My Imaginary Creature

This was for a contest I was doing....

 

 My Imaginary Friend

 

 

 I stare up to the black sky, littered with clouds. I frown and yell at the clouds in frustration. Why can’t I remember?! My thoughts are thought of then yelled on to the sky. Yes, people look and stare at me as though I am one of the clouds that I yell at. The clouds mock me; they show me a reflection of my own brain. Muddled and ever changing…and forgetting.

 

 I shove my hands in my pockets and continued down the trail moodily.  I can remember it.  Or at least most of it. I remember it’s imaginary. That it didn’t exist, no, I learned that it never existed. I learned that the things I make up don’t exist, or do they? But I can remember it.

 

 I remember the striped the skin. The skin was layered with the colors of green and black, complementing each other wonderfully. I can remember talking to it. Sometimes its voice was high as the miniature bells that hang off my gold bracelet. Sometimes its voice was low like a cow’s moo. We would talk of nonsense, didn’t we?

 

 I continue stomping on the rocky path, grumbling about the green bells. I look up at the sky, now clear. But why aren’t my thought also? As I progress down the windy road, I start to force memories out of their ancient shells.

 

 I remember the wisps of hair that blew onto my face upon the cold November days. Tufts of hair were blue, red, and yellow. They clashed within themselves, creating a masterpiece with every breeze. I remember combing the long long hair, letting them waterfall on the green-striped-black shoulders. Braiding the mane would result in a rainbow resting within my palms.  A pair of black baby horns protruded my palette. They were black as ebony, shiny as obsidian, and smooth as a old river rock that has resided in the river for awhile.

 

  I remember that it wore a lengthy dress, which shone as bright as a camera’s flash. The dress was like the sun. It seduced you to look at it yet it was dangerous to look upon it. Was that why it went away? I am on the ground now, bending to the will of my aggravation cause by the unwillingness of my mind. Why won’t my mind remember? Is it hard? Was it not important to me? My head rests against a random tree in the darkness. The skies are cluttered once again. My eyes are closed, trying uselessly to imagine it.

 

  I see darkness. I don’t see the multihued hair, the tiny horns, or the brilliant white dress. I see darkness. I open my eyes. I stand up and I realized one thing that night. My imaginary friend is no longer important. It doesn’t exist, I’m grown up. I understand. There is a sway in my walk as I finish the walking on the trail. I don’t remember its name, maybe because it never existed.

Author's Note

I'm alittle anxouis about the contest. SO how about you people out there, give me some of your thoughts on this short story?

Reviews

[Always Changing]

Wow. Really good imagery. Definitely created and pressed upon my own imagination your creature. Thank you for sharing this. I really enjoyed reading it and I could really see this making a good children's story.