The Imaginary Friend

This entry is part 4 of 17 in the series Issue XII: Spring 2013 Prose

By Ula Pietrzykowska


No! How many times do I need to tell you. It is 4.

Ernie looked at the floor seemingly regretting his failure but there was a smirk on his face he couldn’t fully hide.

Look. If you don’t get the homework right you won’t get out of the house to play with your friends. Understood?

Ernie smiled again. What does she know about freedom? He looks at his mom with a devilish look in his eyes.

Alright, go ahead.



You are hopeless. I will tell your dad to deal with you. Now go to your room and stay there until I call you for dinner.

Finally. I don’t really like playing with boys outside. My own mom and even she can’t get that. I am happy to be in my own room. I have a secret no one knows about. When I close my eyes and really really focus there is a little troll that comes to play with me. And he has all these wonderful toys and tricks that he does on snap of his fingers. I can ask him anything I want. Once I was angry at my mom so I told him to make her burn her hand while cooking dinner. I am glad I didn’t ask him to destroy her because sure enough right after I heard her scream. She brought us dinner with a bandage on her hand. See what I can do? Her fury is so pointless. She’s got nothing to hurt me with while I have my little friend. I don’t even get angry at her anymore. I just feel sorry for her tiny worries. 2+2…who cares and what does it matter? I have bigger issues to deal with. My friend troll is trying to convince me to destroy the world. I am considering. That could be fun.

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