Imaginary Friend

Chapter 6 - The Man

I pushed my hair back out of my face, kicking a small pebble across the road. Here I am. Walking home, alone, again. I hate this part of the day. Now I have to kill 6 or 7 hours until Celia gets back. It's been about 12 minutes and I already miss her. I want to talk with her, hang out with her, and just look into her beautiful eyes, hear her adorable laugh, and hug her! ...I'm not obsessed with her, but I am. I'm not obsessed in a bad way! I'm obsessed with keeping her happy and safe. Don't call the police on me, okay? I'm not the jealous possessive type with her. If she had something she'd willingly leave me for, I would respect her decision and live the rest of my days in loneliness and utter despair and depression. I just really hope that day doesn't come anytime soon because that future does not sound ideal in the slightest bit. I know there will be the day where she will leave for college, and I am just praying that she takes me with her.

When I think about her leaving for college, I get scared. Sure, she's in highschool now but she's still a teenager. That's technically still considered a kid and kids do have imaginary friends. What if she thinks that when she reaches college she has to grow up? What if she wants to get rid of me because she doesn't want to be classified as a kid? What if she dumps me and I'm left alone for the rest of my life with no one else to see me and interact with me ever? She might say she needs to be mature and forget me, and she might have pressure from other people to forget me. That is, if they even know about me. I wish I could tell them that it's not like that, though. Celia didn't make me up in her head, I'm a real person, I was just born as an imaginary person. Can she forget me, even though I'll live in despair? I really flipping hope not.

I looked up at the stop sign, the street sign, the trees, everywhere. I needed to know where I was so that I could get home. If I kept getting lost in thought, I'd eventually get lost in this town and be forced to live with the wolves in the forest..for about 7 minutes and 37 seconds until they decide as a group to eat me. Nevertheless, that wouldn't happen because Celia would find me. I'd much rather be looking at Celia right now instead of all these buildings and streets. Did I mention how perfect and cute her hair is? It's really red and curly and bouncy and she looks so cute when she puts it in braids or up in a bun. She ends up looking like a little ballerina, even though she told me she hates dancing ballet. 

Oh my gosh, I sound so creepy right now. I hope Celia doesn't think I'm creepy. Crap, Jack. Stop thinking about Celia for just one second! Okay, not thinking about Celia. What should I think about? Cats. Cats are cool. They're little jerks who knock over your water. Celia always wanted a cat..NO! Stop! Okay, not cats. Think about..tables! Tables are nice and smooth and you can eat on them and have dinner parties with them. I remember the time I went with Celia and picked out a new drawing table with her. She's such an amazing artist that she needed a new table to draw on, her last one was pretty beat up. I remember looking around the store and suggesting a nice, sleek white table to her. She took my suggestion and ended up buying it, and it's still in her room to this day. I remember, to show that I helped her pick this out, I put a little cat sticker on the leg of the table that still stands to this day. Oh crap, I thought about her again! Also, how did the cat get back in the story?

Okay, one more time, try thinking about something that isn't Celia. Let's see, what to think about. What about..a man with a heavy, gray jacket on who is gesturing for me to come over to him. Nope, no chance of Celia coming in there. I'm just staring at a man with a small, dark beard, leaning up against the wall, and wanting me to come over to him. I didn't really know what to do. This could be one of those scary guys you see on the streets that act real nice to you, ask if they can come over, and then come to your house just to steal all your cereal. ...Yeah, I made up this story with Celia when I was younger. I was about to run away or stop, drop, and roll until something clicked in my mind. How was it possible for this man to wave me over to him?