Short Story: Imaginary

The sound of beer bottles shattering upon impact with the floor was a sound I was very familiar with. It let me know that it was that time of day where I should pretend to be asleep. I didn’t take the risk of having the TV on at a low volume or listening to music through headphones. So, it was just myself and the dark, silent void I called my bedroom. Like most children however, I was afraid of the dark. Luckily, I knew I could always have my closet door cracked open ever so slightly.

He lived in the small sliver of light that escaped from the closet. We were able to have long conversations without me having to utter a single word out loud. I’d tell him about my day, confide secrets, admit regrets, and he’d do the same back to me. I almost couldn’t believe he had problems of his own, his life seemed so great. He was an adventurer. He explored the world and met amazing people. He seemed so strong, like nothing could stop him from doing what he wanted. He certainly wouldn’t be stopped by the confines of this house or the iron fist of my father.

At some point I’d fall asleep, probably while listening to his stories, and he’d be gone when I woke up. He would always be there, guiding me, cheering me up, or simply listening. Sometimes, though, he’d be gone for small periods of time. I remember I didn’t see him once for the entirety of my trip to DC. I would have loved to tell him about it, but I just had to catch him up the next time I saw him.

He was there the night I turned 18, the same night I left home. I saved up all the money I could and went to the airport, and that’s when he disappeared. I looked for him, but figured I should just choose a flight before they all fill up. I saw one that headed for Europe, and was so excited I almost asked for two seats.

After the long flight I expected to see him waiting for me at the terminal, but he was nowhere to be found. I set the slight worry I felt aside and went to pick up my luggage, along with someone I met on the plane. He was another lost vagabond so we thought it would be nice to stick together for a while.

A week passed, my new friend and I found another pair of weary travelers. They were formerly in the Israeli army and decided to backpack around Europe after their term ended. The four of us bussed around and saw the sights. I learned so much about all of them. In the back of my mind, though, I couldn’t stop worrying about where he went after I entered the airport.

It was months since I saw him last, the longest I’ve gone without hearing from him since we met. I tried everything I thought would work. I’d make sure there were pockets of light in our sleeping area. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. I was close to leaving my friends and heading back home, hoping to find him there. Though, I knew I needed to stay strong, and not hold myself back, just like he would.

Our group ended up renting an apartment after we landed jobs in London and got work permits. I went to a barbershop for the first time in months, and when I came out, I couldn’t help but notice my resemblance to a certain adventurer I used to know.

Hey there! I wrote this in the dining hall at Texas State while feeling like a total poser. Shame aside, this story has been a while in the making and I personally wrote it from from experience of having imaginary friends most of my life. This story is mainly about an appreciation for self growth. I do wish I could've made the transition of how the main character becomes his imaginary friend more apparent, but I think this was a pretty good attempt. Thanks for reading.