My name is Celia Schwartz, I am 16 years old, about to turn 17, and I attend highschool at Emerdale High. I live in Canada, the land of maple syrup and moose, and I've lived here my entire life. I have an interest in writing and am a member of the writing club at my school. I'm an academic student and usually at the top of my class. Now that my introduction is out of the way, I can get into the main point of this.

I was never fond of friends. To me, they only seemed like people that you would meet and sort of like and then have them complain to you all the time, have them talk badly about you behind your back, and come to your house to eat your food and waste your air conditioning. I've only read and heard about bad experiences like these with friends, and was too afraid and too shy to make friends for myself. I've seen friends that look like they're going to be the best of friends and will be together forever end up turning on each other and being mean to one another. Usually the reason for this is because of a guy, or another girl, or maybe to get more attention and praise than the other person. All of these things just made it seem like having friends could only be a bad thing, so for the first seven years of my life, I didn't have any friends, let alone a best friend. Everyone else around me all hung out and talked with each other and all had friends. In elementary school, everybody thought that I was just stuck up and only focused on my grades, so they would all stay away from me and sometimes I would become subject to their bullying. This went on forever..that is, until I met Jack. 

Jack was a very amazing kid. He was amazingly creative, funny, and really smart for his age. He had so many great qualities, but that wasn't what drew me to him. What really drew me to him was his kindness. I still remember the day we first met. It was during elementary school and during the recess hour. Every time at recess, we would go to the playground at our school and just play and take a break from our schooling. Everyone else was playing tag with one another and just being friendly while I was alone on the swings. I was just gently swinging on the swing, not even trying to go high or anything, when I felt a hand on my back, pushing me so that I would go higher. I didn't know who this strange person was because nobody ever did that before, so I freaked out. I started to kick my legs to stop, and ended up falling off the swing and right onto the sharp woodchips. Why did they even put woodchips in parks? They're not soft to land on, they're actually pretty painful to land on! 

As I was examining my legs for cuts and my eyes were getting teary, I heard footsteps running towards me, kicking up some woodchips from the ground. I sat on the ground, frozen stiff, not wanting to move. "Are you okay?!" A worried voice called out to me. It was a voice deeper than mine, but it wasn't that of an adult. It was probably a boy my age. I looked up, my eyes teary and I could tell I would start crying soon. I turned back, because I was slightly embarrassed. I didn't want this stranger to see me crying. Although I turned away from the person, he stuck out his hand to help me up. I looked back, two big tears streaming down my face. I made eye contact with the boy and noticed something really striking about him - his eyes. They were so beautifully blue, like a cobalt color. He also had longish black hair that was falling in his face and sort of blocking his eyes. It was a shame, I wanted to look at his eyes forever. "Are you okay..?" He asked again, wanting to make sure I really was fine.

I tried to gather the right words in my mind, but out of shock of what just happened and also the fact that I had never talked to someone my age, let alone a boy, I just came up with incoherent mumbling and stutters. "I-I..um..yeah, I'm okay." I managed to say. I couldn't stop looking at his eyes. They were different than any other eyes I had ever seen. I only saw people's eyes as colors, but these eyes were different. Sure, they were a beautiful color, but they showed me something. They showed me that they were full of joy, determination, and kindness. I had never seen anything like them. They gave my eyes something to show - hope. Hope of maybe finally finding a friend. I gently raised my hand and took his, getting up from the ground. "Did you push me?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure that he did. He nodded, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah, figured you needed help to get higher on the swing. Didn't know it would freak you out. Sorry about that." He apologized. I smiled back at him. "It's okay..I'm Celia, nice to meet you!" I smiled a toothy grin. He smiled back. "Jack. Jack Parker. Nice to meet you!" He stuck out his hand for me to shake. I shook it, heartily.

I never knew that that day would be the day I met my best friend. Now, we're both 16, about to turn 17, and I got to tell you, it's so different than what I perceived it would be. Sure, he does eat my food and share my air conditioning, but he has never gone behind my back, talked bad about me, or anything like that. We haven't had an argument in the 9 years we've been friends, and he's absolutely amazing. He's really witty, sarcastic, and funny. He's really smart academically even though he doesn't like to admit it, only because he hates to study. And he's also really supportive of and helpful with me and my hobbies, especially my writing. He's the best friend I could ever ask for and I'm so lucky to have him. Yes, I know I'm ranting a lot about him and his good qualities, but that's because I need to prepare you for what I'm about to say next. The reason I build him up and praise him so much is because..well..even though he's great and all, he's sort of..

He's imaginary.