I don’t remember how this all started, or why it did for the matter. I, however, do remember opening my eyes, adjusting myself to the dim lighting. I looked around, noticing how eerily silent it seemed. It felt empty.

I wasn’t sure how long I spent my times, wandering around the seemingly infinite land I was stuck in but I always ended up walking back to where I started, too scared to travel out. I do know, however, that the more time I spent, the more things I saw. They were barely noticeable until they started piling up. And I liked. I liked that a lot.

I could touch things. They were so different to what I was used to. I could see but it felt different. The skies weren’t blue here, they were purple. The grass wasn’t green, it was pink and the doves were yellow and the sea was a deep rich red. It all felt familiar, but not enough for me to grasp the concept of anything. That was alright. I didn’t mind.

I didn’t realise at the time what my purpose was, but I remember the first time I saw you. I was your friend, and somehow without saying anything, I knew you. Everything about you. I knew when was the last time you slept to how you secretly hated the frilly dresses you were made to wear. I knew you just as well as you knew me. You spent a lot of time with me, my best friend. I was with you everywhere and I grew up alongside you.

I don’t exactly know what happened to me before I was here, but when I turned ‘4 years old’, I had already known why I was here. I was for you. My father had told me when I was 9 that children don’t have imaginary friends, they were real, that they had a story behind them. At this stage, I understood that the longer the wait, the more I would come to know.

You enjoyed talking to me, sitting on the edge of the road, watching the cars drive by and enjoying the seasonal breezes they brought alongside them. You had a soft calming voice. It was the softest thing I’ve heard, it was calming to me, like a drug to my turbulent thoughts when you gone. I don’t tell you this, of course, you were too young to understand. You mesmerised me, the way you walk with a sense of elegance and superiority despite being so young. The way your eyes flutter when you don’t understand something to the cute inflections in your tone. But the one thing I liked the most was your hands. They were much warmer than mine, but very cold at the same time. You had long slender fingers that seemed to contradict my short baby looking hands, but you would always smile at them no matter what, holding onto mine tighter, spreading warmth throughout my warmthless body.

A few years past, and you soon became the most adorable person I’ve met. I would wait every day for you to talk to me. It was a lot less