Half-real

“Alev honey, there’s mail for you!........ Alev?.............. ALEV!” I sigh. No point ignoring it anymore. “What is it?” I ask, preparing for the worst. “Jeez Alev, you could answer me the first time and not make me climb all the way up here! You know I'm getting old!” I roll my eyes. Of course she’s not getting old. She’s thirty and I tell her just that. “Old!” She replies, but with a smile. Zane is my aunt’s wife, we’ve been living with her and my aunt, Amaryllis, since my mom, my brother and I moved in with them last July. “So, about that mail” I say, the dread returning. “Yeah, about that” a knot forms in my stomach as she holds it out to me “it's from your friend!” Wait. What? I don't have any friends, not that Zane would know that, but still, who would be writing letters to me? “Which friend?” I ask. She rolls her eyes at me “uh, Flynn, obviously! The one who you're always talking about!” I grab the letter from her and she laughs, “well I better leave you to read that!” 

This can't be from Flynn. It can't. Flynn isn't…… but anyways! Wasn’t that letter from Mr. Sanders supposed to arrive today? The one that would ruin everything? Maybe he forgot, or maybe it got lost in the mail or maybe, maybe, maybe. No maybes, time to open the letter once and for all. The envelope says: Alev Colburn, 182 Veridian drive, Monponsett Massachusetts. Well it can't just be a mistake. The return address simply says ‘Flynn’. As I slowly peel open the envelope the truth dawns on me. I'm receiving letters from ghosts. Flynn isn't really a ghost, because he was never alive, but he certainly can't send me letters. Flynn isn't real, I made him up because my mom was worried that I didn't have enough friends, or any. I made up Flynn the next day, saying that he was a new student and we had immediately become friends; Recently though, he’s been seeming more real than just a lie. I have an image of what he looks like in my mind that I didn't make up. I can sometimes hear his voice in my dreams, and it's not the voice of anyone I know. The letter I was about to get from Mr. Sanders would’ve ruined the whole charade. He was going to tell my family about how worried he was about me, about how I hadn't had any friends since Sam moved away. Then my mom would know about everything. 

I have to open the letter. Somehow I know that will explain everything, and I need to know. Something stops my fingers from pulling the paper out though, like I shouldn't have this, like it wasn't meant for me. But it was, it has my name on it! I know that isn't the problem, but finally I convince myself to pull out the paper and unfold it. I see a short message scribbled on a scrap of paper.

Alev, I know you don't 

think I exist, but please,

hear me out. I’ll see you 

Tomorrow at midnight,

You better be ready.

I stare at the paper, rereading it over and over, willing the words to rearrange themselves into something that makes sense. Could it be possible that Flynn is real? That I didn't invent him? But how? How could that be possible? I could go on and on forever spiraling into my thoughts and questions, but Zane appears at the door to save me. I rearrange my face into something that looks like I didn't just get a letter from an imaginary boy and she seems to believe it. “Dinners ready!” she tells me and stomps back down the stairs, her boots amplifying her already loud steps. I sigh and put the letter down, hoping that when I get back upstairs it will say something different, have a different return address, maybe be from that girl in math who sometimes talks to me. I know it won't, but I can hope. 

Dinner is tense. I want to get back to my room to study the letter, but Amaryllis wants to play a board game. I tell her I have homework and my mom asks why I have homework over winter break. I sigh, “fine I don't have homework, I just got to the really good part in my book and I want to keep reading” it's a weak lie, but it’ll have to do. Still, for the rest of dinner everyone shoots me glances, like they know I'm up to something. To break the silence I ask about my brother. He’s three years younger than me, eleven, and he went to stay with our grandparents for break. They offered to take me too, but their house always smells weird and I don't want to leave Zane. She's the only one who gets me. My mom is the one who answers, “Caspian is fine, he loves staying with them, I don't know why you didn't go.” She says. It's like she wants me to leave. “I wanted to stay with you guys.” I tell her, even though the only one I'm staying for is Zane. Zane married my aunt in July, a couple weeks after we moved in with her. I had never met her before so I was suspicious, but the instant I saw her I knew I liked her. 

After dinner I slip back upstairs before anyone can object. The letter is still there and it still says the same thing and it's still from Flynn. I stare at it a little longer until I see something I missed. The letter is dated for yesterday. Meet me tomorrow at midnight means today. I only have- I check my watch- five hours until I find out the truth. At this moment Zane steps in and sees me staring at the letter. “Did you get a love letter?” she jokes, I glare at her and grumble “aren't you too old to climb the stairs?” her voice softens as she says “hey, something’s on your mind, you don't have to tell me, but do you want to watch Hamilton with Thomas Jefferson?” I only glare at her for a moment more before I accept her offer. As we get settled onto the couch with Thomas Jefferson (our tortoiseshell cat), my mom walks over “isn't it too late to be watching a movie, especially a two hour long one?” she says, hands on her hips. “Oh shush Valentine” Zane replies. “It's winter break! And besides, no one messes with Hamilton or Thomas Jefferson gets mad” she holds up Thomas Jefferson and he looks far from intimidating as he grooms his fur. “Fine.” my mom sighs, “do it your way.” As we watch Hamilton the familiar music fills my ears and brain and I almost forget about the letter. No. I do forget, I vow not to worry about it anymore and block it from my mind. By the time we finish I'm feeling very calm, and the only problem in my head is the tragedy of Hamilton's death. When I get back upstairs and into bed, the letter is far from my mind, and that's why I forget to set an alarm for midnight…

At exactly twelve fifteen I feel an ominous presence and bolt up, feeling that something is very wrong. I look around the room, suddenly sweating, and see something out the window. In the glowing light of the moon, I see that there’s a boy sitting in the tree outside my window. “Flynn?” I say, not sure if this is a dream or not, the boy looks just like what I thought he would look like. The boy, Flynn, nods and points to the window latch, and in somewhat of a daze I walk over and open the window. I sit on the branch when he asks me to, his voice sounds just like the one in my dreams. This is most likely a dream, but it's so nice out here in the moonlight to think about anything like that. Flynn notices me shivering in my thin pajamas and puts an arm around me like any good friend would. We sit there for a moment, not speaking until he finally breaks the silence. “Alev…” he starts, then trails off. I turn to him in my half dream state and he continues. “You did this to me. You made me this. I will never be able to live because of you, you created me, but you went too far. Now I’m only half real, and I won't be able to forgive you for that.” I don’t process what he said until he puts his hand on my back and pushes me off the branch. Suddenly everything comes back to me, the letter, the meeting at midnight, the fact that Flynn. Isn’t. Real. My thoughts become clearer and clearer until I hit the ground, Flynn floating down next to me. “That's for starting this” he says, the calm in his voice gone. “And this is for not understanding ” He stomps on my face and everything goes black.

The next morning I wake up in my own bed, not hurt at all. So that was just a dream I think; breathing in and out, trying to slow my racing heart. Something feels off, though. That dream seemed too real to just be a dream. As I get dressed and walk downstairs, still lost in my thoughts, I almost crash into Amaryllis. “Good! I found you!” she says “you have a visitor!” I sigh and walk to the door, probably the neighbors or something. When I open the door I almost scream, standing on my doorstep is Flynn. “Can I talk to you?” he asks. I just stare at him until he drags me out the door. “Listen," he says. “I'll be back, I can't really kill you, but I’ll get as close as I can.” I stare at him again, unable to form words “why do you hate me so much?” I finally manage to say. He just glares. I try again “Okay, I know I made you ‘half real’ or something, but why is that so bad?” he rolls his eyes and glares more. I try one final thing “you tried to kill me! You at least owe me this.” he rolls his eyes again, but opens his mouth to speak “I can't do anything without you. I can't have a life, I just exist in your dreams and the borders of your world. I can't do anything on my own, and I can barely even be seen by other people.” With that he turns and walks away. The next night I wake up at twelve fifteen and see Flynn at my window, the next day I see him no matter where I turn. I hear whispers in my head, not my voice, not his. “He’s not real” they say “he’s just jealous he’s only a ghost” they whisper “just ignore him.” Easy for them to say, they didn't feel the pain the night before and they won't feel it the next night and the next night, the next and the next and the next.