Faith

Chapter 1

My name is Tate, legally. My friends call me Eli and my brother calls me Max. Within all aspects, I am not a real person. To me and my brother, I feel real. I should be. To all my friends, I am not here.

It's quite hard to explain.

I have this friend Faith. She is my best friend. I told her about this nightmare that I had a few weeks ago. She didn't believe me. People who don't exist can't have nightmares.

I should've told my brother about it because I know he would've believed me, but I tend to avoid worrying him. I know he definitely has enough on his mind with the court case. The apartment. The groceries. Mom.

I told Faith that in my nightmare, I was stuck in a clear box. She was looking for me everywhere. For some reason, she couldn't see me. I banged against the box and screamed that I was there. She broke down crying.

What I didn't tell her is that at the end of it, she was so broken up that she basically tore herself apart while I watched. Unable to do anything but scream and cry.

What she still doesn't know is that after every word I say to her, I still think about that dream.

I'd tell her the rest but I tend to avoid worrying her. She has enough to worry about with school, homework, and her depression.

She says that to some people depression is like being so sad that even easy things seem difficult, but for her it's just a lot of blank paper and a pen that's running out of ink.

She's better at not worrying than my brother. She likes to shrug things off. Sometimes she likes to shrug me off but I don't really mind.

I tend not to show up at school all the time. The office ladies have a deal with me, so it's always excused even if I just don't feel like going.

The deal goes that my absences are excused as long as I don't talk about why. I understand that most people would love to have that opportunity, but to me it's just frustrating knowing that sympathy is a chore for them. Maybe they worry too much.

I try to go to school as much as possible when Faith's around. She says that when I dont go to school, she has to come check on me. She doesn't have to, but I don't get a say in that because I don't exist. She says that she doesn't like going to the apartment because it's too small to hold all her big ideas.

I guess my ideas are small enough to fit inside two bedrooms.