The Story About How My Imaginary Friend Died

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Celebration

After work that day, I walked towards the cabin with a new, certain determination that I did not know still existed. I was going to film, and Tim had told me we only had one scene left, which, since I'd been working very hard, was exciting enough for me.

"Hello?" I said, only I didn't scream as I usually did.

Katja opened the door and stepped into the room, her face standing out between all the robes.

"Emma," she said, eyes turned downwards.

I smiled a weak smile.

"Are you okay?" Katja asked. I nodded, not sure about how much Tim had told her. Preferably all of it, all though I suspected Katja had a few questions of her own.

I was not wrong.

"Yeah, I am fine," I said.

"Is this... I mean, I am sorry, I do not want to sound too straight forward..."

I chuckled, despite myself. "When did you start to worry about that?"

She snickered and ran a hand through her hair. "I guess you're right... I was just... I mean, it's hard to understand, er, tim told me... everything? Or... I don't know if there's more? But just... This seems to be a big deal to you, and I guess I was wondering... how can one get so attached to one's own imagination?"

It was sincere curiosity, and I wasn't bothered by it, however, her words brought up memories. Memories that stabbed me in the chest.

I must have zoned out, because after a while, I could see Katja's hand, nails painted black, waving in front of my face.

I startled. "I am sorry, just... memories."

She tilted her head and looked really sad. "I am so sorry, Emma, I really am..."

"No, it's fine," I told her, but I didn't bother to try and smile at her, since sh'd only brush it off as a weak attempt to be nice. "It is... very hard to explain, and I don't really think I know this myself, but... I am gonna say that I think it is because she always was..." I swallowed. Katja didn't say anything, which I was thankful for. If she tried to finish my sentence for her, it'd most likely not really be the right words. "...She was always there for me," I managed to say.

Katja nodded slowly. "And, nobody ever knew?"

I shook my head. "No, I mean... I didn't exactly have any close friends, and mom... well, you could see how she'd get really worried about me, and well... I didn't tell you because it's not like you can strike up a conversation randomly, saying; 'Hey, I have an imaginary friend, I am quite crazy, and it's time for you to run off screaming now.'"

Katja opened her mouth as to say something, but she didn't until we'd stood there for a long, uncomfortable while.

"If people would have done that... I would have punched them... Hard. In the face. Calling them names that I'd invented at the spot. Then I'd freak them out and babble about murder, except, of course, I'd never actually kill them, just frighten them and make them believe I would."

I shook my head.

"Also, I don't want you to think that we blame you for not telling us, Emma, I can see how you'd not want to tell anyone, because well..." I could see the door open behind Katja, and Tim sticking a head through, but Katja didn't notice and Tim didn't make any effort to announce he was there, so I ignored him as Katja kept talking. "I won't say that I didn't think Tim was pranking me when he told me why you didn't want to talk to us, and I totally get why, but still... we wouldn't leave, you know." She said it while looking at the floor, as I didn't think Katja to be the type who'd pour sappy words out like that, and I could almost sense that what Tim was preparing himself to say would be mocking his sister in some way.