The Story About How My Imaginary Friend Died

Chapter Twenty-Eight - His Visit

I sighed when the doorbell rang. It made me feel uneasy, but I had no real reason to.

When I opened the door, it took some time to put a name to the face.

On the doorstep stood a guy my age with black hair and--

Tim stood on my doorstep.

I frowned.

Maybe I shouldn't've opened the door.

I really wished mom was home. She'd chase the awkward conversations away.

In a rather unmoral way, but the job would get done.

"Er, hi," he said.

I nodded in his direction and said, "Hi."

"Can I... come in?" Tim asked after a long pause.

I cursed inwardly, but I had no reason not to, and my mind did not work fast enough that I could cook up some lie.

Frankly, Tim's question was not really a question either as he looked down at the ground, giving me the guilty feels.

"Sure," I said, forcing a smile.

He walked inside my house, taking in the surroundings.

A yawning Toyota walked into the room, approaching Tim, who crouched down to the dog's level and said hi, only to get rejected when the dog found out he did not have any food on him.

As long as Tim had been occupied by the dog, the awkward had been put on hold, but now that there was no dog to take up his time, there was no sound. Only thing left in the room an expectation. Unsaid words, but I had no way of deciphering the words that would make up a conversation.

So I just stared at the ground, focusing on the fringes at the end of a carpet while trying to come up with something to say.

When I had examined every single one of the fringes that belonged to the carpet, I moved my gaze over to the windows and curtains, which from where I stood were located at the perfect spot to not give anyone a cold shoulder, but at the same time made me avoid eye contact with them.

Sunlight shone through the window, illuminating it and making it obvious that we had not done our cleaning duties.

The room wasn't filled with a lot of stuff, and I eventually ran out of stuff to look at.

For a moment, I panicked before I found way to my words.

"Um... where is Katja?"

Tim stared out the window absent to our small conversation that was not really the reason he was here.

But it was however, the reason Katja was not here, so in a way, I guessed I weren't just making random conversation.

"She thought we should give you some space," he said. I wasn't really sure how to respond to that, so I stayed silent.

"But I did not agree, because I argue we have to find out what is going on with you."

I was dumbstruck, but Tim did not seem to expect an answer.

"Something has happened, and I have no clue to what it can be, but there is one thing I know, and that is that this should be the kind of thing a friend is able to fix.

My gaze snapped up to him. He already knew that something was up.

"... I just have a lot on my mind, that's all," I said lamely, but I did look into his eyes, but looking back, I do not think it helped.