I sat there, with my maker, 7 years old at this time, he and I were playing outside, roaming around

the yard. We occasionally would go out to have fun in the woods, only if his mother would allow though. She would watch and follow behind, as we caught butterflies and picked flowers for her. She saw me as nothing really, just as a figment of her son's imagination. Maybe I was just that, maybe I wasn't. She wouldn't have known at the time being.

Lake was his name, as he told me many times, also as I heard his parents call for him just as many times. He was approaching his 11th birthday now, just a week away. Some of his friends would also play with me, only, they saw me differently. The way I was envisioned by them, was quite different, they saw me as a boy younger than themselves, one they could control. My true "being" was rather, a young boy of the same age, who was just as, if not more, independent than those children. They didn't care much for me, but they still enjoyed having me around.

Now we are 13, I don't get as much time, out with Lake. He's gotten too involved in other things, such as games and his electronic devices. But he would still decide to come out to run with me every now and then. His friends began teasing him, for hanging out with me. This not only hurt his feeling, but it also hurt me as well, me as a figment of his imagination. I was slowly getting pushed to the back of his mind.

"Hey!" I shouted at him.

"What do you want?" Lake replied unhappily

"We never talk anymore, let's go out to have fun, you are 16 now, you deserve to go out!" I groaned. "Come on!"

I tried to persuade him, after 5 minutes, it worked!

Although, he did not do what I was expecting.

"You see her?" He said nodding his head toward a young woman, about his age. "Yeah what about her?" I questioned, at the back of his mind.

"I would do anything to hang out with her, She's amazing."

"Stop gawking, She'll notice!" I snapped at him in a jokingly way

They began to hang out more after he made his first move. I was shut out almost completely.

********

I began to turn into mostly a thought, wavering, floating, trembling at the edge of his brain, close to falling off. Off to a pit of darkness, never to be imagined again.

Lake is now 28, he married that girl he gawked at, some years ago. They now have one child. Delta, his wife, decided to do some cleaning around the house. She came across an old toy, Lake and I would fight over. Lake strolled into the room as she was beginning to throw it away.

"Wait!" He shouted, not too loudly, to wake his 11-month-old baby.

"That was from when I was a boy, I'd like to keep that on display, Gray can play with it, once he gets older."

That is when I slowly came out from the shadows of his memories. I began to haunt him.

"About time you showed up."

I'd whisper in his ear, while he'd try to sleep.

"Leave me alone!"

He began to shout for me to leave after about a month of me "pestering" him, as he says.

Poor Delta began to worry about him. Even went so far as to put him into counseling, assuming maybe some demons possessed him somehow, as she was quite the believer in the paranormal. She couldn't bear to see him like this. She would try to comfort him but to no avail.

They did many things, nothing to kick me out of his ever growing, painful, pulsing, aching mind. He tried everything himself, to stop me. I wasn't trying to create this situation in the first place. But the darkness consumed me.

He began shouting at me like a madman!

His desperate wife had had enough of it.

She phoned someone who neither of us knows to this day.

What we thought was an ambulance, arrived and took us to a large building, what we had been thinking was a hospital, oh how we were wrong. He was put in a jacket, his arms were strained by this, tied behind his back. We walked through a hallway, with skid marks of rubber soles.

Dragged into a room, never to see the light of day again. Where I still, haunt him to this day. His wife, occasionally bringing a book for him. Not ever bringing his child, Gray. He was furious, he would scratch the walls and floor. Begging the guards to let him out. He screamed at me, I was now a shadow in his room. One that only came out in the night, I grabbed at his feet all night. Never to stop. Not until we both die.

He went so far, as to attack others, which led to things we cannot remember... we are gone now, goodbye.

It all came down to one shot, one needle, one bed, three straps. Nothing else. It all ended there. An injection. Lethal.

****{ Lake }****

Was it all a dream... I'm afraid not... He was a friend, I thought. Could he have been something else? May he had been an imposter?

My family grieves for me. Not in the most loving way, rather a way of

"How did this lovely boy come to this?"

If I am being completely honest. I don't know. I tried to convince them all that I was sane. But they all disdained my claims. My poor wife, she grieved, with love, but with regret as well, for she was the one who called the unknown people on me.

I never got to raise my son. I never got to see his beautiful legs run. I got to see a tooth... That was all. That tooth was forever in my mind until that fatal needle.

****{ Delta }****

I am filled with the utmost regret, I can never forgive myself for what I have done. But I recollect that it may have been the best choice. Whether this was the cause of a demon or not. I cannot face his grave. I will pass flowers to him every six months, but I'm afraid I cannot do any more than that. It bears too much guilt on me. I feel as if I caused this.

****{ Gray }****

Dear Dad,

15 years from the day you died, I am almost 16 now. I am quite distressed by the fact that I can barely remember your face. I am almost ashamed. There is not one day that passes, that I don't think of you. I used to always wondering, what caused you to do such things. I was so naive at the age of eight, I guess that's why I was never told. I know now, that you were diagnosed with the mental disease of Schizophrenia. You didn't know what all was the cause of your actions. You were wrongly sentenced to death. I am sorry so many people rejected you. Mom still will cry over the one family picture we have, Mom has declared that re-marriage won't be an option. There is almost nothing I can do to comfort her.

Love,

Gray (16)

Dear Dad part 2,

Mom has now passed, as much as she loved it here on this earth, she decided it would be better to let herself go. She must be happy where she is now. She prayed she would be able to leave her guilt for you behind. She has done that now. I will still weep every now and then over the loss of her.

I now have a wife and children of my own, Mom only got to witness the birth of two of the four little "fries" as we call them. We named the youngest Delta, after Mom, we named the middle one, Laker, after you. The other two, are twins. Brookneice and Charlie, two beautiful young girls. I miss you. My wife, Jordan, is amazing, she helps me through it all. If only you were here to see.

With love, ~ Gray.