Imaginary Friend?

I looked around the hospital ward, smiling weakly at my stupidity. 10 years, we were together for 10 years and she did this to me. She did this to herself. Was I truly not enough? She betrayed me. She killed herself for mere lust and took me along...

I'm dying, huh?  My eyes grow heavier and heavier... I wonder, will I end up in hell or paradise?

The darkness consumed me slowly. I watched the fading world as the last breath left my burning lungs.

...

Blinking in confusion I look around the pink room. I'm sitting here, in front of a six-year-old drinking imaginary tea as she talks about her dreams excitedly.

Looking down at my now just as a 6-year-old body that keeps flicking I desperately try to figure out what's going on.

3 days later I come to a conclusion... I am her imaginary friend. Not a ghost, nor an angel but an imaginary friend.

I sigh as I watch her doing her homework while humming a cheerful melody. This girl is wrong. This house is wrong. This family is just wrong.

During those 3 days, I have not seen an adult once. And she has not eaten anything. It is wrong. So I decide to talk.

"Hey," the girl looks startled as she turns her gaze onto me. Her eyes sparkling.

"Are you finally going to talk to me?" She asks hopefully and I feel the pang of guilt in my heart.

I nod as I ask, "aren't you hungry?"

She looks at me weirdly then shakes her head. "I'm barely ever hungry. Are you?"

I smile at her, "I'm but an imaginary friend how can I be hungry?"

"What's your name?" she asks startling me out of my thoughts. "Val," is all I say.

"Christopher," she says, "but call me Chris or others will be angry. No one is supposed to know I'm a boy or they will be punished." She, no he tells me with a whisper.

"But why?" I ask in bewilderment with a tinge of unease.

"Because the girl is to be sacrificed and they love my sister too much to give her up to gods. So she is Christopher now and I'm Christina. Moreover, I'm marked. The marked ones are supposed to be killed the second they are born anyways. "

I look at him with incredulity. He talks about this hazardous scheme so simply, as if it was normal.

Sacrificed to gods? What for? Killed? He is but a child but his fate is already sealed. Ridiculous. 

"Don't you want to escape? Reveal the truth?" I ask forgetting that in front of me stood but a mere child.

"Escape? Reveal the truth?" Chris asks with a tilted head. "They will never let me. They made sure that I can't talk." He continues as he pulls the pink sweater down from his neck, revealing the nauseating scar. I feel a chill seep into my soul at the thought that his own family did this to him. Cruel, how very... cruel.

"But how can I hear you?"

"You are my familiar, you are supposed to hear my thoughts," Chris says smilingly.

"You don't talk like a six-year-old," I say thoughtlessly, but it is truly weird. Chris doesn't seem to behave like a six-year-old.

"Didn't I say I'm marked?"

I look at him puzzled. 

"Death is unable to make me forget." His lips curve into a smile, his eyes changing their hue to abysmal darkness. Bone-chilling darkness. Shaking my head to get rid of the ridiculous assumption I steer my mind back to his words.