Boa

Boa was an imaginary friend I had when I was a kid. I don't remember much about him, but what I do remember happen to be very fond memories of him. His lips were very dark - almost black - and his teeth were a disgusting yellow, as if they'd never been brushed. His feet were absolutely putrid, especially his toenails; they were yellow from fungus. He had talons instead of fingernails; they were very dark at the tips and got progressively lighter. He had a lot of scars; they were very noticeable and stood out from his pale skin. I can remember staring at them a lot. They had a red tinge to them. The biggest scar was on his arm (if I remember correctly, it was his right arm). It was HUGE and stretched all the way from his shoulder to his elbow, as if his arm had been sliced in two length-ways at some oint. It bulged out from his skin like you'd see if someone didn't take proper care of a wound and it healed incorrectly. The other scar was above his left eye. For the most part, it was covered by hair, but you could see a glimpse of it; it went diagonally towards his left ear. It stopped just short of his eye. Anyway, I had a two-hour conversation about Boa with my mom this morning and wrote down some things that I found interesting or didn't remember. This was the first time in a while that I've asked about Boa and I was surprised at how much my mom remembered. Her first response after my asking was, "Those were terrible times." It took some coaxing, but she eventually started revealing more and more as the conversation progressed. I was about five or six when Boa first came around. My mom said tht before I started playing with Boa, I kept asking, "Why does the man keep following us," and continued doing this for some time before I finally introduced the man as Boa. She felt that my cute childhood personality changed almost immediately after that; I began cursing like a sailor and having vicious temperament issues (throwing objects, yelling/screaming, spitting at, and biting, apparently). I really don't remember any of this. The strangest part, she said, was that I began injuring myself. I would take knives and scissors and cut into my arms and legs. That was part of the reason I had to be checked out by doctors. They explained it as attention-seeking behavior and my parents were instructed not to give in to certain things but to only reward my good behavior and to ignore my bad behavior. Shortly after that was the couch being sliced to bits and gutted. My mother seemed very baffled on the phone about how everything happened. For the most part, my parents blamed the odd occurrences in our house as a little kid starved for attention. My dad is a very scientific man who is not religious at all, while my mom does indulge in the possibility that some things simply can't be explained. At one point, she wanted to get me and the house blessed, truly believing that a single child couldn't do all the things that were happening. I vaguely remember them arguing a fair amount, but again, my memory isn't the best when it comes to my childhood. My mom said that they were very closed to getting divorced at that time; it was nearly more than they could handle. As far as "Boa stories" go, my mom had three very distinct memories that involved Boa. One time, she came to check on me in my room and could hear me clearly talking to someone and a muffled sound that always followed. She opened the door to see me mutilating my toys and she, horrified, told me to stop and go downstairs. At that point, I turned my head towards her and demanded she shut the door. She told me no, and to come downstairs. I screamed, "Shut the god damn door." Cue the front door slamming. She said that scared the piss out of her. The second Boa story was about the cat. My mom decided that she would start to embrace Boa and began to indulge me that he was there. She'd open doors for him and would pull up an extra seat for him. She even started setting a place at the dinner table for my imaginary friend. She said I would always laugh and say very demeaning things when she did nice things for Boa. My mom remembers inviting Boa to join us for dinner one night and I was shrugging, looking at the corner and asking Boa if he'd like to come eat with us. I suddenly stood in silence, as if listening to a response, cringed, asking, "Gross, do they even taste good?" I then looked at my mom and very nonchalantly said, "No, mom, Boa only eats cats." It was her cat that she found outside, mauled to death. She said it looked as if he'd been sliced to bits with a knife and had been gutted. At that point she thought that Boa was the Devil or I was in the process of becoming a serial killer. My personal favorite, and the last my mom had, of the three stories, was one day when my mom driving me home from day care. I had gotten kicked out for using my play scissors to cut a little girl's hair nearly completely off (her parents ended up having to buzz her head) then biting the shit out of her. I got in the car and was all smiles and songs as my mom berated me up and down. She asked if I had something to say for myself and I replied, "Yeah, I'd like some mother fucking ice cream." My mom, very pissed, said there was no way in Hell I was getting ice cream. I then started talking to Boa and laughing hysterically before I began saying, "Poppity pop pop, Mom. Poppity pop pop," louder and louder each time. She asked what that meant and I responded, "Boa says you're a bitch and he's going to pop your tires." Not five minutes later, we were on the side of the road with two flat tires and had to wait for a tow truck to come get us. About a week ago, I made a post in regards to a childhood imaginary friend I had named Boa. Since then, things have gotten...weird. I started to have these dreams...no...no, you wouldn't call them dreams, really...whatever they were, they were about Boa. They get more vivid each time I have one. I started to remember things from when I was a kid. Things I suppose I repressed. I had asked my parents to retell stories of Boa in hopes that they would bring up funny memories and laughs. They seem to hate that I remember. They've started to argue again, worse than I've seen in some time. I thought if I just stopped and tried to forget, t would all go away...but it's not. I'm starting to get the feeling that Boa wasn't an imaginary friend...I'm just not sure where to go from here. (The following are two question and answer responses from anon to OP.)

"Figure out what made him leave. It may be a clue. Was it that you stopped talking to/about him?"

I was trying to figure this out the other night while on the phone with my mom (who's become extremely reluctant to "indulge" me anymore). I remember being told that Boa was forbidden. I know I kept talking to him in secret for some time after but this just made Boa increasingly angry. Things in my house got really bad with arguments and yelling. I can remember having a really tearful talk with Boa, telling him he wasn't allowed back anymore. Boa wasn't pleased and made threats. I can remember the conversation and having this intense pain, like someone suckerpunched me in the gut. After that, nothing. I have quite a few holes in my childhood memories. The ones that involve Boa seem to be the hardest to recall. "Boa just seem demonic to me. Call it a gut feeling. You have any more specific details you can give about him? Things he said? Did he talk you into that strange behavior or did you just naturally start doing it while he was around? Sorry if you've already answered those questions. I wasn't around for the first Boa thread."

Boa would egg me on a lot and I tended to mimic what he said. Say my mom wouldn't give me something. He'd tell me what to do to get it: scream, yell, throw yourself on the floor, grab the chair and throw it towards her but not hidding her - those types of things. Then, when she'd give in, he'd always smile and say something along the lines of, "Stupid bitch," and I'd usually laugh and repeat, "Yeah, stupid bitck." I'm not sure what you'd like to know when you say, "more details," though. As far as saying that Boa was demonic...well, it just breaks my heart. Boa could be very terrifying at times, with his stories and actions, but I have many fond memories of him. He was my best friend. I can remember being picked on and coming home in tears, hiding under my bed from everything. Boa would crawl under and tell me that "little cuntpickle isn't worth your tears," and how he'd grow up poor and alone while I'd be a prince. He'd wipe my tears and we'd play in the backyard.