My earliest memory was my friend Len and I playing in the back yard. I was four, but Len was an adult. My mom and dad claimed Len was never real. But he was, Len was my best friend until I was seven. Len had white hair, a white shirt, green vest and grey pants. He was sweet, but very strange. He had one of his eyes closed and a scar was over it. But I loved Len. Normally we would play, he'd tell me about his pets. He had a horse, Len loved to talk about the horse, yet I've forgotten what its name was. Len never did hurt me, he was a good influence. He taught me too defend myself against bullies. He'd warn me of bad things happening. I'd tell my grandma about Len and I. She was the only one who'd believe me. Grandma hated Len though, she'd always tell me to leave him alone and that he was a bad omen. I ignored her. I don't doubt it. At the age of seven Len was with me again. We were playing like everyday, but today we were playing in the front yard. I remember his words well, "Alright now. Please keep remembering me." I asked, "Why?" He responded, "I must go. I'll be back. As long as you remember." I nodded and he walked away. My life got a lot lonelier after Len left. At the age of twelve I started to doubt him. For two weeks I had a recurring dream of his shaming me, telling me this is wrong, that the worst would come without him. I caved though and the dreams went away. I'm 19 now, and Len has come back, kind of. Every time something incredible happens he'll show up in the back. At my high school graduation. I could see some one who looked exactly like Len in the crowd. I'll never know who Len is. I'll never know why Grandma hates him.
Posted by u/RkBackAtItAgain