The Hidden Truth
- Egan, Patricia
- Jun 24, 2017
- 4 min read
Hi, my name is Amber Webber. I am 11 years old. I have a secret that no one knows. Its my own hidden truth; that I disguise as make-believe. But before I get into that let me tell you a little about me and how I ended up where I am now.
My family moves around a lot and with each new move means making new friends. Making new friends is fine with me though, I can’t wait to meet new friends in our new neighborhoods. Real friends, friends that I can play my games of make-believe with. I mean sure I have siblings who are fun, but my siblings get tired of my games after awhile. So, I am better off with new friends. Kids that wouldn't believe my make-believe games and just play along until they too get bored. Friends that don’t know who I am, what I can do, ones that will never find out that through my eyes all these make-believe games I play are real, that I really see what they pretend to see. In a world full of different, it is easy to hide who you are.
So, here I am. The third new house in two years. A wild imagination (according to others) and the new girl in town that tells people the truth, but no one ever believes it. Here is my story. The truth of what I can do and see. You just need to decided: do I have a wild imagination or am I really telling the truth? It’s up to you.
As far back as I can remember I have been able to communicate with the spirits that roam around me, around all of us. To say the least, I grew up with many imaginary friends which were all children. Always around the age I was at the time they found me, because of that they were never scary to me. With ever year that passed, the Spirit’s ages followed suit. It is hard to keep track of every spirit I make friends with but I manage for the most part, because even if they have already passed away, they do not need to be forgotten. They need to be remembered. All my imaginary friends, through my eyes, were like any other living child I met: playful, shy, but none of them were ever mean or scary.
Let me say one thing though, because I have a feeling that at least one of you are picturing me in your head as you read this. I am not one of those kids that sit in the corner talking to themselves or gets caught playing Miss Mary Mack in the middle of the room by myself. I understand others don’t believe me and I keep my hidden truths pretty well hidden. Thanks. Now back to the story.
...Every birthday that passed one or two of my imaginary friends would just disappear and I would never see them again. But in their place always came another. This went on for years. One imaginary child after the next, I was never alone. I also never forgot any of them. I write their stories down, I am their voice from beyond the grave. Once I turned nine years old everything changed though. My playful, shy imaginary friends started becoming children that needed help. Children with stories to tell and I was the only one that could listen, the only one that could help them. I learned a lot about the world during that year and the next. Some of what I learned I wish I never knew. But if not me then who? I had to grow-up a little faster then most kids my age. Growing-up was a privileged that people take for granted, I learned this early. With every child that came into my life, I understood their childhood was taken away from them. I still have mine. My childhood may not be like others that are my age, but it is still a childhood, because I am still here to tell my own stories. I know I am different from other children that surround me, those that are living and those that are no longer living. I understand there is no escaping this life. But sometimes, I am not really sure if I would choose to leave it behind if I ever was given that chance. If these lost spirits of children couldn’t connect with me, then how would they ever tell their stories, how would they ever move on? I am happy to be the one that can help them all.
“As all living children do, they grow-up, they get older and learn more about the world around them. Imaginary friends disappear and in their place: Make-believe, Snooping, Clue, Jeopardy and Chance games are born. With the exception of a few children, but they will never tell you who they are.”
Check out the rest of the THE HIDDEN TRUTH here:
We hear about these cases all too often. Suicide Prevention Month is here and to help spread the word I wrote this short story. I have been to a child's funeral, one that could have been prevented. We as a society need to know the signs, understand the helplessness that children and adults alike can face daily. Be the one that stands up for the weak, be the one that starts a movement to help societies ways. Be the listener that some people need. I understand some use this "weakness" to gain attention, but it is those who are silent that truly need someones help. #SuicideAwareness your support, join a cause that allows you to help others and prevent cases like these...
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