• Imagination, it is part of many children’s lives, 65 percent of children will say they have an invisible playmate. Their imaginary friend could stay around for several months or years. Their companion may even follow them to school. The only time this is dangerous is if their buddy starts to tell the child to do things that would put the child at risk of hurting themselves.

When I was four going on five, I started school in the city but moved to a small town when I was five. I was allowed to walk to school by myself, the invisible dog would follow me to school and walk with me home. He was my companion for the longest time.

When I was eight, we moved to a building that was across from the school I attended. It was great, I would be able to go to the playground when the school was closed and play there. 

There was this boy that was always at the school around the same time that I would go to the playground. He was a bit older than me, but it did not matter, I had someone that wanted to hang around me. My mom would ask me if I had fun playing outside. I would sometimes say, “yes, there was a boy there, and he played with me.” My mother would leave it at that. Usually, I would just go to my room and play with my toys or back outside to play with the neighbourhood kids.

When I was nine, my mother moved into my grandpa’s sister’s house. The house was small, but it had a large backyard. I would spend most of my time playing in the trees, riding my bike, you know, just being a kid. I was not sure how the boy found my new address, but I was glad to have someone to play with. 

I was not fond of being inside the house, I was always afraid of going in. Whenever I looked at the floor, there was this dark hole, black things used to come out of the tunnel into the house. To top it off, frequently sitting on my mother’s couch was an older lady. She never said or did anything to me, she would just look at me with a stare that made me feel like I was always in trouble. I did not say anything to my mom since I thought she was able to see the lady. I figured it was one of my mom’s friends that did not like me.

Sleeping in my room was very difficult, my mother would turn off the light and shut the door. I hated it! I remember I would ask my sister R to ask mom if we could have the door open because I was scared. My mother would storm into the bedroom and tell me to stop acting like a baby and go to sleep.

At night time if I had to go to the washroom, I would crawl over to the side that was closest to the door, jump out of bed and run to the washroom. When I would return to bed, I would see this black thing under my bed. It would be grinning at me; it was not a smile to say ‘Eh nice to meet you’ no, it was an evil grin meant to torment me. I remember telling my mom that something under my bed was trying to grab my leg and trip me. That did not help my situation at all. She told me that I needed to stop scaring my sister R and grow up.

One day my mom was packing boxes, she gave me the best news ever, we were moving. The next day we went to see the house we were moving into. The house was in the making, pretty much finished, but it was safe enough for us to walk inside. I loved it, my sister R and I would have the second biggest room while my brother J would have the smallest. My mom and soon to be baby would have the master bedroom. This house was a lot bigger than the other one, and the best part, it had a backyard.

  • At this point in my life, I could not hear what the dead had to say, but I was starting to see them.

What made this area the best was there were children for myself and siblings to play with. The dark things were gone, and the old lady that snarled at me was not around. Everything was great.

Until one day, I told a friend about the boy from the school that I used to play with. I knew by the time I was ten, what was physical and not. And now I was able to hear them as well.

I told my friend S that the boy I used to play with went to the same church as her. He would sit behind her and play with her hair. Her mom would always put her hair up in a ponytail and braid it. He would hit it so that it would swing back and forth. 

S had asked me, “what is his name?” 

I said, “Jason, He is about ten years old, brown hair, blue eyes. He is wearing a dark suit with a blue tie.”

S then asked me if he was around her rate now. Which I responded to yes!

I had definitely freaked her out. See, I thought that it was normal to see things. No one had ever questioned me, nor had I really spoke of anything but dead animals. In my little young mind, the two just seemed to be normal.

S told me there was a boy in her church who did play with her hair, his name was Jason. The only thing that I got wrong was his again. He died when he was nine. He was riding his bike on the docks, his pant leg got caught on the chain, and he fell into the water. His brothers and friends were not able to help him. This had happened the year I moved to the small town when I was five.

A couple of weeks had passed, and S refused to walk home with me. I did not think much about it until one day, I was walking home alone, and a couple of older boys, in high school, rode their bikes by me. They yelled at me and told me there is no way I could have seen their brother because he was dead. I had made the whole story up!

I had been embarrassed! I did not mean to upset anyone, I was just telling a story about what I had seen. On top of that, it was not too long ago that my mother had told me to grow up and stop with the foolish games, aka seeing things that are not there. 

Was I really seeing things? Maybe I am wrong? Perhaps I do need to grow up and stop with these games!

  • I did an automatic shut down!

1 Comment

Leave a Reply