As a child, I thought he was my imaginary friend. He would always play with me and cheer me up when the other kids did not want me part of their group. People left me alone because they thought I was mentally challenged for talking to nothing, which was fine because I had him. My father had always informed me that I was a special child and there was nothing to worry about and I believed it. As I got older, my "imaginary friend" disappeared and suddenly started appearing in my dreams. Not often, but once in a while. I never questioned his existence; it was more like I accepted that he was there, until he appeared at my doorstep.