Wilt You Be There? - Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends

Rightful Place

           "Well, here we are, honey! Make your goodbye quick; the plane's leaving very early today!" My creator's mother poked her head from the passenger's seat and smiled an unfeeling smile at me.

           "Come on, Runa," Sophie opened the car door to reveal my new home. I stared with numbing pain at its open gates and the path leading to its doors like a red carpet. Taking a hold of her hand, I stepped out of the mini-van.

           We inched closer and closer, and it felt like this walk was forever. I really had nothing to say... there was really no need to. I softened my eyes at Sophie's head ‒ it was hung low, and all the while our elbows were linked with an unsatisfying feel of warmth. This warmth would soon be nothing. We finally reached the steps and slouched towards the door.

          "Really gonna miss you, Runa," she pulled out a slightly wrinkled, but neatly folded object from her inside pocket and handed it to me. "Sorry I couldn't buy a frame... I hope they can give you one here." I took it from her and unfolded it. It was of us. Her first 3-mile race we ran together. We were mostly covered in mud; the trail had an accidental mud pool from a shower that occured a few minutes prior to the race. A third place medal was brought home that day; it was great.

           We reached the door and faced each other. "Friends forever?" she drew a cross on her chest. 

           "Forever," I nodded and mimicked her.

           "This is how you smile," she pointed at her face which revealed a toothy grin. She used to do this whenever we didn't place in a race‒it was a form of encouragement, and this was her way of cheering me up. She was the older sister in our friendship, as she imagined me just a few years younger than her. Standing in this moment felt bittersweet.

          She knocked on the door before quickly spinning around to go back. I guess she didn't want to see me go in. She ran to the car, and upon enterance, instantly sped away. I guess I'd no longer see her.

          "Why hello, dear!" A woman not too old answered and looked up at me. She was followed by a rabbit, who was most likely a butler. 

          "Have I come to the right place? Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends? 1-1-2-3, Wilson Way...?" I recalled from a small notecard I had written the information onto a few weeks ago. The lady offered a warm smile and opened the door wider. 

           "Right as a fish in the sea, darling! Come in, come in!" Luckily the door was my exact height, so I really didn't need to crouch or anything to enter. I looked up at the ceiling.

           "Wow... this is really huge... Miss..um..-"

          "Madame Foster," she chimed in. "Now, don't worry about your little self in here. Getting around may be quite a hassle, but nonetheless a hassle full of adventure! He he he!" She shook an enthusiastic fist in the air and her bunny butler hopped to me and coughed.

           "Mhm, yes, an adventure indeed. However, these adventures must be safely restrained by a set of rules. Rules that‒"

           "Aw cool it, bunny boy! Let's get our dearie settled into her new home!" She turned to me, "I'll provide you with a grand house tour." She skipped over to a wire-attached intercom and called into it, "Wilt! New friend! Please give her a welcoming tour of this glorious house!" I heard echoes of her voice from where I was standing.

           "Now if you'll excuse us," she evilly smirked, "I've got a chess game to settle! Come along, soon-to-be LOSER!" She grabbed the rabbit by the paws and quickly led themselves into the depths of this new, seemingly-empty home‒except for the person she just called for. At least there's one other person here.

           No sooner than a few seconds after they left, I heard squeaks emerging from either stepsin front of me. Revealing himself was a very tall, lanky imaginary.. My tour guide? After he stepped foot on the ground level, I quickly compared our heights. He was, indeed, taller than me. Although, not by so much; my head reached the end of his broken arm. I really was going to doubt me keeping up with a small tour guide for a second there, but nevermind. 

           "Why, hey there! You must be our new imaginary friend!" He looked down upon me and extended his hand towards mine. 

           I shook it. "I guess I am, I'm Runa." I surfaced a faint smile. I watched as Wilt's happy face contorted into a lightly confused one. 

           "Hey," he patted my back, "it's all going to be okay; you just have to take a little more time to get used to this place! Now, if it's alright, I'll go on ahead and give you the tour! Is that okay?"    

           In reply, I just simply nodded my head and returned the smile. 

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           "...and here we are... back to the main room!" he smiled one last big smile and I heard his broken eye rattle for the umpteenth time.

          "There aren't very many friends in here, are there?" As I had only managed to seek out a few: a football, an imaginary with an eye where it's bottom should be, and a four-legged one, this place must have not been housing too many friends. Either that, or everybody else was asleep. At the middle of the day. 

            "Of course there isn't! This home had recently opened! I'm glad you could make it here, Runa, sorry about your creator." He'd most likely noticed my incredulous silence throughout the tour.

           "It's fine, really," I assured. "Do I get my own room?"

           "Oh! Sorry about that! I completely forgot! Let me ask‒"

           "WILT!" he quickly stopped and whipped his head around to face me. "Uh, stay here for a while, will you? I mean there's basically no one in the house.. what else could you be doing..." I trailed off. So far, Wilt has been one of the nicest I've ever met. I want him to be my friend... The loss of Sophie was really taking its toll on me, even if it's just been only an hour or so since she'd left. But truth is, I feel miserable. 

           "I'm sorry but, don't you want to see your room?" he asked. 

           "Well, not now... I'm not tired, I'm not going to sleep yet." I kept my gaze to his feet, no matter how easier it was for me to simply look up to his eyes. 

           "Attention, attention!" echoed in the voice of Mr. Bunny from the intercom, "lunch is now served in the dining. All imaginary friends, please do make your way t‒"

           "THE OLD FOSTER WINS AGAIN!! HA HA HA!" I faintly heard in the background before the line was cut short.