My Imaginary Friend isn't My Friend
I stumbled my way to the park bench and sat hard on the metal seat, my ears ringing with the sound of a train whistle as twilight gave way to night. My vision blurred in and out as I looked down at the now empty pill bottle still clutched in my hand. Loosening my grip, letting the bottle fall to the ground with a soft clatter of plastic against stone, I tried to steady the tremble in my hands as my vision continued to swim. The anxious excitement still pulsing in my stomach as my heart continued to race in my chest.
A piercing flash of regret panged through my mind at my impulsive decision. My reaction to the mounting stress and argument I had just had with my fiance slowly dawned at the flaws of permanence I had just taken.
My body felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds as I unsuccessfully tried to stand up from the bench to seek help. Unable to decipher any additional sounds above the increasingly loud ringing, I did not notice as the man approached me. The last thing I saw as my eyes became unable to register anything, was someone who I had not seen in a long time.
Mark.
I was the oldest of three children. My siblings only being a couple years apart had allowed for their sibling friendship to prevail. My seven year age gap from my younger brother, and nine from my younger sister, had unknowingly created a rift that had only become more and more apparent as we grew older. Our parents had turned much of their focus to my siblings believing that I was fine on my own.
The loneliness I had felt was one that I never felt able to bring up to my parents. In my mind I was alone and apart from the rest of my family, unable to connect with them and then with others in school. My only friend was Mark, an imaginary friend who was always there for me.
Mark was a shadowy figure with friendly eyes and a soothing voice. He was always by my side to offer advice, ease my troubles, and dissuade the thoughts of self-defeat when I was mocked and made fun of by the other kids. As my isolation grew from others, Mark was always there to lift me up and face the next day. It was quickly known by my peers that I was the weird kid on his own that talked to himself. Despite this, I did not desire the company of others as I had the only friend I needed, My Best-Friend Mark.
There was every possibility that this would have continued on for the entirety of my life, but shortly after I finished 6th Grade my parents told my siblings and I that we were moving to a new city. The promotion my father had received swept us away to a new place. The words my father said as we drove into this new city stuck with me to this very day.
“I know things have been difficult for you, but it doesn’t mean it will last forever.”
Despite my feelings that my father never realized just how rough things had been for me, things did seem to get less difficult.
That first day in a new city had proven to be one of the best days of my life. As I exited the backseat of the van with Mark chatting away about how no matter how much of a loser the kids at this new school thought I was, he would still be my only friend. I had remained quiet to Mark the entire drive, much to his vocal annoyance. My parents had begun to worry about my apparent solitary conversations, I had quickly decided that silence would prevent any prying into who Mark was. The rest of my family had busily rushed inside of the house to begin the process of unpacking while I lagged behind as usual.
A reflection from the sun momentarily blinded me, and I tripped over the raised step of the sidewalk. My arms flailing, I fell towards the hard concrete bracing myself for the impact. With a solid thud I slammed into the ground, scraping my hands and bumping my nose against the ground leaving an additional scrape across it as well.
“Oh MY God, I am SOOOO sorry…” A voice shouted as footsteps quickly closed in on me.
Pushing myself up from the ground, the apologetic voice was matched to a girl my age who was bent over to help me up.
“Look at that, the first time a girl has spoken more than three words to you and you’ve made a fool of yourself already,” Mark said in a sing-song voice as he danced around. “Lucky for you I don’t care how stupid you act.”
“Fuck off,” I breathed out to Mark as pain radiated from my hands and nose.
“I…I didn’t mean to…I was just trying to get your attention. There’s no need to be mean,” The girl said with watery eyes as her outstretched hands recoiled at my vicious words.
“No, not you. I was…talking to…uhhh…just talking to myself. I didn’t mean to say that.” I stammered out, not wanting to admit that I had been talking to an imaginary friend.
“Oh, okay. I am sorry though,” The girl said as Mark continued to laugh.
“Sorry for what? I was the one who wasn’t paying attention and tripped over my own feet.”
“Well, I might have caused that…” She said as her cheeks flushed before she continued immediately after she saw the confused look on my face. “I was using the metal of my compass to reflect the sun at you to get your attention. I didn’t think it would cause you to fall over.”
“Oh so she was the one who made you look foolish, see what I mean? Everyone is out to get you. It is why you can only rely on me,” Mark said, his soft voice rippled with fury as he leered at the girl standing before me.
“It’s okay, I just feel a bit foolish is all,” I said, wiping the dirt off of my hands, doing my best to ignore Mark’s hostility as he continued to berate the girl.
“My name is Samantha, but you can call me Sam,” Samantha said as she held out a hand to help me up.
“Christian,” I said, grabbing her hand as I pushed myself to my feet.
Mark’s voice was drowned out by the voices of my parents and siblings coming back out to see where I was at. The quick response of my sudden injury being due to my own clumsiness was greeted with a thankful look from Sam before introductions flew across as Sam’s parents came out to greet their new neighbors.
That day had been a major turning point for me as I had made my first real friend. Mark wasn’t amused by the antics of the neighbor-girl, and anytime I would attempt to bring up Sam were usually met with mockery or vile words. I found shortly after meeting Sam, that despite doubling the amount of friends I had, I couldn’t talk about either of them to the other person.
It was shortly before school started, as Sam and I were attempting to skip rocks across the pond behind our houses that she confronted me with what had become my newest fear.
“So who is it that you’re talking to when you are outside by yourself?” She said as her rock skipped across the water five times, to the booing and jeering of Mark as it sank beneath the surface of the water.
“Yeah who is it that you talk to? Your only other friend? Go on, tell her so she knows how much of a loser you are so we can go back to being the only friends that we need,” Mark said, his once friendly smile twisted into an evil grin.
After a minute of silence as I bit at my lip, I finally decided to be truthful with Sam. At least partly truthful with her.
“It’s an imaginary friend. My parents are always so busy with my siblings, I needed someone to talk to. I know I’m a little old for an imaginary friend but it has become kinda like a habit to talk to him when I am by myself,” I admitted, refusing to look at her as shame boiled my face red. Mark laughed after my confession was complete and the air fell wordless.
“I get it,” Sam said, she pulled her legs close to her body as she turned her own face downward.
“Like she would ever understand it. What does she know what it is like to be a stranger in their own home?” Mark raged as he stood over Sam, his arms branching into many long black tendrils ready to strike and slash.
“I’m an only child, my parents are so preoccupied with work that they never have time for me. Sometimes I feel like they forget they even have a daughter. It sucks feeling alone, so I get it. I had an imaginary friend once too, but she was really mean. When my parents found out about her they took me to a doctor. Now I take these pills and I don’t see her anymore.” Sam added, her face a bright red as she told me.
“Really? You always seem so happy, I never would have thought you felt the same way I do,” I blurted out before pressing my hand over my mouth at the vocalization of my thoughts.
“Well, since I met you, I have felt a lot less alone,” Sam said softly, her cheek so brightly flushed that they could have been mistaken for stop lights.
“I feel the same,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Mark’s screaming echoed out in my ears as Sam smiled at me before standing up abruptly, nearly knocking me over.
“Thank you, Christy,” Sam said, her face still flushed as I stood up.
“For what?” I said, my own face warm as it dawned on me that despite Mark’s yelling, I could not hear him.
Sam shook her head before replying with a smile, “It’s a secret.”
“Really, what is it?” I said, my face still red as her infectious smile was spreading to me.
“Nothing, just promise me one thing, Christy,”
“Sure, what is it?” I said as we slowly made our way back towards our houses.
“When we go to school no one else can call you, Christy. That’s my nickname for you.” She said, a strange thought entered my mind with the realization that what she had asked was not what she wanted to say.
“Of course, not even my parents call me that. It’s usually just Chris or Christian.” I said, glancing back towards the pond where a raging Mark was swiping his arms at the water to effect.
Sam gave me another smile before running off ahead. I slowly made my way back to my own house, thinking thoughts of fancy as I reached the back door. It was as I placed my hand on the door knob that I felt a pounding thud in my head. Recoiling from the pain, I looked around for the source of the blow. Standing over me, in a grotesque swirl of twisting branches, Mark breathed heavily as he glared down at me.
“Did you forget something Kkchr-iisssteee?!” Mark spat out in a hiss.
“W-what a-are y-you t-talking a-about?” I stuttered out.
“I am your best friend, your only friend, the only one who truly gets you. You think you can replace me?” Mark shouted out, his long talons reaching down and gripping my shirt.
“No, no, no, you’re just someone I made up. You Aren’t Real!” I shouted back.
“There is so much worse for you if I leave, I am your protector just as much as I am your friend. Without me there is much more that will leak out of that damaged mind of yours,” Mark screamed out in rage before lifting me up by my shirt, his other fists clenched in anger. A fist raised to strike me when he stopped and let go of my shirt as the back door flew open.
“Chris, what is going on? I heard shouting.” My mom said with a worried face as she looked at me standing outside, visibly shaking.
“Mom” I began, glancing over at Mark who made a throat-slitting gesture with a long knife-like finger. “I need to tell you something.”
That had been a turning point for me, after telling my parents about Mark, I began going to therapy and was put on medication. While Mark did not disappear fully, he did remain silent. I began to make more real friends and as I did, Mark began to grow fainter and fainter. The memory of Mark became that of a bad nightmare, half remembered, only to emerge again in momentary glimpses when my depression was at its worst.
As the years went by, Sam and I grew closer. She was the one who knew me best, and when I told her the full story of Mark and the isolation I had felt that brought him forth and kept him around had been the same day that we made love for the first time. It had become the latest in “Best Days Ever” that had coincided with the years I had known Sam. Unfortunately, the bliss of our relationship did not ward off the demons that lurked back in whatever place Mark had apparently sequestered them to. It had begun during a long car ride back from our parents when the creeping darkness had jumped from inside of me.
“If you want the promotion so bad then take it, don’t let me be the one that is ‘Holding You Back,’” I snarked as Sam’s voice dipped in her explanation of why it would be best for her to advance her career at work.
“What is with the attitude Christy? This is for us both, we are a team aren’t we?” Sam said, hurt and anger in her voice as she glanced over from the driver seat towards me.
“No, it’s great that your dreams are coming true. I’m thrilled,” I spat, the darkness filling me with venom as thoughts of my stagnant job and failure to write anything that was better than an amused comment.
“Christian…when was the last time you took your meds?” Sam asked sheepishly as her hands began to fidget with the steering wheel.
“You know I take them every morning,” I said scornfully, my eyes darting out the window catching a strange shadow smirking back at me from the trees.
“When we get home, I think you should call Dr. Willard and schedule an appointment.””
“Oh, because I have a bad day it is because I’m losing it, but when YOU have a bad day it is because you are feeling under the weather, or because you saw a sad video online, or because your hormones are going wild.”
“That isn’t fair to say…You know that…”
“Yeah, yeah I know, the baby.” I said in an almost snarl as I turned my body away from her. The dark creature rising inside of me was filling my veins with its venom and I just wanted to shut everything out.
We drove the rest of the way home in silence, the venomous thing inside groaned in anger that the conversation had not escalated any further. Sam, upset and angry at my outburst, had remained brief with me for the remainder of the day.
For the following months a flood of worries and thoughts began to claw their way to the surface. Each needed to be suppressed as best as I could but with the echoing thoughts of a voice long forgotten, doubts constantly resurfaced.
“No matter how hard you try…you will still be all alone. And this time…I will make sure I am never replaced again…” A sinister voice said in a smooth and raspy tone.
I looked around the bathroom but saw no sight of the source of the voice. Sam was fast asleep, not that the voice was anything like hers. After splashing my face with water I looked into the mirror and nearly jumped at the reflection that stared back towards me.
For the briefest of moments, a shadowy face with a snarled smile returned my gaze before being replaced with my own reflection in the blink of an eye.
Pushing the image from my mind, I returned to bed and stared up at the ceiling as I waited for slumber to take hold of me. A hand reached out and played softly on my chest as my mind replayed the words over and over in my mind. Dread sat like a pit in my stomach late into the night before exhaustion finally took hold.
Samantha had hoped that the birth of our daughter would calm my mind, or at the very least allow for an opportunity for a new distraction to occupy it. This had proven to create a new series of jagged teeth that gnawed on my mind at all hours of the day.
New worries and concerns kept me in a constant state of fear. The fear that I would pass my problems onto her. The fear that I was going to fail her just as my parents had failed me. The fear that I was too fucked up to be the father she needed.
The new medication did nothing to calm these fears. All they did was dull my emotions to everything around me. Something that had ended up leading to an impulsive decision on my part after what was in reality, nothing more than a concerned partner's worrying for someone they loved. Something that was so clear after it was already too late.
Life gets better, you have to be there to see it. A chilling thought to have as the shadows crept in around me…as Mark wrapped me in an embrace that was anything but loving.
A jolt of electricity spiked through my body as a vision of my surroundings blurred in and out of focus. The world spun as my body swam through air thick as mucus, moving towards a destination I did not know. Mark’s caterwauling in the deafening recesses of my ears comforted my slipping mind.
Anywhere that I went that angered Mark was clearly a place I wanted to be. Mark did not want me to be without him, and staying on that park bench to be swallowed by his ravenous form was all that he wanted.
☆
A crude star was carved into the yellowish tar-stained mirror. The memory of how I had entered the bathroom was long forgotten, if it had ever been there to begin with. I looked up into the mirror only to jolt with groggy awareness at the reflection that stared back at me.
My/Mark’s face stared back at me with rows of teeth stretching skin beyond the point of tearing. My/Mark’s head began to shake in protest at the sight as My/Mark’s hand clutched into a fist and began pounding against the mirror’s surface. Each thump of flesh against glass echoed in my ears as the pounding increased in intensity until Mark’s hand began to crack the mirror, sending webs of broken lines against the surface.
“No!” The Face in the mirror mimed as the cracks began to split and spread into webs of reflections.
“Yes!” Mark screeched in glee as the many fists pounding in each crack of the mirror grew in speed and intensity.
“I Won’t!” I shouted as my free hand gripped Mark’s many pounding fists and yanked it down to my side.
I forced my eyes shut and turned on my heels away from the broken mirror, screams of fury echoing off of the bathroom walls as Mark raged from behind the splintered prison of the mirror.
“You don’t have a choice anymore,” Mark whispered in my ear as he turned my body back towards his reflection. “You have already made your choice, and from now on I will be making all of the decisions. You get to be MY imaginary friend now.”
“Never!” I whispered as Mark’s hands wrapped around my head and began to shake his head back and forth. I clutched my eyes tighter together in protest and shook my head against Mark’s clawing fingers. WIth a burst of adrenaline I lunged backwards towards where I hoped was the bathroom door. My body thudded against the wall and tilted to the side, falling against the bathroom door and out of the bathroom.
With an explosion of light as my nose smacked against the concrete floor, I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled away from the screaming voice of Mark that began to grow fainter with every step away I took.
;
I was laying down in a very uncomfortable bed. Voices murmured around me but none of them made any sense. With the effort of forcing fly paper apart, I opened my eyes to the sight of a hospital room. Nurses talking with Sam as I tried to place together a timeline of events. Unable to do so, I turned my head towards the TV to see ‘The Wizard of Oz’ playing. I shifted in the bed as I tried to recollect why I was in a hospital bed.
With slow realization the events of my dance with death relayed to me over the following week. Tears and promises were made but the one thing that brought the fear of Mark to the forethought of my mind was the glimmer I saw reflect back towards me. As I looked into my daughter's tear filled eyes, I saw the reflection of Mark within the pools of blue that stared back at me.
My Imaginary Friend isn't my friend, and I can only he hope he stays far away from my daughter