"The Puppeteer" [The Puppeteer II]

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By BleedingHeartworks on DeviantArt

It all began when I started to notice quick changes in my mother.

No, it began way earlier than that when I really think about it. Years. Maybe even before I could remember the difference between right and wrong, which is a pretty long time ago. I had always been one of the two brothers in my family. Our mother was single, she always had been ever since I could remember. Our father had bailed out on us when the news about me had arrived. We loved our mother, we really did. She bought us nice clothes even though she couldn't afford it, providing necessary food and making a good home for us. Everything was great, my mom just had some issues with drinking.

It wasn't just a problem, it was a big problem. She stayed single even though she tried to meet others. It would always go well in the beginning until she would change her mind and show the next man out the door. Always the same story with her.

I felt very...alone. My brother wasn't very interested in playing with me, seeing he was about five years older and he always thought of me as the annoying little sibling. But all I wanted was company.

I didn't find any success in making friends in school or during my spare time. I just spent every moment alone. My mom didn't care, of course. She was too busy trying to finish up her work, so she could spend the last hours at home drinking her evenings away.

But I guess every single second of loneliness brought something out of me. I started to...daydream. A lot. Making imaginary friends was one of my favorite hobbies. Yes, a hobby. I made new ones so often it was hard to keep up - even for me.

You see, there was this particular imaginary friend.

He wasn't like the others. This was the only one who gave me more peace than anything. He'd play with me, of course, but he only came around night time. Then we'd talk and fool around making super sure my mom didn't hear my cheerful giggling. He was an expert on many things, but he was the best at crafting and making me puppets. Every day he'd turn up with a new doll, in any design I wanted it to be. That was his thing.

The Puppet Man.

I always managed to escape the fact that I had imaginary friends, but with him...It was hard to deny he was actually there. Because I knew he was. Every night when he said I had to sleep, he stood by for another hour just to watch and make sure that I was actually falling asleep. His golden, glowing eyes observing me from afar in the darkness. I stared back at him. His grey face was keeping me calm as he kept smiling towards me. I fell asleep every night.

But I couldn't talk to anyone about the creature visiting me every night.

It was...odd.

Time went on as it should've. I grew up, so did my brother. Only thing that seemed to stay the same was mom's drinking habits. My brother moved out around the age of 18, he couldn't put up with her anymore. I was only 12 at the time and I wouldn't get out of my home for a long, long time. I was waiting patiently though, I suppose that was the only thing I could do when being so...alone.

My imaginary friend never left however, and it started to become a problem. He continued to visit me every single evening, keeping me company. I started to ignore him, I was mad... had to be. At 12 years old the whole imaginary friend deal was ridiculous. I had other things to do anyway. Homework, playing on my playstation 2. I was...content. Not happy. Just neutral. I didn't feel lonely, I left that thought a long time ago. Yet there he was...staring at me with his face hidden beneath the shadows of my room, glowing eyes studying me. Another year passed.

No success.

I eventually got tired of everything. School was being a downer and my mom got worse with her drinking. Even to that point where she started to self harm. She refused to talk to me, even when I tried to. She lost her job, eventually. It was it was something I had wanted to see happen for a long time, it always seemed like something that might help her realize she had a problem... But no, after that my mom wouldn't do anything but sit there...drinking all her problems away. She became angrier with time, everyone noticed so. Everyone who was...well, me. I did everything I could do not stay at home - sleeping over at my aunt's place or even trying to contact my brother. But there was certain nights I had to stay home and it was hell on earth.

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