Not Your Imaginary Friend

[u/GrimmInDarkness]

It was finally that time to go back home. Cam had dreaded this day, and honestly, she didn’t want to go back there. Her family home was full of good and bad memories. She would end up selling the house once everything was taken care of, along with any loose ends. Getting the keys from a family lawyer, Cam made her way over.

She began unpacking a few boxes with her name on them. Cam figured they would have been tossed out or donated. Going through these boxes, she came across some with the name Marlowe scribbled on the front. Who was this? Opening the box, Cam saw a few knickknacks and some drawings.

It wasn’t a family member that she knew. As Cam turned the drawing over, she saw her own handwriting as a child. ‘Marlowe and me! Today I met Marlowe. He says he is my imaginary friend.’ Oh… she had forgotten about that. Cam had forgotten that she had an imaginary friend.

Just like all kids, she grew up and no longer needed an imaginary friend. It honestly surprised her that her parents even kept all this stuff. Why put Marlowe’s name on it, though? Could it be because they believed she would remember? Or was it to help her remember the reason she forgot in the first place?

Furrowing her brow, Cam placed the paper back into the box and shut it. She decided to use this time to get the inflatable bed set up and get some dinner. This would be her first night back in her childhood home since she moved away for college. When she came back from getting Chinese take-out, fumbling with the keys to get inside, Cam was surprised to see a few boxes spilled out onto the floor.

She didn’t remember knocking anything over before she left. Setting her food down onto the kitchen table. Cam knelt and raked the items into the now half-empty boxes. She sat them upright where they were, not bothering to place them back where they were originally. Cam washed her hands and sat down to eat her dinner before it got cold.

Soft whispers echoed through the entrance of the house and towards the living room. Going through the dining room, it continued along with heavy footsteps following close behind it. Cam opened her eyes, straining her ears to listen to the voice whispering just outside her bedroom door. Pulling the covers up over her head, she pretended that she was still asleep. Cam had to be dreaming or just hearing things like auditory hallucinations.

In the morning when Cam stumbled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. She was met with a trail of toys leading from her bedroom door to the living room. The will to pee winning over the curiosity to follow the trail, Cam went to the bathroom first. Once she walked out, she began picking up each toy and the empty box, placing them all inside. Looking at the wall space above the fireplace, Cam saw each drawing taped to it as if in chronological order.

Shuddering, she took them all down, placing them back into the box labeled Marlowe. Cam was starting to think that her family home could be haunted. Not that voices or things moving by themselves were a sign or anything. Should she look into getting the house cleansed or blessed? If that wouldn’t anger the already agitated entity that was clearly wanting Cam’s attention.

With her curiosity satiated, she finally went to the bathroom. Cam did her business and washed her hands. As she did, the mirror seemed to fog up. Raising her head, Cam furrowed her brow and watched as the words ‘Are we still friends?’ appeared on its surface. She was about to call it out by its name, but Cam clamped her mouth shut.

If she called it out by its name, it would only empower it.

Cam smeared the words with the palm of her hand, turned out the light, and went back to the bedroom to try and sleep. Tonight, would only be the first of many where she couldn’t sleep. It got to the point that Cam began to become paranoid of her surroundings. Even when she talked to her therapist, they told her that she was imagining these things due to childhood trauma. Cam knew… she could sense that this was not a trauma response to what she was experiencing.

There was a possibility that there could be something at the library or city hall about this house. This spirit that called itself Marlowe had to have some type of connection to it. Or it attached itself to children. Cam had been a lonely child, so it was very possible that’s why it found her and latched on. Though when she left, this Marlowe may have tried to attach itself to her parents instead.

The following morning, she was able to gather all the information available to her. Cam’s family home had been built in the 1930s. It had a handful of owners before her parents bought the place. It had been rumored to have at one point been a haven for cultists. Why someone had thought it would be a good idea to call this house a haven to anyone was beyond her. This cult would do a lot of strange rituals, and people were rumored to have gone missing.

So, Marlowe must be one of these missing people. A ghost trapped here, pretending to be her imaginary friend. Cam had to build up the courage to confront them and get them out of this house. Stepping into the middle of the living room, the fireplace lit, and candles lining the mantel, she closed her eyes. Letting her hands fall to her sides, Cam let out a slow, even breath.

Cam’s heartbeat was the loudest sound in her ears until she spoke his name aloud.

 “Marlowe.”

The candles flickered on the verge of flickering out. Cam slowly opened her eyes, and a man stood before her. His clothes were stained in red, form flickering.

It was as if he was fighting to stay in the living room. Cam’s eyes met his, and Marlowe’s face contorted into a snarl. “Why have you summoned me here?” he growled out, beginning to pace. She furrowed her brow, watching his every move. “You’ve been haunting me! And you’re asking why I called out to you?” Marlowe shook his head, then looked around as if on edge.

“I haven’t been the one toying with you. It was them…” he rasped, flickering out.

What had he been protecting Cam from? Was something else here besides him?

The candles themselves also went out one by one. A childish giggle echoed in the entryway. The floorboards creaked one by one, heading towards Cam in the living room, who backed away. Cam’s ankles bumped into something behind her. There wasn’t any furniture in the living room, so what is it or who is it behind her?

She turned her head to look up at what was behind her. Towering over Cam was an entity, their face a patchwork mess. That consisted of different pieces of other women’s faces. The entity raised their hand, placing it onto Cam’s face. A too-wide smile spread across the entity’s misshapen lips.

Cam wouldn’t be making it out of this house alive.