someone start to appear on his bed with him. The boy looked exactly like him. Billy called him 'Fred'.

No one could see Fred, except for Billy.

The two were inseparable. They did everything together. This made Billy happy, which, in turn, made his parents happy. All seemed to be going well. But then something happened.

Billy was off playing on the playground. He'd gone to the corner with the sandbox. He and Fred were building sandcastles when some of the school bullies came by.

At first, it was nothing more than the usual teasing. But then, one of the bullies kicked down Billy's sandcastle. They laughed and laughed. But Billy didn't cry.

He stood and said, "You need to apologize."

"What? To you?" One of them asked.

"No." Billy said. "To Fred."

Now, of course, the bullies were confused. To them, it looked like Billy was all by himself.

"Who's Fred?" They asked.

Billy told them. But the bullies began to laugh even harder. Billy didn't like that. No one would laugh at his friend! So, without hesitation, he stepped over to the nearest bully and swung. His fist cracked against the boy's nose. Horrified, the others scattered.

Billy went back to rebuilding his sandcastle.

Later that evening, word from school got to his parents. They couldn't believe that their son had hit someone! When they asked why Billy told them the truth.

"They were making fun of my friend." He said, sadly. "I couldn't let them do that."

This was the first time they had heard mention of Fred. They told Billy that hitting other people wasn't the right thing to do.

"You're only supposed to do that if they try to hurt you." His father said. If they try to hurt Fred, then you can protect him. But only if they are going to hurt him."

"Would Fred be ok to protect me then?" He asked.

"Of course. I don't know Fred's parents, but I wouldn't mind him protecting you." His father smiled and sent Billy off to bed.

Billy was very happy to hear this. He felt sorry for hitting the bully so hard. Next time, he would protect Fred only if he were in danger. Fred, likewise, promised the same thing to Billy.

The next few days, rumors began to spread around school. When Billy would pass by, the other kids said nasty things about him. They didn't believe that Fred was real. Once or twice, some of the kids played a prank on him. He didn't hurt anyone this time and tried to do exactly as his father had said.

Eventually, however, it was let slip that Fred was Billy's imaginary friend. Billy's parents were shocked when they found out. They sat their son down and gently told him that imaginary friends weren't real and that he would need to get a real friend.

Billy was devastated, of course, but he wouldn't abandon Fred. They simply didn't understand. And although he tried very hard to keep Fred a secret from that point on, nosy children would tattle on him. Eventually, Billy had to go see the school counselor, who was, admittedly, very nice at first. But he didn't believe in Fred either.

"He's not real, Billy." The Counselor said on one rainy day. They were in his office on the second floor. A great big window sat behind the Counselor's desk. "Does Fred leave footprints? Can he pick up things?"

"He doesn't," Billy said. "At least, not usually."

"Usually?" The Counselor asked.

"Sometimes, he's like you and me. Other times he isn't. Why is it wrong to believe in my friend?" Billy asked.

The Counselor frowned. In fact, he looked a little angry. "Because it's not healthy. We have to live in reality, Billy. An overactive imagination can be a dangerous thing."

"So if I can prove he exists, you'll believe me?" Billy said.

"I don't think--" The Counselor began.

"I can prove it to you." Billy stood. He looked to Fred in the corner. "Fred! Can you move something for me?"

But the Counselor stood as well. "You need to sit down, Billy. We aren't done here."

"I'm not going to go anywhere." Billy protested. "Sometimes Fred is taller than me. Like today. He looks different too. I like to stand so he can hear me better."

But before Billy had opened his mouth, the Counselor walked over to his chair and grabbed him by the arm.

"I said: Sit down." The Counselor snapped.

"Ow!" Billy said. "You're hurting me!"

"And you hurt my son!" The Counselor said. "You broke his nose because of this imaginary friend of yours!"

The Counselor's grip tightened. He squeezed so hard, Billy thought his arm was going to break. He cried. "Help! Fred, help!"

"Fred isn't going to help you, because Fred isn't real. Now sit down." The Counselor snapped again.

"Help me!" Billy wept.

The Counselor was about to force Billy into his seat when something lifted the man into the air. No one would have seen Fred's slender fingers curl around the Counselor's throat, squeezing the air out like toothpaste from a tube. No one, that is, except for Billy.

When Fred threw the counselor out of the window, all Billy could do was watch as the man screamed on the way down. The splat that followed was deafening.

When the camera footage was released, the school was at a loss for words. They decided to call it an accident. But to those who knew Billy, or more accurately, Billy's friend, they weren't so easily fooled. They were afraid.

After all, the Counselor had been right about one thing: an overactive imagination is a dangerous thing.

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