I shuddered to think what I would find at the end of the alley. All the note I found in my cubicle at work contained was the address of the office building to the right, the number 5, and the word 'come'. I couldn't just not go.
At last I came to the end, and as my eyes adjusted to the night's darkness, I was brought back to my childhood, for there, at the end of the alleyway stood my imaginary friend from when I was five years old. A combination of all the colors and animals a kid of that age could name. I thought back to the common ways this story ends in fiction and concluded that either I was going mad or my understanding of physics would have to be reevaluated.
"Until next time", It said in the kind of sickly cheery voice you imagine from an imaginary friend.
"Wait!", I shouted hoping no one was around to think me crazy. But it had already disappeared.
And so, that was why the next day, Saturday, I decided to take the three hour journey to my childhood home.
"I sure wish you would visit more often"
"You know I'm busy Mom, besides aren't I visiting now?"
"I suppose, she said, it just gets lonely here, alone"
I understood, I was an only child, but when I moved out seven years ago, I figured my parents would at least have each other. But then my father died in a work related accident.
I didn't know what I was looking for, all I knew was my mother never threw out anything I made. So, when I went to my room, and couldn't find my drawings of my imaginary friend, I was slightly put off, when I asked my her she was quite surprised, which I figured was because she figured nothing in the house would ever get lost despite her constant hoarding.
That Monday, I got another note in the mail. This one was similar to the first, but this one contained a different address and the number 10 instead. And so I approached the alley to the right of this approach, and spotted a man dressed as a superhero, who I quickly realized was a character from a show I watched when I was ten. He said his goodbye and started to leave. But I jumped in his way before he could. As we collided into each other, he fell down, and I he spoke again, but this time he sounded different, he sounded oddly familiar.
And it came to me all at once, it was the only person who was familiar with what I enjoyed as a kid, it was my mother. And it dawned on me the measures a parent would go to be with their child again.
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This is a very poignant story.
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