I Remember You

001(short story)

          He laid there in bed, quite, still, and inanimate, prepared to doze off at any moment. The room was pitch black; save for the moonlight that had leaked in through the blinds, and the neon red numbers that glowed 11:33 on his alarm clock. He rolled over on his side, pulling his plaid comforter around with him; his eyes were tightly shut, and his breathing slowed. The only sound that could be heard was the hypnotic symphony of the crickets just outside his bedroom window.

          Everything was perfect; however, something was keeping him from drifting into a deep sleep. This was the first time this had ever happened to him; in fact, sleep was quite important in his opinion. It was an awkward situation for him; he honestly didn't know what to do. He swung his eyes back open, pondered for a bit, then decided to sit upright in his bed. He thought, surely, that if he were to wait, just for a minute, he would eventually wax weary.

          Waiting felt like an eternity, and while he was waiting, he tried to make out his surroundings. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the base of the bed and the mountain of clothes that hid behind it. Peering to the left, he could make out his work desk with, what looked like a thousand stacks of paper piled upon it. The hamper--where his clothes should have been--was right beside it, and so was the trash bin. He shifted once more, farther left this time, and expected to see nothingness in the corner, but this was not the case--not this time.

          In the corner of his bedroom he saw something darker and much blacker than night. It took no form, but it was there--stalking it seemed. Fear--a different kind than man is used to--overcame him in an instant. he was frozen in fear, and he dare not move, but 'it' knew it had been seen. 'It' stepped forth boldly from the corner and persisted to visit his bedside.

          He tried to compose himself and then attempted to create words with his trembling lips. "Wh-what are you?" He said with great hesitance. 'It' finally took a more comprehensible form; 'It' took the form of a leopard. An odd choice of form, to be sure, but it somehow calmed his nerves, and he somewhat relaxed. 'It' leaped up on the bed and curled up in his lap. The form 'it' had taken was quite large, but ultimately, 'It' had no real weight. This was odd to him, but it was the last thing on his mind at that point.

          'It' finally spoke in reply to his question. " I'm whatever you wish me to be, O mortal man." 'Its' speech was very elegant, very intricate, and well constructed. 'It' then continued, "Yes," it said slowly, as if 'it' had realized something, "I remember you! Now, the real question, my dear boy, might be 'do you remember me?'."

          "H-h-how! How can you remember m-me?" He said with both a surprised and fearful disposition, "We've n-never met before."

          "Ooooh, but on the contrary my dear friend, we have met a plethora of times." 'It' replied enthusiastically, swinging 'its' tail to and thro. "I pray thee then, allow me to retrieve that which you have lost."

          Engulfed in fear, yet morbidly curious, he replied, "O-o-ok."

          "Marvelous!" 'It' bellowed. "Now, where shall I begin, I ponder?" 'It' said as 'it' stood up in front of him and curled 'its' long, black tail around his neck. "Doth you recall a healthy portion of your youth?" 'It' asked.

          His reply was vague and unsure, "Yes--kind-of." 

          "Grand, I say. Do you recollect your 'imaginary' friend?"

          It took him a second, but then the memory hit him, and he began to remember, "Oh, yeah! I called him Ose, he was a--," he stopped abruptly. He then finished his sentence, "a leopard."