Why? Why did you have to be so reckless? Now you’re stuck here with a psycho! Are you kidding, Ally? This is your idea of a blind date? I am never doing this again. __ __ “I’ll make you a deal,” says the masked psychopath, rolling up his grey sleeves. How can I trust him? “Tell me why I should let you go.” His proposition catches me off guard; he must just want some entertainment. I shake my head.
“Now, now,” he says coolly. “You do want to live, right? Then convince me.”
I remain still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my submission. Now he is taken aback_._ He raises his eyebrow. He waits. I won't give in. After a while, he says, “Interesting. I’ll remember this, Willow. Next time. I’ll find you.”
He walks away, leaving me in silence. I should be relieved, thtabi just escaped death. But no. I feel terrified. _How did he know my name? _I realize, _I just did escape death. _
This stranger in the street was once my friend yesterday. A week ago, they were just an acquaintance. A year ago, I only knew their name. And now, they’re a stranger? Erased. Gone. All I know is that we were once friends, and that we were close. Nobody knew about my friend except for me. Nobody could see my friend. Sometimes I wonder if I would recognize them if I saw them in the street. But no, they’re not really there—just my imagination. I know they exist; I just have to find them. How do you find someone without a name?
Years later:
I have found them. I cannot tell anyone. Nobody can know. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them. I forgot all the memories because I thought they were imaginary. I found them, and now I know I will always need my imaginary friends—they are my only true friends.
