A New Friend

I remember sitting under the shade of an oak tree when I was younger. About 6 or 7 years of age. I had started school earlier that year and since then I hadn't made any friends what-so-ever. I felt alone. That day I started talking to a new friend. She was my imaginary friend. Her name was Mary. She had black hair that reminded me of a crows feather, and dark blue eyes that looked like the sea. She was pale but not too pale. Mary always wore a dress. A beautiful black dress would always be draped around her body, adorning her torso with a ribbon the same shade just below the chest and above the belly button. Mary's dress ended about mid-shin. Her feet wouldn't be shown, they were, gone. Mary's shins somewhat faded after the dress was not shown, her legs growing so clear that by the time her feet were addressed, they were transparent. I had learned to act normal to her weird legs as our friendship grew stronger.

One morning, I was sitting in my third grade classroom and Katy, a girl in my class whom was very obnoxious and rude, walked up to me and said, "How are you and your friends, Annabelle?" She smiled looking at her friends across the room. "Oh, wait, you don't have any..." She joined her group of friends as they started laughing. I watched them for while, still laughing, I looked back at my coloring page as tears started streaming down my face. I saw Mary rushing into the room. "Don't cry, Annabelle. She's not worth your tears." She smiled as she swiped away the tears from my rosy cheeks.

Later that day, it was time for lunch. As always, we assembled ourselves into our lines as the teacher stood in front of the doorway waiting to guide us down to the lunch room. When we were walking down the stairs I realized Katy's money fell and is no longer in her hand. "Katy." I whispered trying not to let the teacher notice. "What?" She turned around to look at me. "No talking, Ladies." Said Mrs. Firstin. "Yeah, Annabelle!" She shouted. I looked at Katy, speaking to the teacher with delight. All of a sudden, she started to fall. Flight after flight until she reached the basement. She was unconscious when we rushed to see if she was okay. I backed off towards the back of the line when I saw Mary waiting for me. "Mary? D-Did you just do that?" "Yes. She hurt you, so I hurt her." Around the words 'hurt her' there was a demonic tone. Such as someone angry would sound like.

After that, we found out that Katy would be forever paralyzed from the knees down. I believe she didn't know it was karma, but it was and from then on if I ever had problems, Mary would solve them. That is, until the first year of High School. The hallways were so busy with jocks, nerds and populars. I realized a girl who was always alone whether it was the cafeteria, study hall, or even getting ready for next period. One day, I decided to make good with her so she wouldn't be so lonely. After a few sleepovers and parties, Mary got jealous. She set my friends bedroom on fire, hoping it would spread but luckily her father got there just in time to put out the fire that only ruined her vanity. Marcy, the one and only real friend I had, believed I caused the fire since I have a key to her house and I'm the only one who does absolutely nothing on Thursday nights. We haven't talked until then.

I started a collage a year after graduating High School. I studied in arts. I wanted to become an artist so very bad. I drew very few pictures before I stopped. I had no more inspiration. All of it just left. I later quit collage because if this outcast in my behavior and emotions. I grew depressed and soon my mother began to believe I was going insane from talking to Mary. I told her I wasn't. She didn't believe me, her own daughter. I was transported to a nearby Mental Institution where I would live out my days and draw horrific images. All of my newly drawn paintings and pictures were about my life with Mary. Mary stayed with me in my room, especially because it was lonely. She told me on the 2nd month I've stayed here that, that she murdered my mother. Just because she sent me here. I was partially mad at Mary. I stopped talking to her for a while. But soon, I began to have nightmares about her. She wouldn't leave me. I would repeatedly scream out in terror, "Leave! Leave!"

Once, when I got to the point of annoyance, I was painting Mary. She had her favorite knife in one hand and a whip in the other. She was torturing her next victim. The victim had stated hating her ever since she met her. That sent anger throughout her and brought her to killing multiple people. But my hatred never changed. When I drew this picture, I was on the part where the victim is drawn. Once my painting was complete, I set it on my table. That night, I had a very realistic nightmare. It resembled my drawn picture I had made not too long ago. Except the victim,

was me.

{Extra- Ending}

I woke up in my bedroom. Light gleaming in from my shades. I pulled them up as I watched outside. There was a little girl, about 6 or 7 years old. She looked so lonely, I couldn't help but to visit her. "Hello? What's your name?" I asked. "Violet." She sounded shy. "That's a pretty name. Why are you sad?" "I have no friends..." "Oh. I'm sorry, Violet. Would you be my friend?" "Yes," she said happily. "But first, what's your name?" She stared at my black dress then her Hazel eyes met my green eyes as I answered her simple question. "My name is Annabelle."