Untitled; Part One

Keira

When I was 3, he came into existence. He was there for me when I was lonely and sad. He’d wrap me in his powerful arms and stroke my hair until I couldn’t shed anymore tears. He kept me company when my mom left me in the day care so that she could go to work. Even when all the other kids told me I was a loser, he didn’t think so. He’d tell me to go finger paint and tell him stories. When asked by the teachers who I was talking to, I’d say it was him, my angel. They’d brush it off and say I was cute. They’d try to get me to play with the other kids who accepted me as long as the teachers were looking. Then, when they had their backs turned, the kids would steal my cookies at snack time. My angel would make mean faces at the kids and that always made me laugh. That was another wonderful thing about him. He could always make me laugh. It wasn’t a hard task to begin with; I was always willing to giggle. It just took a funny face or a silly word to tickle me. He was my best friend.

When he first appeared to me, I don’t really remember. It was a long time ago when I was little and probably couldn’t even talk. Later, though, after I started saying “mama”, I started calling him “Fluffy.” I’m not even sure why, but it seemed to fit. I liked the way it sounded coming out of my lips. I especially liked the way my name sounded coming from his.

He held my hand when I was scared, he wiped my tears away, he stayed by my side when it was dark and I was supposed to go to sleep.

My imagination was always an active one and that was probably why everyone thought Fluffy didn’t exist. But I knew. He was real. They just couldn’t see him because they didn’t believe he was there.

He told me he would leave me one day. I cried a long time after that. I didn’t ever want to see him go. But time passed.

I got older.

Everyone does. Age is insignificant. Even if you tell it to stop, it never listens. You grow up. Everyone does eventually. I dreaded growing up at first because it meant losing the boy I loved.

But then, I started middle school and I didn’t seem as much as a freak anymore. No one called me a loser. Here, maybe I was actually considered cool. When I was 13, I got to be on the cheerleading squad. I got invited to more and more parties. I’d still come right home and tell my Fluffy everything about them. I’d still listen to his advice about boys and alcohol. I hadn’t really been to a party that extreme, though. They just served soda…so far. And no boy had asked me out. Not yet. Fluffy said they were just shy and I had to give them time to grow up. But he always looked sad when he talked to me about that kind of stuff.

One day, when I was fourteen, I skipped home and up the stairs where I collapsed onto the bed beside Fluffy with a huge grin on my face.

“What happened today?” he asked, leaning against my bed frame.

I rolled over onto my elbow to face him, still wearing that goofy smile. “Oh, Sean Peterson asked me out!”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled a little. “Is that all?”

I sat up and whipped a pillow at him.

“Hey, no pillow fights now, Keira.”

“Why not? I’m just feeling all happy and funny and silly. I just need to attack someone! And you happened to be sitting right here.”

“I’d better move then,” he said and stood up. He walked to the window and looked out.

I sat on the edge of the bed and pushed my hair out of my eyes. “What’s wrong?” I could tell something was up with him. He wasn’t acting like himself.

He turned toward me and started to say something, but stopped.

“What is it?” I asked again. I patted the empty space next to me and he came over to sit beside me again. “What is it, kitty?”

He gave me a look. “I thought we were past all that ‘cat’ stuff.”

I giggled. “Hey, you’re ‘Fluffy.’ It just works. So, tell me. What’s wrong?”

He sighed and looked away from me again. “How do you even know something’s the matter?”

“A girl can sense these things.”

He snorted. “Like I believe that.” He turned on the bed so that he was facing me. “Keira,” he started. I looked at him expectantly, waiting. “You remember that one day when I told you I’d have to leave you someday?”

I could feel a lump in my throat growing. “Yeah,” I said, quieter than I’d meant to. He’d gotten quieter, too.

“It’s today, Keira.”

“When?” I could barely hear myself now.

“In a few minutes.”

My tears sprang out unexpectedly and I furiously wiped them away. I wasn’t quick enough, though. Whenever I’d wipe one away, another one would take its place. “Why, though? Why do you have to leave me?”

“Keira,” he whispered, taking me in his arms. “You don’t need me anymore. I have to go. There’s no choice. I’ve put it off as long as I could.”

I looked up at him, but all I could see was someone blurry and out of focus. I leaned into his chest. “But I do need you. I’ve needed you since forever. And you know that!”

“Maybe you’re right. But at a certain age… Keira, it just doesn’t matter. I have to go. You or I can’t do anything to change that.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered into my hair. “I’d do anything to be with you. Maybe… Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

I looked up into his eyes, hopeful. “You really think so?”

He smiled that playful smile I knew and loved so much. “I know so.”

That’s when my angel took flight and left me.





Ryan

The day I left her was incredibly hard for me. It was hurting her to hear me say goodbye. It was hurting me when I saw how much it was hurting her. And I was the one hurting her. I comforted her all that I could right up until the last minute before I vanished onto my next assignment.

My name is Ryan. I am as kids call it, yes, an imaginary friend. It’s a being that helps little kids cope with life. I’m in their lives to be their friend when no one at school likes them or wants them. I’m there just in case their parents aren’t. I’m there in case their parents lay a violent hand on them at any time. I’m there for someone to grab onto in a bad situation. I’m there just so the kids know someone actually does love them.

To tell you the truth, I really don’t know how I got the nickname “Fluffy.” I got assigned to this blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl who loved to talk, loved to laugh, and loved to sing…loudly. She could be a little brat at times, but I wouldn’t trade her for anybody in the world. I loved her in the very beginning.

She came from a good family minus her missing father. He left her soon after she was born, leaving her mother all alone with this newborn child. But Keira was mostly an easy kid. I like to think it was at least partly me who made her that way. I had told her to stop those wild tantrums and listen to her mom. She would. I’d tell her to eat her vegetables and then I’d tell her a bedtime story later if she was scared.

For me, the worst time in every assignment was the end. I hated the part of telling the kid that I had to leave. Sometimes, it would be a little simpler. The kid might grow up more quickly and not really care or even notice when I left.

But there were kids like Keira who were heartbroken over the thought of my absence. I never really remembered it being as hard as it was with Keira. I’d held her in my arms that very last time, trying to memorize what she felt like so that I’d remember the feeling when she no longer belonged in my arms. When she wasn’t there anymore. When I wasn’t there anymore.

So, that day, right before I left, I told her something. I wanted to give her one more piece of hope to carry with her for the rest of her life. She needed it. I told her that we’d see each other again. It was the only lie I’d ever told.