Imaginary

He was like I remembered, albeit a bit older – he still smoked his long, dark-brown pipe, though this one was Oak, and his eyes held a blue-grey twinkle. His skin was tanned and his hands were rough, and he had a few more wrinkles than he used to. I smiled at him, moving my hand in a wave. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" My voice was softer than usual; I didn't need to be loud.

The grey-haired man returned my smile with a brilliant one of his own, "It has. The last time I saw you…" He moved his hand to his waist, "you were this tall! You're a young lady now…" His voice was a bit regretful, and tinted with a tiny bit of longing. I took a step over to get a better look at him – My head was up to his lips now.

"I guess I've changed a bit…" I murmured, scratching at my cheeks – they were red and itchy from tears.  I'd never been able to hide it, crying; it was as clear as water. He looked a little concerned, and I swallowed. I felt uncomfortable talking to him, even though…he was a person I could trust, and you'd have to believe me when I said that I didn't trust many people anymore. "Lots of things have…"

"You've been crying." He sounded accusing, and I bit back another sob, reminding myself that life was hard and I had to get over it. "Why? You used to get over it quickly and smile again, but lately…you seem to be crying a lot more." I looked down at my bare feet, and he placed a hand on my shoulder, his gaze a mixture between sympathetic and overwhelming. It was hard to think that he was displeased with me, but then again, I was displeased with me too.

"Yeah…just a little…" I muttered, and he gave me the look – he knew that I was lying through my teeth. "Alright, alright!" I sighed, sitting down in the purple cushions that lined my bed and resting my head on my hands. "I feel betrayed and alone and like I never, ever want to get close to anyone again. Remember when I would always get rejected by the other kids when I asked to play? Remember when I finally made a friend? I was so happy…so naïve…" I glanced up at him, and he moved to sit down beside of me, hand stroking my hair gently. "Life doesn't work that way…"

"Hey, you've got us," His voice was somewhat soothing, bringing back memories of him calming my tears when I was younger. "You've got all of this…" He waved his hand at the room, before glancing back at me. "Humans are an interesting species. They lie, and they steal, and they cheat, and they do all sorts of horrible things…but even despite that, they aren't the only ones. For all the bad things, they also love, and they believe, and they hope, and they dream. It's very bittersweet." He smiled sadly, "Do you remember my favorite poem, youngster?"

I had to think for a moment, "It was "Desiderata", wasn't it?" Fitting – only "Desiderata" would suit someone like him. He smiled for a moment, standing and walking to one of my bookshelves, his hand tapping the worn spine of my book of Grimm's fairytales – I'd almost forgotten that I had the poem in there. I sighed, walking over to pull it off, taking the torn sheet of paper out of the space between pages twenty-two and twenty-three – I'd never bothered to have it framed.

I sat down and unfolded the paper, and he smiled happily, looking over my shoulder. "With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy," He quoted the last few lines in a rather uplifting voice, and I rolled my eyes – how had I forgotten that poem? I'd heard it far too many times. "Do you know what that means?"

I remembered the answer, anyways. I muttered a somewhat dreary, "Even though the world's not perfect, it's still beautiful, and since you're alive, enjoy life." He clapped, pleased, and I forgot my disregard for a moment because it was nice to see him happy. His happiness always made me happy, at least when I was a little kid...Then again, as little kids went, I was sensitive. "I just want to be someone else right now…" I trailed off, afraid I'd said too much, because I caught his glare.

"Everyone's like that every once in a while, youngster," He patted me on the head, his glare fading back into his normal, nonchalant attitude, "Life hurts. It's hard…people are going to hurt you, but people are going to help you and love you as well. Young lady, you're giving me those puppy-dog eyes again…You've given up on being brave. It's hurt you, hasn't it?" I didn't reply, choosing to zip my lips. He leaned back against the bright-blue walls, exhaling. "Without taking risks, you're never going to be happy. You have to put yourself out there, let others see you…even if it hurts. To be quite frank, if you never try then you'll never know." He was right and I knew it.

"You sound like my mother…" I grumbled for a moment, not bad-temperedly. I'd managed to grow a shell over the past few years, and it just kept thickening…the shell was holding me down, and it was about time to shed my skin. "She says it's at least partially my age…teenagers are self-centered and insecure, and we deal with it in different ways, I think. I deal with it by hiding in myself, because I'm too scared to get hurt…does it hurt me more?" He shrugged.

"I think it depends on your point of view," He murmured, "If you don't let others in, then you'll be lonely, and being lonely is hard." I nodded, but he continued before I could respond, "Humankind is a self-centered and greedy race, youngster. She's right, you know…you've done bad things, they've done bad things, and everyone's done bad things. It's the way life works. Bad things only make more bad things happen, but it's not like there aren't good things to balance them out. The world's a depressing place – just turn on the news. You'll see shootings, floods, bombings, disasters, and all manners of absolutely horrible things, but occasionally you'll see something else. A light…I've said it before, but I'll say it until you believe it; all people aren't bad." He offered a grin, and I rolled my eyes.

"I know…I know…" I cocked my head at him. "Well, smarty, answer this – how do I know who to trust? Putting my faith in the wrong people is what gave me these trust issues in the first place." He looked me over from head to toe, before tapping my chest with a hand, pointing to my heart. A tiny pinch of bittersweet emotions flickered across his face, and he spoke again.

"You don't. People have their secrets; some of them can completely conceal what they're really like, just like you, young lady." I flinched visibly, and he took my chin in his hand, turning my face to look at him. "Listen to your heart. If you can really trust someone…or if you can't…it's going to let you know eventually. You need to work on that multiple-faces issue as well – you called it your "glass mask," did you not?" I shuddered at the mention of it, because it reminded me that I didn't even know who I was.

"Yes." My voice dropped to a hoarse whisper for a moment, before I managed to regain my strength. "The mask; it's what I put up around people. I'm afraid that they won't like me if they know who I really am – its better this way, right? With it up, I can get along with everyone...Maybe it's the real me, by now." I managed a crooked and disfigured smile, but he simply shook his head, crushing any hopes I had of getting off easy.

"No. You're just lying to yourself." He completely disregarded my explanation, "If you aren't even true to yourself, you'll never get anything that's not as glass as your mask. About it being your real self – give me a break! You are who you are, and that's just an illusion. Do you want to be that mask?" I shook my head before I even realized that I was moving, and cursed myself under my breath. "Then ease your way out of it. Be comfortable in your own skin. Love yourself for once, and disregard what you think that they're saying. You are you, and though I'm not going to say you're perfect, simply because no one is, but if they don't like the you that you are, then they have no right to have anything to do with you. You're a good person, youngster…Alright?"

I smiled, blinking back tears; I did love the person I was. I was just scared that I was the only person who was. "Alright…" I felt constricted for a moment, like I was about to start crying again – he patted my shoulder, another reassuring smile crossing his face. "Are you…leaving again?" I couldn't stop myself from sounding scared, even though I knew that he wasn't really leaving – he'd been here all along, after all.

"For a while," His voice was soft, "You just needed to reassure yourself, after all. I'm not the company that I was before, but if you ever need me, you know where to find me. I'm proud of us, young lady, and deep down, I know you are too." I bit my lip, nodding, and he was gone, just like that. It was like he'd never been there, but then again, he never had. He was just an imaginary friend, something lurking inside of me…

I smiled, standing up and smoothing down my hair. I traced my hand across the tears in "Desiderata," folding it up and putting it back in its book – I did believe in myself, but I'd been ignoring my own motivational speeches; I just needed to hear them out of someone else's lips.

I strode out of my room and down the stairs, two at a time. Dinner was probably ready, after all.