Unimaginary Friend

"Who are you?" Amanda asked the child at the bottom of the slide. She just appeared out of nowhere, looking up at Amanda with vacant, black eyes. "How did you get here?" Amanda looked around. There were no gaps in the solid wooden fence and she was pretty sure this girl couldn't have climbed that high or dropped that far without injuring herself. She was pencil thin and wore a stained white dress that looked like one of the sheets mama put on her bed. And it was so strange to Amanda that the girl was wearing no shoes, her feet bare and muddy and covered in scabs and scars. She felt bad for the girl.

"Hey!" Amanda called, sliding down to meet the girl face to face. "Do you talk?" Amanda waited. The girl said nothing. "I'm Amanda, what's your name?" Again, the girl did not respond. Amanda tilted her head. Can she not talk? Maybe I should go get mama, Amanda thought. She looked up at the kitchen window where her mother was washing dishes at the sink. Her mother glanced out the window, smiled, and waved a soapy sponge at Amanda. Amanda waved back and shrugged.

"I guess mama doesn't care if I have friends over. Wanna go play?" The girl simply blinked at her. "C'mon!" Amanda grabbed the girl's thin fingers and raced toward her playhouse.

"We can play tea party, or go on an adventure through the forest, or battle dragons. Oh, but not real dragons, just pretend ones. Do you play pretend? It's my favorite. I like to pretend I'm a bird and fly around," Amanda lowered her voice to a whisper, "I can't actually fly though." She giggled as she led the girl into the playhouse and plopped onto the floor, dragging the girl down with her.

"You're hands are really cold, ya know? You should warm up." As if to prove her point, Amanda grasped the girl's shoulders, rubbing her hands up and down the girl's arms. "See, do you feel better now? My mama does this when I get cold, and then she gives me a big hug and I'm all warm again." Amanda brings the girl in for a stiff hug before pulling back quickly. "You're so cold! Hold on, I'll get you a blanket."

Leaping from her seat, Amanda flew out the playhouse door, tripping on the steps before picking herself back up and racing inside. Ignoring her mother's confused "what are you doing?" Amanda raced into her room, grabbed her warmest blanket, and raced back outside and into the playhouse.

Only, when she opened the door, the strange girl was gone. Amanda searched everywhere -- under the playhouse, in the shed, behind the trees, she even climbed up the slide and stood on tiptoes to peer into her neighbor's yard, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Dejected, Amanda sulked back into the house.

The next day, Amanda raced out to the backyard and stood at the top of the slide for hours, but the girl didn't come. She did this again and again and again. Day after day after day, but the girl never returned. Eventually, Amanda gave up on her search for her missing friend and simply continued her lonely play while her mother worked and took care of her baby brother.

One shiney, summer afternoon, Amanda had just woken from her nap, her imagination running wild from a dream she had of an epic hide and seek game. Inspired, and full of energy, Amanda pretended she had a dozen (despite not knowing what a dozen is) friends over and they decided to play hide and seek. First, it was Amanda's turn to seek. She closed her eyes, counted to 10, and shouted "ready or not, here I come!" at the top of her lungs. Then she took off, racing behind trees and checking inside the shed and under the table and behind the chairs and occasionally yelling "found you!" when she pretended to find one of her "friends".

It was fun, but Amanda felt lonely. When it was her turn to hide, she ducked behind her favorite tree, an evergreen who's branches kissed the ground, creating a canopy of deep green that smelled like the forest. She's hid here many times in both pretend and real games of hide and seek, but this was the first time she hid and cried. Tears dripped down her cheeks and she wondered if anyone would find her if she decided to just stay here.

So, that's what she did. She hid and waited. She waited until the light seeping through the branches faded from gold to orange to black. She waited until her mother's calls grew from concerned to frantic to pleading for her to return. She waited until the lights and sirens faded and the strange men and women in uniforms moved around the yard with flashlights and shining badges. No one found her. No one knew she was there. Amanda waited until her eyes grew heavy and her head rested in the pine needles.

"Found you." Amanda woke to a whisper. "I found you." A girl's voice pulled her from sleep. It was a struggle to open her heavy eyes, but when she did she saw the skinny girl's dark gaze boring into her.

"You're here." Amanda cried, her voice catching in her throat. "My friend, you found me." Amanda smiled and threw herself at the girl, wrapping her arms around the cold figure. Thin, frail arms wrapped around Amanda in return.

"Wait," Amanda pulled back, "did you just speak."

The girl's thin lips pulled into a shy smile as she nodded.

"My name," the girl whispered horsely, "is Chuckah."

Amanda squealed and pulled Chuckah in close. "Chuckah, my friend!" She grinned.

"You're mama," Chuckah whispered the reminder, causing Amanda to jump up in alarm.

"My mama!" She yelled, pushing aside branches and moving past Chuckah. "Wait," she said, stopping in her tracks. "Will you play with me tomorrow?"

Chuckah smiled and nodded, causing Amanda to grin and clap her hands in excitement.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Amanda called as she ran off into the house.

Her mother was furious, and scared, and happy, and relieved, and sad when she saw her. She held her baby and cried and cried and cried before Amanda had to push away and ask to be taken to her bed. She was tired and had a playdate to look forward to.

The next day, Chuckah and Amanda played pretend and had tea parties and played a proper game of Hide and Seek. Day after day, they played together and shared stories of their home and life and imaginary worlds until one day Amanda had a different question, so she sat Chuckah down in the playhouse and said with her head down: "Chuckah, my mama can't see you. She says you're my imaginary friend that I made up in my head. Are you real?"

Chuckah simply smiled and took Amanda's hand. "I'm real to you," she said before pulling Amanda in a big hug.