What if the person you loved was only a delusion?
Seventeen-year-old Charlotte Bennett had an attractive boyfriend, school infamy, and a supportive family until she was ostracized for claiming to see a boy she described as being called "The Wasp Ki...
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I remembered a time that I had long forgotten.
I was about six-years-old and nervously staring at the children on the playground during recess. Every child had already picked out their future best-friend to be, every child except me.
My head was seen as too big, my ears stood out too far and my front teeth looked like they belonged to a rabbit. My mother had overdressed me in pink ruffles, ribbons, socks and shoes.
My outfits changed colors, but everyday was the same, I watched and I waited. Even at home, my mother was building her career in law and my father working his job to help support her dream meant he was never home.
Everywhere, I was alone.
School felt isolating and in a moment of just wanting to have someone notice me, I folded my tiny fingers together and earnestly wished for a friend.
I unraveled my hands to see a wasp had landed on my knuckle.
Gazing up from the curious creature I could see the kids running and screaming. One of the boys had aggravated a wasps nest and they were furiously seeking vengeance on all the children surrounding their home.
They were stinging everyone, but this singular wasp wasn't stinging me. It beat its wings like a butterfly.
The wasp did a small dance against my skin and then he lifted up and landed onto another boy's hand. He looked my age, with blonde hair and a bright smile.
"These will not hurt you," the boy told me.
"Who are you?"
"I am Wasp."
I crinkled my nose. "Wasps are bugs, you are not a bug."
"Because I'm going 'be King Wasp when I grow up." The boy puffed his chest up with pride. He didn't behave like the other boys their age. He didn't run from girls or tease the smaller children.
"I don't have any friends, do you want to be my friend?" He asked.
My wish had come true, I was going to have my first real friend. "Okay."
"We best-friends okay?" He assured me.
"Okay!" I said with confidence.
Everyday that followed was perfection. I spent recesses, lunch and even after-school with Wyatt. He always played anything I suggested and helped open myself to discovering strange, exotic games he claimed were taught to him. There were games like 'worker bee and stealer wasp', the objective was for the 'stealer wasp' to take what the worker bee was hiding. I usually had to play the bee.
When I lost the game and began to cry, Wyatt would say to me. "You can have it back, we can share."
