Imaginary Friend (novel) Novels & Stories

i walk to my sit and smile when i see what they wrote on my writing desk MONKEY GIRL . . .i smile cause if really am a monkey they won't be staying in the same class with me . . . .i rest my head on the desk . .and go into the dreamland . . . .i dream about me holding a toy playing with it . . someone come from nowhere and want to collect it . . .as am draging it from his hand . .suddenly he become a zombie and bite me. . ....ahhhhhhhh . . . i scream out in real life.

For almost 300 chapters, I wrote the story of six imaginary characters, and somewhere along the line, I forgot that they were just a figment of my imagination. I fell in love with their pain and their stories, and for one year, they were the one constant in my otherwise unbalanced life. If you are reading this, then they grew on you, too. Thank you for staying with me as I poured my imagination onto paper. Our journey has to end here, but this journey would have been nothing without you, my precious readers. I hope you stay back and become more than just a reader but part of the family. If you hang on a bit longer, we could also grow along with the new characters in my new books.

The hope of friendship still lingers in my mind. Despite my struggling life with my roommate my new novel gained momentum, which was focusing on the lives of wealthy individuals, I found myself caught up in the writing process. My editor, Henry, was pleased with my work, and it felt great. My new novel is based on my current situation. But picturing Haze to be more sweet, extraverted, and delicate. Each morning, I would wake up and head to the private gym in the apartment building that I had discovered a few weeks ago. Haze never mentioned its existence, and when I asked her about it, she simply shrugged and said, "You never asked," with an indifferent expression.

***Patricia*** My mental health is hanging by a thread. I’m barely holding it together, yet here I am, trying to advise my best friend, Hyacinth, who’s even more unstable than I am. The weight of her daily trauma makes my struggles feel almost trivial in comparison. Just this morning, I was lost in the fantasy world of my ebook, a temporary escape from reality. Now? My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, conjuring up countless scenarios of how to catch the bastard who’s been tormenting us. I imagine shoving his face into a cloud of pollen, watching him suffer as Hyacinth has suffered. The thought brings me a twisted sense of satisfaction.

“I’m stronger and more capable than you think.” “I know,” he said, a flicker of pride in his eyes. “That’s what scares me.” Releasing me, he walked over to a bookshelf, retrieving a book that initially seemed to hold the answers I sought. But its plain cover and nondescript binding left me feeling disappointed. “Is this it?” I asked, trying to mask my disillusionment. Sarge shrugged. “It’s not real. We never stole the real book. When Dad was nearly at war, he created this as a peace offering. It never came to that.”

Ah, I've been waiting for that question since earlier. "I'm glad you asked. You see, this is the real world. Reality. But what you're living in could be called another world, but a different world where people from the real world such as us, create plots and characters to our own liking. That is what we call a book, or a novel. We read it but you get to live a life in that world of yours with your own thoughts, dreams, ideals, ambition, interests and actions, but it will all follow according to the Author's plot. And if the story is finished, I'm not sure what happens next. And the world you are living in is called 'Endless Poison Love', its a fantasy-romance novel." I explained.

“I see him in flashes. I used to think he was my imaginary friend. He would come to me after my dad left. It's funny. He was a vampire. My imaginary friend was a vampire and my dad was a wolf. Tell me I didn’t have a screwed-up childhood. He still talks to me in my dreams. He always tells me he is looking for me and my sister. Thing is, I don't have a sister.” Quinn was intrigued by her story. “Go on?” “There is not much to tell. I must have been six or seven when he first showed up in my playroom. I was playing dress-up with my dolls, and he sat down beside me and handed me an outfit. Over the years he came back and talked to me. He told me stories about the universe and magic

But the timing was awful with everything she lost. Now, she was calm. He could sense the constant storm of her emotions abated and that she was just enjoying the sound of the night time crickets beneath the dazzling stars. “Who was the other child? Is that the only associate you have?” He asked softly, stroking her hair tenderly. “Blake has been my only friend.” She admitted softly. After a moment of silence, she added “And my imaginary friend mimi.” Her voice indicated how ridiculous she thought an imaginary friend was.

Clairmont too, looked like he was deeply thinking about something, so the two of us resumed our walking silently, entertaining our own thoughts. “Do this novel of yours tell anything about that girl?” I snapped out from my pondering. Buffering for a bit, I glanced up to him and shook my head a no. “Surprisingly enough, that girl never exist in the novel.” “Even though she is able to mind-control Carter and told him to walk to a certain direction?” Suddenly he snickered. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think him meeting that group of humans is a coincidence.” Now that he mentioned it…

I had to have done that before, especially in a more reserved place. Zylah had only believed it because she was crazy, and had a great tendency to wish her literary novels were real. Even if I were lying, she would create a world based on my information, just to have a parallel reality in which to live. Even if she was suffering from vomiting, even if she felt the energy in the air, she still had a hallucinated glow in her eyes. The way she was when she started a new book and swore with her feet together that her favorite characters were real people and that she just didn't know them because she was an ordinary human.