⛈Imaginary Friends⛈
TRIGGER WARNING, I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH!
But before this starts I want to say that as a writer, I get really unmotivated all the time which is why I don't update as much so please BE ACTIVE as much as you can if you like/love this book!
~ Author J.J
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You were sitting on the grass, watching everyone crowd over you.
"Stay away from me!" you kicked back only to bump into more Freaks surrounding you and there was no escape.
Desiree kneeled before you just like in your nightmare, only this time, her hand reached towards your chest. Her whole hand disappeared inside you as if she were grabbing your heart.
You gasped at the cold icy feeling running down your spine and coursing
through your veins, making your back arch as your eyes glowed a bright white light.
And you were home.
The house you grew up in when your parents were still together. It looked the same as it did in the pictures on the scrapbook your mom made before they split so you'll have good memories of this place instead of the countless nights you were woken up by them arguing.
The aura was detached from you and you didn't feel like you belonged. You were dressed like a doll with a bunch of strange people just a minute ago, for crying out loud!
It didn't look like a normal day, either. The place was extremely sad. You could feel it in your bones as you stood by the staircase. It sure was nostalgic being back here, but it just didn't feel right.
You went to the coffee table where a calendar was, resting on the glass.
1997
AUGUST
26
What? How could this be? How the hell did you get here, this was before you were even born!
"Hello," a small voice greeted behind you. You gyrated around only to see a small child standing before you with a smile on his face.
"H-Hi, um," you kneeled in front of of him, "are you lost?"
He shook his head,
"No, I live here." he frowned. He reached for your hair, grabbing on to a strand, "But I know who you are." he smiled, showing off his missing lower tooth.
You stood up, shaking your head. Someone must've left their child on the street, causing him to wander off. That was the only logical explanation. But you should know by now that logic is not on your vocabulary anymore.
"What's your name?" you asked him.
"Johnny," he answered proudly, "Johnny Ha,"
That's when you felt your world crumble. Your throat constricted, making it hard to swallow and digest his words. This boy had to be at least six years old. He wouldn't be able to make this stuff up, right?
"Well, Johnny," you cleared your throat with the biggest smile you could force, "where is your mom? Did she leave you?"
Johnny frowned,
"I live here,"
You laughed nervously,
"Hahaha, no, you don't. I live here and I think that you should probably go find your parents before—"
"Johnny, where are you?" you looked up at the staircase where your mother walked down with a huge baby bump.
She was young now. Her hair wasn't frizzy and short, it was smooth and long. She certainly didn't have the Botox and she wore some pajamas instead of her pencil skirts and heels.
"Mom," you called, walking up to her. Instead of walking to you, she walked through you.
It was as if you were transparent and invisible to her. You turned around and saw her walk up to Johnny and sigh,
"Your dad wants to take you to the Carnival this Saturday. Want to go?" she asked him.
How could Johnny see you, but she couldn't?
"Mom?"
No response.
"Yay! I want to go, I want to go!" Johnny cheered, jumping up and down.
"Okay, well, go upstairs and clean your room before he gets back from work. Don't forget to stay away from the nursery."
"Sister!" Johnny clapped, staring at her mother's stomach in awe.
Your moms eyes creased and she smiled, but you couldn't miss the gulp she made before nodding. Almost as if she forced her expression.
"Yes, your sister. Now go on," she scurried him off and he raced back upstairs, completely ignoring you.
Mother walked to the kitchen, cradling the child in her arms. You followed right behind, trying to get a glimpse of her stomach once more. Once she took a seat, you peeked over her shoulder.
Indeed, it was you.
You could feel it. It made sense to you that it was August 1997—two months before your birth—and that she would be pregnant with you at the time. She sat down on the chair carefully.
"Mom!" you stood beside the table, right in front of her. She had to have been avoiding you, but instead of looking at you, she started to rub her belly gently.
"I need to be strong," she began softly, "I need to tell him that this was a mistake. Our marriage, our so-called love, my child." she looked down, "My child,"
That child had to be you, right?
"I regret ever falling for that man. That mad, mad man who only cares about himself and his job. But I can't leave him. Not once I have you."
She was talking to you, her baby.
Who the hell is Johnny?
You raced out of that kitchen, confused as hell. It wasn't even confusion anymore, you were frustrated. Frustrated that you didn't know why the hell you were here, frustrated that your own mother couldn't see you, frustrated that you couldn't find answers.
"Johnny!" you called, jogging up the stairs. You ran down the hall and to every room until your found the last one.
You turned the knob and walked inside only to see Johnny on the floor, holding his knees to his chest in the corner of the room.
"Johnny, what's wrong?"
His eyes were all over the place, not seeming to focus on one thing. You shook his arm, calling his name until you screamed it. When he looked at you, it was like he was paused and he only stared at you.
"I want to show you something," he swallowed. It was as if he forgot the crisis he went through seconds ago. He stood up, grabbed your hand which surprised you, of course.
"Johnny, are you... related to me?" you asked as he dragged you down the hall.
The boy stopped in his tracks and turned to you,
"You're my sister," he said innocently.
"Your sister?" you eyebrows caved in, "Johnny, I have never had a brother."
"That's because I'm supposed to be in Heaven."
With eyes big as saucers, you gulped nervously with your hands at your sides into fists. This little kid—whom you just met today—is supposedly your brother who is dead?
"Johnny, I need you to tell me why I'm here. I'm lost here and I need to find my way. Can you help me?"
He smiled a toothy grin and nodded sympathetically. Taking your hand again, you started to feel that pull towards him. You wanted to believe him, but you also wanted answers and you knew he wouldn't be able to give them to you. He is just a child.
"Dad is supposed to be here in a couple of hours from work. But... I don't think I can stay with you for long." he said stopped at the stairs.
"What, why not?"
He looked up at you and sighed. His face was no longer bright and happy, but instead dull.
"Because... Dad doesn't love me," he admitted.
"He's your—our Dad. Of course he loves you." then a sudden pang of realization spread across you. "Johnny, what happened to you?"
He wiped his tears with his sleeves and shook his head, deciding not to answer. You licked your dry lips. So far, all you know is that Johnny is supposedly your little brother, he is dead, and you have no idea if it's true or if you're having some sort of twisted nightmare.
You prefer the latter.
Maybe he was a figment of your sick and twisted imagination, but how? You've never had dreams this bad since you were young. You were quite a curious little girl and always managed to get yourselves into situations that made you sleepless at night like secretly watching a horror film while your parents slept.
This here had no reason to it, and you had to admit now that it wasn't a dream. Those people—if you could even call them that—put you here and now you had to find a way to escape.
"I can't explain it to you," he said, "All I know is that he never wanted me to be born. I heard him talking to someone on the phone about it yesterday, but I was supposed to be sleeping. He said I'm not his." he dropped his head in shame. After a second of silence, he looked up at you, "What would he mean by that?"
By far, the hardest question. This man didn't seem like your father. The father who always hugged and kissed your cheek after a day of work. The man who drove you to your soccer games and brought you ice cream every time your team lost.
Why wouldn't he love Johnny? If Johnny even is his son. Children don't usually have the capacity to make stuff like this up. So who really is Johnny?
"I... don't know. Maybe he was just drunk or something bad happened to him to say those bad things. I'm sure he loves you, Johnny."
Johnny smiled a toothy grin,
"Okay, let's go!" he suddenly grabbed your hand. It wasn't warm, but you sure did feel something familiar about it. Like finding a doll you lost before. Like a doll that was taken away.
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—"Still no word?" asked Bom.
—"No, I don't think we'll ever find her." Hyuna sighed, shutting off her laptop.
—"C'mon, don't you believe in miracles?"
—"I believe in the truth. (Y/N) went missing—what—three weeks ago?"
—"Four,"
—"It's over, Bom. We don't know what else to do. Look at my dad, he's been drinking more and he barely comes home. Everything's so off, I don't know why she's so important now."
—"I'm gonna give you, like, a minute to think about that sentence."
—"Ugh, you know what I mean. They have never once showed interest in her before. She was better off as a stranger."
—"Maybe so," Bom paused, "But family is family. You of all people should know that."
—"Maybe so,"
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Literally, what the fuck...