Planning:

​ 24. You finally meet your child’s imaginary friend. Who turns out to
be a serial killer.

Setting: Child comes home from school - running to embrace his mom -

Names:
Child: Timmy
Mom: Ella

Perspective: Mom’s perspective

Things to mention: Hospital records (do this at the beginning, don’t mention their mental
hospitals tho)

Opening - Child telling the mom about the imaginary friend

Exposition - Child tells stories - starts off innocent and fine

Rising Action - Random incidents start to happen + child’s stories become more graphic. Mom
gets slightly unnerved, but not enough for her to really be concerned.

Climax - Found an animal gutted at the front door - Mom’s really concerned -> her child’s stories
in the back of her mind

Turning Point - Mom in denial - safeguarding - after a while, she realizes that there is a
connection between the actions and her child

Falling action - Trigger for the mom to realize that the child is doing the actions

Resolution - The serial killer is the child (Dissociative disorder)

Story:
“Mom!!!”, my son, Timmy yelled, as he ran to embrace me from the bus stop.

“How was your day today? Did you make any new friends?” I asked.
Today was Timmy’s first day of third grade. Due to medical concerns, I had to homeschool
Timmy for the past few years. This is his first time being in an actual school, and in an
environment that is new and unfamiliar.

“Yeah! My day was awesome! We drew a picture of our family today!” Timmy said excitedly as
he skipped inside.
“Here! I’ll show you!” Timmy opened his backpack and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
“This is you and this is me!” He pointed to them. The characters were misshaped and scribbled
in black crayon, yet the drawing inexplicably made me feel proud.

Noticing another character, I asked, “Who’s this?”. The other character was drawn in red,
making it stand out from the other two figures.

To this, the child beamed and said “That’s my new friend, Liam! In fact, he’s right next to me!”
Timmy paused, as if listening intently. Then he smiled. “He says hi!”

“Oh?” I said, as my gaze drifted over to the empty space next to him. There was nothing.

This must be an imaginary friend. I thought to myself, A lot of kids his age have imaginary
friends.

---

“Mom, Liam and I played tag! I got him so many times!”

“Mom, Liam and I got my math homework back! I scored higher than him by 2 points!

“Wow, that’s great!” I said, absentminded.

Everyday, the sounds of my son recounting his adventures with Liam would fill our house. I
started to wonder if Timmy had any real friends.

“Timmy, darling, do you play with other kids?” I said slowly, hoping for him not to take any
offense.

With his head tilted, Timmy said “Huh? I have Liam, why would I need to play with anyone
else?”

Ah. Could the reason Timmy formed an imaginary friend be because he was lonely? This won’t
do. Maybe I was feeling stressed and annoyed from constantly hearing stories about Liam,
maybe I was feeling concerned for the social life of my child, so I blurted out, “Maybe you should
play with people other than Liam so you won’t feel lonely? Liam isn’t even real! Someday in the
real world, you’ll have to depend on real people, people that aren’t a figment of your
imagination!”
Right after saying that, I regretted it. Why was I scolding my eight year son for something this
insignificant? He would grow out of it, just like any other kid. I wanted to take my words back,
but it was too late. The impact of my words have already sunk in.

Tears welled in Timmy’s eyes, “You’re just jealous that you don’t have any friends! Liam is
enough for me, why don’t you understand! He’s not imaginary, he’s not!”

“Timmy, I-”

“Stop it!” Timmy yelled as he ran off to his room. The door slam echoed through the house.

--

After that day, Timmy started to interact with his classmates. He made many real friends, but he
still tells me stories about him and Liam. The distance between us seemed to have lengthened
since our argument, and I almost regretted sending him to a public school, as we were closer in
the past.

I sighed, as an open door revealed the sight of Timmy’s medical report on the kitchen table.
Strange. I could have sworn I put that into the cabinet. As I walked towards the paper, I noticed
there seemed to be something on it. There were splatters of red on it. I yelped, thinking that it
was blood, and started to panic.

“Timmy! Come down!” I yelled to my son.

As he walked down from the stairs, I asked, “Is this your blood?”

Timmy looked confused. “Blood? Isn’t that ketchup?”

Upon hearing his words, I inspected the splatter. Indeed, it seems to be just ketchup. I sighed,
relieved that it wasn’t something serious. However, this wasn’t the only strange incident.

--

“Mom! There are noises near my window!”

“Mom! My report card is ripped!”

“Mom! The vase broke!”

These incidents kept increasing and becoming more serious. I started to feel unsettled. I tried to
brush it off, until that appeared at our front door.
--

I heard knocking on the door. Timmy was playing outside, so I figured that it was him asking to
come inside. However, when I opened the door, I was not met with the sight of my son. Instead,
it was a stray cat, laying dead and gutted. Its organs were pulled out, and left neatly in another
pile. I froze in shock for a few moments. Then, I remembered about my son. “Timmy! Come
here!” I screamed.

Timmy, looking scared, ran around the corner.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” Timmy said, tilting his head. Timmy glanced at the cat, before asking
curiously, “Is it dead? Why does it look so weird?”

I didn’t respond. “Did you see anyone in our backyard?” I asked urgently.

“No… Only Liam and I were here! We’re playing catch! Do you want to join us?” my son said
excitedly.

Sirens blared in my head, as I thought about all of the incidents that happened recently. They all
correlated, and deep down, I knew the answer. However, as his mother, I could not accept the
truth.

“Timmy, we have a doctor appointment scheduled for today. Say bye to Liam, okay?” I said,
getting my car keys.

“Can Liam come with us? I don’t want to be in the scary doctors office alone.” Timmy said, eyes
wide and pleading.

“... Fine” I agreed reluctantly.

--

The clinic was not in a good state. Maybe it flourished once, but now it was just a run down
building. There were only two doctors at the clinic, and it so happens that one of them was
absent today.

After arriving at the clinic, the doctor took Timmy to another room. I waited anxiously for the
results. The clinic light flickered dimly.

Hours passed, yet my son and the doctor still did not come out of the room.

Getting increasingly unsettled, I walked around.

“Mr. Bob? Are you guys done?” I spoke loudly.

“Mom! Me and Mr. Bob just finished!” My son ran out of the room and hugged me. Timmy was
wearing a medical suit rather than his normal clothes.

Something felt wrong, but I waved it off. Perhaps it was Timmy’s cheerful manner in contrast
with the run-down clinic, or the unusually long wait time.

“You took quite a long time! Where’s Mr. Bob?”

I was about to enter the room to speak to Mr. Bob when Timmy stopped me.

“Mom… Mr. Bob left with Liam! Liam told me that Mr. Bob wanted to tell you to never come back
here again!”

I froze, looking at my son. That’s when I noticed it. A small blood splatter near his ear.