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Imaginary Friend
I call out to her, but I was greeted by silence. Every day I waited for her to show up, to say she was alright, to wave hello, to show me she was real and not just in my head; I knew I wasn’t crazy, I knew that I saw her; she was as real as anything; her hair was a bronzey hew and her eyes were a bright blue, and I remember holding out my hand for her because she was lost, and I knew she had nowhere to go, so I allowed her to stay; once in a while when the sun sets and the clocks read 12 am, I still see her glancing at me from the corner of my room.
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This story is about my childhood and vivid imagination. I have always been a spiritual person as ghosts have always fascinated me. Many spirits I believe stay in our world because they are lost or unable to move. I thought this story would be perfect to represent how others spend their whole lives being jealous and wishing they were someone else when all they should do is move on. I also used Lydia’s one-sentence story as a format for this one and I think the long sentence plays well into the flow of the story.