Imaginary (boyxboy) -Complete-

Imaginary (boyxboy)

----

This is a work in progress, so please take the time to vote and tell me what you think about it; I would really appreciate it. (:

I will also mention that these are my stories and my characters, and I own full rights to them.

---

Prologue
    Admitting that I was a loner would have been the understatement of the year. In all honesty, I despised people; they scared the living hell out of me. This fact was true even when I was a child. When all the other kids were playing red rover or hide-and-go-seek, I spent my afternoons alone on the playground swinging on an old swing set, feeling the rush of the wind tug at my hair and grab hold of the edges of my clothes.
    You may want to pity the poor kid who had no friends, but save that emotion for someone who really deserves it, like a starving kid in Africa or something. I was perfectly content alone.
    Alone.
    That word still rings loudly in my ears because while everyone else saw a lonely child, I was never truly alone. I had a single friend who stuck with me wherever I went. To this day, I still have no clue where Jerry came from.
    My earliest memory of Jerry started on the same playground where I spent so much time alone. One day, a boy the same age as me walked up and sat in the swing beside me. Without hesitation, he began to talk to me even when I didn’t talk back.
    From that day on, Jerry and I were inseparable. He was my polar opposite. Where I had dark hair and brown eyes, Jerry had blonde hair and blue eyes. He wasn’t afraid of anything, while I couldn’t even sleep without a nightlight on. In a sense, Jerry completed me, even back in the playground days.
    This story wouldn’t have much point if everything worked out, right? Part of me wished I could tell you that Jerry and I grew up, went to the same high school, and fell madly in love. I would love to tell you that we lived happily every after.
    However, if I did that, I would be telling you a bold-faced lie, and I’ve never been fond of lying.
    As a child, I always knew that my parents found me odd. They always asked me if I made any new friends and were constantly calling my teacher for her personal opinion on my development. I suspect even then, my parents had the idea lingering in their brains that their child was different.
    Naturally, when Jerry and I became good friends, I was ecstatic to fill in my parents. I just knew they would be so happy that I finally made a friend; I just wanted to make the Greer family pleased.
    This is where my problems started.
    I decided one day that Jerry should ride the bus home with me. Back in the early 90’s, you didn’t have to have a note to ride a bus. When students got on the bus, the bus driver made sure to get you home, and going home with a friend was never an issue; The school never made a big deal out of riding home with friends.
    Jerry and I sat alone on the back of the bus and talked. Well, Jerry talked while I listened and occasionally shook my head in silent agreement or disagreement and maybe mumbling a ‘mhmm.’
    Once home, I burst through the front door with so much excitement that I startled my mother, who stayed at home while my father worked in his law firm. She was simply not used to seeing me behave in an excited manor. Usually, I came home and went straight upstairs to my room to draw.
    Naturally assuming that something was wrong, she rushed to meet me. I waited as patiently as a seven-year-old could for my mother to say something about the boy who stood right next to me, flashing his bright smile.
    Putting a hand on her hip she asked me what was wrong.
    “Nothing is wrong, Mom,” I said in disappointment. “I just wanted you to meet my best friend, Jerry.” I said his name with pride and smiled almost as bright as Jerry’s smile.
    Instantly, the worry evaporated from my mother’s cheeks while surprise and a genuine danced on her face. “Well, where is he?” She asked looking around. “You didn’t make him wait outside, did you?” My mother walked passed me and peered out the open door and looking around.
    After a moment, she turned and looked down on me. “Well?” There was a hint of disappointment lingering in her voice, but nothing in her voice could match the look that had to be painted all over my face.
    I never thought my mother to be blind or crazy, but how could she miss a blonde-haired boy standing right next to me?
    “He’s right here,” I said as I stomped my little feet while gesturing to my right.
    The look that grew on my mother’s face still lingers in my memory. It was as if she had looked at someone who had lost his mind, someone who belonged in an insane asylum.
 Long story short, my mother was very worried, and after a very heated discussion with my father, which I overheard through their closed bedroom door, it was determined that I needed an appointment with a psychologist. A round man with white hair and glasses far too small for his face determined that it was perfectly normal for a boy of my circumstances to have an imaginary friend.
    It was perfectly healthy.
    My parents dropped everything that had to do with Jerry while continuing to push me toward making real friends.
    They never understood how real he was to me.
    All through my childhood and teenage years, Jerry was the only friend I ever had, and I loved him truly, deeply. The fact that I was the only one who could see him, feel him changed nothing, and I knew that Jerry felt the exact same toward me.

---

What do you think of the prologue? Are you all in the mood for a twisted romance story? I know I sure am. Please take the time to vote and fan me (: