(Anther story I wrote recently. And by recently I mean I literally submitted this to my teacher almost an hour ago lol. Beware that this may have things which may trigger stuff for readers such as mental illness, suicidal thoughts, etc.)

One of my earliest memories starts with me all alone. It was w a hot summer day, with the bright sun radiating its warm heat, the sky clear and blue; it was the perfect day to go to the park and have fun. Which I wished actually happened. While all the other children were noisily playing, their loud shouts of excitement filling the air, I was sitting by myself on the swings. Most of the paint had already peeled off and it made an unpleasant creak every time I moved, I wasn't quite sure if it was even safe to sit on them but 5-year old me didn't care. All I cared about was how I was sitting by myself with no-one to accompany me, wasting my day away with each passing second.

This feeling wasn't new to me, loneliness and isolation was something I lived with everyday, yet I couldn't get rid of the lingering itch that begged and pleaded and clawed into my skin for someone, anyone, to save me from this solitude. Hours went by, people came and left, busy with their daily tasks, not one of them stopping to sit on the empty swing next to me. Just as the sun was setting down, a mix of orange and red filling the evening sky, I decided had to go home before it go too dark.

The park was empty by then. Or so I thought. As I slowly got up, the swing making a creaking sound in the process, I saw a girl with a purple bow, tied to the back of her short, blonde hair. This girl was on the other side, sitting on the edge of the sandpit, some sand stuck on the back of her blue dress. Her knees were brought up to her chin, but I couldn't see her face.

She must be lonely too.

A nagging feeling within me told me to talk to her. I ignored this feeling, telling myself that she was probably waiting for her parents, other friends, anyone, any excuse which told me that I was making the correct decision. With one more glimpse of the girl, I walked back home, thinking I would never see her again.

Until I did see her.

After that event, I started to see the same girl with the purple bow more often. At first it was only on every so occasion, at parks, grocery stores, on my walks home. I assumed it was just coincidence, but the older I got, the more I began to see her in my everyday life. Whenever I felt alone, her presence was always there. She even went to my school, even though I had no prior knowledge that she did. Each time that I saw her, I felt like I needed to talk to her. I didn't know why I had this feeling, but I always ignored it, always made up the same excuse that she probably has other friends she'd much rather talk to.

---

I was in the girl's school bathroom, sitting in the corner next to the sink. The walls were filled with colourful graffiti, and the floors were covered with wet tissues no one had bothered to pick up. The light flickered every so often, but I couldn't care less about the quality of bathrooms in this school. My eyes were blurry as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I let my hair cascade down my face like the disgusting grimy mess it was, and buried my face into my knees. The only thing which could be heard was the sound of my sickening sobbing.

I soon heard footsteps, as they became louder and louder, coming closer to the entrance. I immediately got up. I went to the sink to wash my face, ridding of any evidence that I had been crying and put on a smile. When the person came in, I didn't dare look at them, scared that my cheery demeanor would fade. I continued to 'wash' my hands, keeping my head down. The person sauntered over to the tap next to me and began to wash her hands. Allowing my eyes to look at her from the side for a few seconds, I almost jumped at the recognition. The person who came into the bathroom was the same girl who had always appeared whenever I felt alone, the girl with purple bow, she was here.

This was the closest I'd ever been to her, my chance to finally talk to the mysterious girl who always showed whenever I needed someone the most. I readied my voice to say something, but she beat me to it.

"Are you okay?"

I didn't realise I was crying again. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket, "Y-yeah," I almost cursed aloud at my blunder. "Yeah, I'm fine, I.... I.." The words were at the tip of my tongue, but nothing came out.

Concern was etched on the girl's pale face, obviously even more worried.

"It's nothing," more tears began to fall, splattering to the floor.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

This was the first time someone actually cared about how I felt. Unfamiliar with this kind of situation, I gave a meek nod as we sat down back in the corner. I told her everything, venting all my emotions which I kept within for all my life. My parents, the other school children, those girls, and everything I had to go through. It felt good to let it out and have someone listen. After I finished, the bell rang, signally the end of lunch. We both stood up, I awkwardly stared down at my shoes, having my hair cover my face, suddenly embarrassed that I practically vomited my emotions.

"I'm Imogen by the way, and I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me all this."

I gave an awkward smile.

"We should talk more often. See ya, Delila."

I didn't question how she already knew my name. The only thoughts which filled my head were I made my first friend!

---

After that first meeting, Imogen and I grew closer. We started hanging out during break time in school, and even met each other outside of school to go to places like cafe's, shops and even amusement parks. I trusted her and told her everything, my feelings, opinions and desires. Imogen always had this blank expression whenever she was listening to me, she always remained silent, with no kind of judgement but with no kind consolation or support either. She was an amazing listener; no one else would even spare me the time of day. Although I didn't know much about Imogen, I already felt like she was the only person who understood me and knew how my mind worked.

---

I sprayed antiseptic onto my right arm; no matter how often I did this, it always stung. We were in my room. I could see Imogen in the large mirror I was facing, leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed over her chest. A frown on her face, not looking very impressed.

"I can't believe you let those girls get to you, again."

My eyes didn't meet her sea blue ones as I started to wrap a bandage around the same arm, covering the large purple bruise.

"You're so weak. Maybe if you were stronger you could finally stand up to them."

I looked downcast, scared to meet her gaze, letting my hair cover a part of my face. I felt a lump in the back of my throat as I wiped at my wet eyes, ready to burst at any second.

"Don't tell me you're crying again," she huffed, "you're such a crybaby."

Was this how she felt whenever I talked to her about my problems? Was this the kind of response she was always holding back from me? I looked down at the bruises on my arms, disgusted that I allowed this to happen.

Disappointing Imogen was something I did not want. I would make it up to her.

I would make her proud.

---

"Hello?"

...

"Oh you're still on your business trip?"

...

"I understand. Love you, bye."

I had years of practice with those automated phrases.

I hung up the phone and looked dejected at Imogen who was sitting next to me on my bed, playing a game on her phone.

"I-I..." my voice shaky and hesitant.

"Your parents aren't coming back yet?" She asked, turning off her phone and slipping it into the pocket of her coat, turning to face me, ocean eyes staring into my muddy ones.

"They're on a business trip," I was really saying this to reassure myself instead of her.

A small sound then escaped from her mouth, it almost sounded like... a chuckle?

"Why are you laughing...?" I had no idea what could be so funny, why was my best friend laughing at my problems?

"You do know why they're never home right?" Her voice, without its usual sweetness was now sounding harshing and judging. Her mouth was turned upward, forming a little smirk. "They've pulled that same excuse for years. They're sooo busy that they can't make a little time for their only daughter."

"They're busy..." I uttered, desperate to ignore the possibility that my parents would much rather spend their time working than than being with me.

"If they really loved you, then they would be here right now."

Her words echoed in my mind.

"You're worthless. They hate you because of how much of a big crybaby you are. Look you're even crying right now."

I briskly wiped at my wet eyes, but her words couldn't get out of my head. You're worthless. They hate you. You're weak. These phrases repeatedly rung like a chant.

The room was silent, Imogen was back to playing her game, tap tap tapping away on her phone as if nothing ever happened, and I was left to battle my thoughts all by myself.

---

You're worthless. You're weak. You're a loner. Everyone hates you. It'll all be better once you're gone.

These were the thoughts which ran through my head over the past few months. Imogen repeatedly told me these things, everyday, in the morning over the phone, during school whenever we were alone, after school on our walks home, before I went to sleep. Yet I still considered her my one and only best friend, because despite all my flaws, all my imperfections, she still stuck with me through thick and thin. I knew she was only saying those things for my benefit so I wasn't mad at her, I was grateful.

The thought of what it would be like if I didn't exist anymore dawned on my mind as days went by, the prying of Imogen's words were the only things I thought about. I tried to ignore the dark thoughts but it became harder and harder to push them aside, until one day I finally broke.

It was the end to another draining day of school, everything seemed darker than usual. Trees bare, empty without the vibrant colour of green leaves, the sky took on a gloomy hue of grey. The air was cold. I retrieved further into the warmth of my jacket, putting my hands into my pocket as Imogen and I were walking to my house once again.

We were silent as we strolled along the sidewalk, going past a large blue lake. Then with the corner of my eye, I saw those girls across the road. I heard their loud chatter and gossip. Mortified, I began to speed up Imogen right behind me.

"Oh hey, it's Delia!" One of them called out, bringing their attention towards me. They looked straight past Imogen as if she wasn't even there, their target was me. They drew closer towards me crossing the road, evil grins growing wider by the second. I backed away, getting nearer towards the lake with each step I took.

"Oh looks it's Delia the Dimwit."

"All by herself."

"You're such a loner."

This was my chance to show Imogen I wasn't weak, that their ridiculing no longer had an affect on me.

"I do have a f-friend," I stuttered, "her name is Imogen," I looked directly at her, she stared back with an emotionless face.

The girls only giggled. "You're lying, as if anyone would want to be your friend." They walked closer to me as I retreated backwards.

"I do! She has blonde hair and a purple ribbon tied at the back," I was determined to win this and show them that I wasn't a loner anymore.

Their giggles turned into full-blown laughter once I said this. I was flabbergasted, could they not see that Imogen was right there? Were they so set on ruining my life that they couldn't see the other person standing right behind them?

"Don't tell me you're so pathetic that you would create an imaginary friend," one said through her gasps of laughter.

I didn't understand. Imogen was real. What were they talking about?

"If you're so stupid enough to come up with an imaginary friend, then you don't deserve to live."

They all pushed me into the lake. I stumbled backwards into the freezing water which immediately drenched me from head to toe. The girls cackled as they sashayed away leaving me in my mess. Imogen came upon me standing at the edge of the lake looking down at me, I saw no kind of remorse on her face, instead she looked annoyed. I reached my hand out to her hoping she would help me up but instead I was met with a remark, "I can't believe you let that happen. Those girls are right. You can fix everything if you ended it right now."

Stunned, I took in her words. They didn't seem too far-fetched anymore, they gave me.... Relief? Groggily getting up, I shivered as my teeth chattered from the chill. Mind made up, Imogen and I walked home.

---

We were on the balcony of my house.

It was 20 metres high.

I looked down at the ground below us. Hard concrete.

"Do it. You know you want to." Imogen's voice echoed from behind me.

I took a step forward.

The weight of what I was about to do pummelled into me.

"No one loves you. But it'll all be okay once you end it."

Another step. Less hesitant.

I climbed on top of the black fence, the only thing separating me from the inevitable, standing on top of it. I tried to balance despite it being pointless.

"Go on."

Was I really about to do this?

I looked down again, fear arising.

Everything in my mind was telling me to do this, but a small, tiny part, doesn't want to give up. Looking back one last time, Imogen was still standing, waiting for me to do what I came to do. This was all for my benefit, right? I was doing the right thing, right? Imogen was real, right? A million questions sprinting through my head.

Imogen came closer, "what are you waiting for?"

"Were you real? Were you ever real?" I questioned, desperate to know I wasn't delusional.

I was met with silence.

"Did I just make you up to make me feel better?"

Silence.

"Were you just my imagination?"

...

"I really am pathetic."

Hair blowing in the wind, eyes closed, I took my last step forward.

There was no 'life flashing before me', no bittersweet nostalgia, just nothing. No one.

I truly was alone.