I developed this imaginary friend soon

I’ve always been fascinated by the paranormal. It has been a lifelong interest of mine. However, I haven’t had many personal experiences with the supernatural… except for one.

When I was about five years old, I lived in a small house with my parents before my younger sibling was born. I’m now 26, and most of my childhood memories have faded, like trying to tune an old TV. But one thing I remember clearly from living in that house is that I had an imaginary friend.

My imaginary friend was a boy, although I don’t remember his name. I used to spend hours locked in my room, playing and talking to him. But that’s all I recall about him.

Years later, after we moved out of that house and I was older, my parents shared a story with me that still haunts me.

They knew about my imaginary friend. It was all I talked about. I developed this imaginary friend soon after we moved into that house. According to my parents, I started doing strange things that I hadn’t done before. I would have accidents on the floor like a dog. I would lock my pets in a trunk outside my room. My attitude towards my mom got worse. When they asked me why I was acting this way, I would blame it on my cousin, who had never visited us.

My mom particularly hated my room. She always felt like something was watching her when she was in there alone.

One day, things got really strange. My dad, who worked night shifts, came home wanting to sleep. He walked past my room, which was closed, and went into his. My dad could hear me playing with what sounded like another child. He heard two voices. He thought I might be talking to myself in different tones, but he swore he heard our voices overlap, as if there were two children playing.

He called my mom to check on me and the “neighbor boy.” My mom insisted she didn’t hear anyone else and that I was alone. Sure enough, when they checked, it was just me.

We moved out of that house sometime later, and my parents said I stopped talking about my imaginary friend as soon as we left. I can’t say for sure if it was a ghost. I only remember playing with this friend, never hearing or seeing him. But to my parents, it was something more than just a child’s imagination.

To top it off, a few years later, a friend of my dad’s moved into the same house with his kids. They knew nothing of our experience. Imagine my parents’ surprise when they learned that his friend’s daughter, who took my old room, also had an imaginary friend soon after moving in. She had this friend until they moved out as well.

This story is one of my most prized possessions. When the topic of ghosts comes up, it’s the one I share. It’s eerie and unsettling, but absolutely true.

Every time I pass by that house, I find myself looking up at the window of my old room, wondering if my imaginary friend still remembers me.