Double Homicide is Children's Play

When I was little I really wanted an imaginary friend. Just think, a friend that only you could see: one that would always be there to play with you and always wanted to play the games you wanted to play. I’m fairly certain that they also double as minions if needed. All I had to do was think one up. I’m pretty sure most kids imagine someone very similar to themselves. Well, I decided in my 6 year old wisdom that it’d be much more enjoyable if my imaginary friend were a horse instead of a clone. We were going to do everything together. As you could well imagine, these coming years with my new friend were going to be fantastic, magic filled adventures. …Or so I thought. It turns out that imaginary friends are actually a lot of work. Contrary to my apparent belief, they DO NOT develop personalities of their own, nor do they become visible over time. In fact, they don’t do anything without you imagining them doing it. There was no room for improvisation here! I was heart broken. Let me give you a better idea of why.

This is what I thought imaginary friends would be like:

This is what it was ACTUALLY like:

Yeah, there’s no fun, candy OR tap dancing going on there. It was like something was missing…

I was beginning to realize that imaginary friends weren’t all that TV cracked them up to be. For the next couple of days I held on to the hope that over time things would improve.

They didn’t.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. The problem was, I couldn’t just stop imagining him. My poor underdeveloped mind couldn’t comprehend the concept of “ceasing to exit”. No, I was going to have to kill him. I had to get creative too. I didn’t want him to feel betrayed. It was going to have to look like an accident.

After much planning, it was decided that I would tell him to play in the street. Everyone (but horses) knows that if you play in the street, you’ll get hit by a car and die. It was the perfect plan. I played in the backyard while I waited for the deed to be done.

With my imaginary friend out of the way life could return to normal. Except, normal didn’t last too long. A couple months later I felt like I should try the imaginary friend thing out again. I had experience this time and I knew what I was getting myself into. I would be going in prepared. I even decided to make imagining him a little bit easier by giving him the body of my favorite stuffed animal. If my memory serves me correctly, he looked like this (giant, goofy plastic eyes and all).

Long story aside, I grew tired of this one even more quickly than the first and so I used the bridle he came with to tie him to a sapling just inside the woods surrounding our home. I left him there for many days, checking his progress now and then to see if he had starved to death yet.

 

Moral of the story here? Imaginary friends suck.

I never really noticed how incredibly morbid that tale was until right now. I feel as though I should leave this off on a better note.

Speaking of horses, here’s a bad pun!