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My Imaginary Friend

I’m the only one that knows of the mystery behind the mark on my kid brother’s neck. No one else is aware. They won’t believe me anyway if I told them.

It happened five years ago. I had an imaginary friend, the gender was male. I talked to him everyday. We became so close, I could almost feel he was real. I had to remind myself each time that imaginary friends aren’t real; they exist only in our heads. I was only 11. Five years ago, mother was also pregnant.

I was chatting with him as usual one day when I mentioned, “I wished you’re real.” The next day, mother came in to give me a birthday invitation card from one of my friends. I hurriedly tore it open to see whose birthday I would be attending. There was another paper inside with a drawing on it, a heart precisely. My friend must have drawn it, I thought.

Gradually, I moved on with life, forgot about my imaginary friend. I mean, I was growing up. Not until the day I was playing with kid brother. He mentioned an unusual word—a word only I and my imaginary friend knew about. I was surprised.

“Where did you hear that from?” I asked with a baffled face.

He smiled at me, stood up and brought his neck nearer to me. “Do you remember this heart?”

My memory quickly rushed back to the day I saw that mark. “But how come? Who are you?”

He stared at me so hard. “Well, you wished I was real. So … here I am.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He sighed. “I’m your imaginary friend. The one you used to know. I granted your wish.”

“Wait … what?” I said in a rush.

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