Your Imaginary Friend

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The single dull light illuminated the dark forest and caught the curiosity of a small group of moths and other insects. The woodland around the cabin was oddly void of sound except for the occasional hoot of a single great-horned owl who nested on top of the lonely structure. If anyone were here to see the cabin, it would send chills down their spine and cause them to run in the other direction as quickly as possible. Then again, what if someone was in that abandoned cabin? What if it was you?

If you were to walk down the path into this dense forest, you’d notice the odd way the trees wilted down the middle creating a hooded path that hid most of the moonlight trying to shine through. You would continue to walk straight into the forest on the narrow path to inevitable calamity. As you get closer, a feeling of dread takes over and causes each step you take to feel heavier and heavier. You begin hyperventilating, and the realization washes over you that you’re in grave danger. You don’t know how you got there or how you’ll get out, but you can’t stop walking toward the cabin. You cannot control your movements. You are not in control. It becomes evident that the cabin is pulling you closer toward itself. As you reach the steps, the candle in the window mocks you, it’s an omen, and it lets you know that you can’t leave.

Even though there are only six steps, each step takes an eternity to get up to the aged porch. When you arrive on the porch, you look to your left and stare at the candle for a couple of seconds before extending your hand and turning the door knob. What would you expect? Old furniture? Some graffiti and maybe some ritualistic writings? No, you look inside and see the inside of your childhood home. Oddly you feel a sense of comfort wash over you; for some reason, the image of your old couch and tv make you feel a sense of serenity. You walk in and see all the pictures and decorations, and you see the kitchen that provided you and your family with many meals and snacks. As you take a tour around the house, taking in every memory, you come across your old bedroom, but something is wrong. The dread comes back, and you begin to feel an overwhelming uncertainty. You stand there facing your old bed, back to the doorway, when you hear footsteps. As they get closer, you freeze.

With your eyes squeezed shut, you wait there stiff and motionless. You feel the figure getting closer, and you contemplate charging out of the room and making your way out of this god-forsaken cabin. Instead of following your instincts, you stay and pray this is only a messed-up nightmare that will have you waking up in your bed sweating. Suddenly the footsteps stop and you hear a voice call your name. You recognize the voice as your mother's, and you turn around quickly only to see a faceless creature in your mother's clothes. You push the beast away at that moment and run past her back into the kitchen, where you stop in your tracks. You see another faceless figure standing at the kitchen counter. This figure is wearing your father’s clothing and starts speaking an unintelligible language. You close your eyes, cover your ears, and repeat to yourself that this is just some messed-up dream. However, it’s not.

You open your eyes, and you open your eyes to find that the perfect replica of your old home is now in ruin, and the creatures posing as your parents are gone. It was dark and silent, just as you suspected it to be. Fear has replaced the merry you experienced in your first few moments here. A light in the front of the room comes from a single candle on the windowsill. It was the same candle you had seen before. Though a calm wind went through the false home, the candle flame stayed reasonably still.

“Hello.” A deep voice materialized from behind her. You turn and see “him.”

This burly figure is abnormally tall and intimidating. The creature had an intense aroma reminiscent of old fruit and earthy aromas. It was wearing an old gray mask that was cracked and marked with dirt. The front covered its whole face and had a sizeable nightmarish smile. The eyeholes were hollow, showed no signs of life, and seemed decorated with red tears. The mask had three horns; however, the middle horn was more prominent than the other two and was broken, which seemed befitting for the ominous character. The figure appears only to be wearing a long cloak that conceals the rest of his body, it seemed like a pretty generic look, but there was something more to it. Something you can not remember but you've seen before.

“W-who are you,” you can barely stutter the words out of your mouth. “What are you? WHY AM I HERE?!”

“Do you not remember why you are here? Do you not remember HOW you got here?” It states.

You don’t answer, so the monster moves closer to you and reiterates his previous questions. You try to think quickly and remember why you’re there, but you can’t figure out why you’re in this “cabin.” The creature reaches out to you, and you can see underneath the cloak for the first time, albeit only a tiny portion. Its arm was gray and grimy, and it looked as if it was devoid of any life. It touches your shoulder with its cold, lifeless hand and traces it down your arm until it reaches your hand. The creature takes your hand and squeezes it. You stand there trembling as the beast pulls you closer and embeds his nails into your hand.

“How can you not remember ME? I have always been here. I have always been watching you. I have always been in your dreams. In this cabin, we used to play.” Its tone of voice changes from that of aggression to that of sorrow.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t remember you. This looks like my old house, but I do not remember ever being in a cabi-”

“YOU LIAR!” It interrupts. “You remember this house but not me. I have always been there. I have always been watching.”

You try to put the pieces together, but nothing is adding up. Nothing you could think of could help you in this situation, and you become increasingly panicked. From what you can remember, you had a reasonably normal childhood. Even though your parents used to fight a lot, you never really had too much of a problem. You never wanted for much and kept to yourself at home. You had few friends, so at a young age, you would sometimes create friends and talk to them about things you couldn’t discuss with anyone else. Other than that, you had a pretty normal childhood, right? Why does this figure say that it knows you? Why does it know what your old house looks like? Your heart starts racing faster, and you begin thinking about what you did before this nightmare. You start to wonder when this dream will end or if it is even a dream. You look into its eyes and plead with it to let you go, but it falls upon deaf ears as the beast aggressively jerks you closer to the candle in the window.

“You used to light this for me every night until you just stopped,” he says. “You used to talk to me every night and light this candle so I would not be stuck in the darkness of this cabin.”

“I-I don’t understand why I’m here. Please let me go!” You cry out.

“Look into my eyes.” The creature pulls you closer, and you look up at its eyes again, but you can see the creature’s eyes this time. They are white with no visible pupils or veins, but you start to remember this creature once you see them. You thought he was just a figment of your imagination when you were younger, a voice in your head. When you were about 5 or 6, you started talking to a disembodied voice from your open window. You were initially afraid because you thought it was the monster outside your bedroom, but each time you would call your parents to check, there was nothing there. You notice that your parents started to get mad when you would call them into your room, so you decide to talk to the specter yourself. The voice seemed kind and always talked about how dark it was where he lived, and he had no light source, so you took a candle from your mother’s collection, lit it for the voice every night, and placed it on the open windowsill. This arrangement continued for a couple of years until you were around eight when you asked the voice what it looked like.

The specter agreed that last night you talked to it but with one condition; no matter what you see, you must always keep a candle lit in the window every night, or one day you will be stuck in the darkness. Of course, as a child, you agreed to its terms. You got the candle, lit it, and waited for the voice to show itself to you, but you were not prepared for what you saw. The figure through your window was sinister and not what you imagined the sweet creature to be. The beast was big and horrid, with a smell that almost made you gag. You stand there in pure horror, and you quickly run past the creature to the candle and blow it out, hoping it will make him disappear, and it does. You run back into your bed, hide under your covers and tell yourself it’s just a dream, just as you are doing now.

“You remember now.” It says.

“Yes… but I can’t stay here,” you plead. “I was a child I didn’t know any better. Please let me go, and I will light a candle for you every night for the rest of my life.”

The creature calmly releases you and backs away from the window. As you watch it, you notice it starts to take off its cloak, and you see its body, which looks like a tall dead man. The man raises his hand onto his face and reveals his face. He looked about your age but grey and rotting. He hands you the cloak and mask.

“It is your time now,” he states. “I hope a child leaves a candle in the window for you as well.”

He walks towards the door, leaving you confused and scared, but before you can yell out to him, he walks out of the cabin and slams the door causing the candle to go out, leaving you in the dark cabin. You are alone, with no one to talk to in this pitch-black hell hole, but then you hear a voice at the window.