Imagination's Saving Grace

Imaginary Friends

My name is Grace Rose. This is my story. First, I must mention, I am not sure how the Fog came to be. But I have heard rumors about how the Fog started a long time ago. Whispers from the shadows that it was created in a different world, a lifetime away. It was indestructible and it only came as it was needed. Each case was different, yet everything was the same. I must give it credit though; it was a sneaky beast. Between those calls from the shadows and my experiences, I have learned the Fog masked the world's pain, allowing those who saw sadness and truth a way to only see that of which they wished to see. It obscured the misfortunes of those who were struggling inside until they no longer experienced the emotional fight which once allowed them to understand how to overcome. It sought out souls that were on the brink of destruction and it saved them from themselves. It hid their pain and fogged their minds making them stronger. Or at least that is what they believed...that they were stronger. But it was too strong, too much for people to take and over time the destruction of such power started to show across our worlds. Or so the stories go. You see sometimes all that was left was too far gone to ever tell the story of how they lost a fight that was never fought.

Let us start from when I was younger, before the Fog I speak about became a substance that I clung to for dear life. Growing-up from infancy to your first few years in school, friendships seem easy to obtain, and just as easy to keep. All you have to do is walk up to someone and say "Hi, I'm Grace." and BAM you have a friend! I held on to friendships, with a few bumps in the road for years until my whole world was turned upside down and the truth about how much bigger it really, was outside of my little town, came to the forefront. The key for me, or the downfall, depends on which way you look at it, is knowing the Fog surrounds us throughout life. Yet most of the time it goes unnoticed until you desperately need its cover. Sometimes depending on your age, it comes in the form of an imaginary friend. Which I can attest I have had a few throughout the years. Some more friendly than others and some just dead scary. With every life altering moment or drastic decision I seemed to gain a new imaginary friend.

When I was younger, I lived in a neighborhood which had kids in almost every house on the block. There was never a shortage of children to play outdoors with, parents weren't hovering all the time, allowing our imaginations to be freed. I must say our imaginations were used constantly growing up, it was a must in order to have fun without electronics or the ability to stay indoors and watch TV. But with freedom rains-down those who seek to cause harm and when darkness fell it was a whole other level of imagination. See when the streetlights come on the children headed inside to the safety of the lights leaving the shadows to come out and play. You might ask, weren't they always there? To that I will say as the sun rises in the sky each day the shadows go back into hiding, watching us from the corners where the sun never dares to reach, just waiting for that sun to set once again so they may continue their games. I found from personal experience their favorite games started when a straggler is caught outside after dark, those shadows I speak of aren't all just shapeless blobs they are the scary story book characters which came to life and invaded our nightmares. How do they come to be you may ask? Well, with each nightmare we wake from comes a story book character in which escapes our imagination as we sleep, once we wake, they usually disappear. But for those few which manage to get away they end up in the shadows just waiting for night to fall once again. For some children, once those characters escaped your nightmares you became trapped in their world, without anyone knowing the truth behind how you disappeared. One of two of these imaginary friends found their way into my world.

Do you need proof? This memory, or story as those nonbelievers may call it, started before the streetlights came on and became louder the moment the clock struck eight. I was walking to my friend's house while the sun was high, way before the streetlights came to mind, as I always do. While I am walking, I hear the sound of jangling keys, now with my imagination it is easy to make me jump, but in the light of day the feeling of unease goes away pretty fast. I see the sound was nothing more than wind-chimes blowing in the wind on one of the porches on the block and from what I could see from my vantage point, that was really all there was. Nothing strange going on there, so I just kept walking as if I heard nothing. Of course, the non-threatening sound of wind-chimes leaves my mind completely once I get to my friends and we get lost in the land of make-believe and a side of her older brother. Nevertheless, once it was time to head home, which is usually around a half hour before the sun goes down. But this particular day I noticed the sun seemed to be going down faster than I thought it normally should have. I was only halfway home when the streetlights came on, this is strange on its own. The one rule when you are a child outdoors alone is BE INSIDE when the streetlights come on or you are in for it.