Witch {Book One} [UNEDITED]

XXVI: Imaginary Friend

"The hell was that?!" I exclaimed, making sure everyone else heard the noise. I didn't wait for a reply before running to the room that was the source of the noise. In the middle of the floor was a shattered vase with a piece of paper stuck under the glass shards. I bent down and picked the paper up. 

"Read it," Sammy said from behind me. I turned, accidentally stepping on a shard of glass. I barely even noticed. 

"'Roulette.' That's all it says. Just 'Roulette.'" I showed the paper to Sammy, who took it and passed it around to everyone else so they could see. 

"Roulette? Like, Russian Roulette?" Alice made a finger gun and pointed it at her head. "We get to shoot our brains out? Let's do it." 

"Shut up, Alice," Gabriel said, snatching the paper from her. Alice rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Maybe it's not Russian Roulette. Maybe we just get to play a game of chance." 

"Oh, come on, Gabey," Alice said. "You would fucking love shooting your angel brains out."

"Ain't denyin' shit, honey. I'd love to shoot my angel brains out. But I don't think this is Russian Roulette," he retorted. 

"Both of you!" I snapped, taking the note back. Both of them shut their mouths. 

>>>

I had an imaginary friend when I was a kid. She was taller than me and had curly blonde hair. She liked cats and reading and was usually quiet. I brought her to kindergarten and first grade with me. I left her at home in second grade and I forgot about her in third. 

She never told me her name but every night before bed she would kiss my forehead and say "I love you." 

She would tell me the her mommy was evil and wanted to kill her and that she needed to stay with me so I could keep her safe. I never questioned her. Instead I let her sleep on my neon pink beanbag chair and had tea parties with her. She liked mint tea with two sugar cubes. I hated that. I would only drink green tea that was drowned in milk and sugar. 

My imaginary friend also left me notes. She put them under my pillows and between the pages of my books and in my lunchbox and in my homework and on my hairbrush. She had pretty, spidery handwriting that I always tried to copy but never could. She looped her l's and dotted her i's with a splatter of ink. It was perfect calligraphy. 

She said she was sixteen and I thought she was the oldest person ever. I was five. Everyone at school thought she was weird but I thought that was because they couldn't see her. 

Or maybe it was because they could see her.

>>>

I went straight to my room, rereading the note over and over again. The handwriting looked incredibly familiar but I couldn't place it. I paced around, blood from my earlier cut staining the rug. I didn't mind. Or notice. Both. The room was cold but I also didn't mind. Or notice. Again, both. 

"Roulette . . ." I muttered to myself. "Maybe Gabey is right . . . Russian Roulette? Do we all have to shoot ourselves and hope we don't die?" 

"Maybe." I jumped at the sound of Sammy's voice. I turned and there she was, smugly leaning against the doorframe. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in two braids and she was wearing a loose black dress and striped socks. 

"Maybe what?" I asked once I calmed myself down. 

"You're bleeding." 

"Irrelevent. Maybe what?" 

"Maybe we have to shoot ourselves and hope we don't die." 

I raised an eyebrow. 

"Now your foot. You're bleeding and you might need stitches." I rolled my eyes and sat on my fluffy bed, holding my foot out for Sammy to examine. She knelt down and looked at it. Blood surrounded a shallow gash on the heel of my foot. She silently got up and left. A minute later she returned with a neon Hello Kitty bandaid. She put it on my foot and stood up.