Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-32009126-20170915002238

( this was deleted for reasons I'm not entirely sure of yet. If issues are found that could have caused it's deletion are found, I'd greatly appreciate them being mentioned. Thank you! )



“Eloise? Darling? It’s time for bed.”



“But mommy Angelica, I can’t go to sleep while they’re talking to me!”



My daughter is not well.



I eyed her with concern after she uttered those words, turning her head so she could face me fully, her bright, apple green eyes boring into me. It was so, so hard to say no to her. Her headstrong, extremely independent personality was already tough enough to deal with in general, but her adorable face was even harder to defy. Eloise had soft ringlets of ginger hair that cascaded down her shoulders, fair, soft skin and a smattering of freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks. The only thing that worried me was her imaginary friend.



They were simply called ‘they’, and Eloise adored them. Yet ‘they’ scared me to pieces due to some conversations I had overheard between her and them. Snippets of Eloise talking back, saying things like “I can’t hurt mommy Veronique. She wouldn't like that too much.” and “yes I know where the scissors are. I use them for crafts.. Why?” yet the one that scared me the most was one i heard after waking up in the ungodly hours of the night, unaware what had woken me up at the time. Eloise's room is next to mine and my girlfriends, and through the fairly thin walls I heard eloise speak.



<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Why would i use something so sharp on myself? That sounds like it would hurt.” I don’t know how many times i’ve played that over in my mind, pushing my already fairly high anxiety mind to its limits. My girlfriend, Veronique, insists I was dreaming and nobody spoke,  but what else could she have been saying? She disbelieves the next part even more.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I heard a laugh in reply to my child's statement. No, not a giggle from Eloise. Something else. Something dark, garbled and demonic. It sounded smothered.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I’ve prayed every night since then, too high-strung to even sleep a full night anymore. I keep listening for anything else, and i’ve even gone as far as taking Eloise to a therapist, and earning shrugs and pitied looks in return. I used to think so highly of doctors and therapists as I saw those regularly for general anxiety and a smattering of other things. But not being able to help a child? That is mad.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Eloise, please…” i tried once more, nearly begging the little girl at this point. She had turned around to talk to them, but was silent.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“...Do I have to do that?” my daughter whined, not turning to face me yet.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yes, you do.” I stooped down to her level, keeping my gaze trained on the back of her head and brushing a strand of auburn hair behind my ear while I awaited a response. She stood up without facing me still, and I rose as well.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“If you say so, mommy Angelica!” Eloise spun around suddenly to face me. A large, nearly grotesque looking grin on her face. I stook her hand and led her to her small bedroom, tucking her in tightly in the silky feeling sheets. I kissed her on the forehead and retreated out of the room, softly shutting the creaky door behind me and exhaling deeply. Please let there be no voices tonight.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Are you still hung up on that?” Veronique sighed heavily as I slunk into bed beside her, looking up from her phone and raising an eyebrow in my direction. I think she thinks I’m crazy for believing all this shit about an imaginary friend being evil. I just want my daughter to be safe. Is it too much to ask for my family to be safe? “Angelica?” she spoke again, placing her phone down and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“What?” I could hear the apprehension and concern in her voice when she’d said my name.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Have you,” she paused to take a breath in, tugging on a strand of her thick, curly hair as she continued the sentence, “ever considered going back into therapy? I know this whole Eloise situation has been hard on you-”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“No, no! I’m not taking myself back there. They did all the could for me, and nothing for her! Why on earth would I invest my time and money into people who can’t help me?” I cried, furrowing my brow and sitting up. All I could see in Veroniques eyes was pity. I don't need pity.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Alright, alright. It was just a suggestion. I think it would really help.” she murmured before removing her arm that was around me, rolling over and going to sleep. I lay down as well and stared at the ceiling until sleep eventually wrapped itself around me.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I woke up around 4 am to laughter from Eloise's room. God no, not again. I couldn't hear what they were saying this time, and that worried me immensely. I slipped out of bed and crept down the endless hall to her door, pressing my ear against it and hearing a titter of laughter. Garbled, wet sounding laughter. I slid the door open a crack and peered inside the room.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">My heart stopped.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Hovering over Eloise's bed was them. In all their terrifying glory. Something shiny and dark dripped down their back, running small rivers through it’s nearly visible spine. A grin wrapped around the back of its head with scissor like, rotting teeth. Ghostly white skin setting it apart from everything else.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I love you, them!” Eloise crowed, sounding joyful. That thing could kill my daughter. Oh, my god my daughter could die. I kept my eyes on it as i stooped down, grabbing a pair of safety scissors Eloise had left in the hall. My little one was notorious for leaving things in the hallway. I could barely keep a grip on them as my hands were so shaky.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I flung the door open, startling Eloise, but not them. Did they even notice I was there? As fast as I could, I drove the scissors over and over into them, Eloise screaming as i called out and cried. The creature had no reaction.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Not my daughter! Not my daughter! Not my daughter!” My screams must have woke, up Veronique, as she rushed into the room moments later, yelling as she did so.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Angelica! Angelica, stop!” she wrapped her arms around me from behind, pulling me to sit on the floor in a bearhug as i sobbed and threw the scissors at it, Eloise continuing to scream. Why had she stopped me? I was killing them! I was killing what could harm our daughter! Harm my daughter!

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The police showed moments later, banging on our apartment door.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“A neighbor called in a noise disturbance.. Please open up!” Veronique picked me up and hauled me to the door, tossing it open with a look of desperation in her eyes as i continued to thrash.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Help her, dear God, help her!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I was restrained ‘properly’ soon after that, the police looking around and going into Eloise’s room while I was kept and watched on the sofa, an officer taking Veroniques statement just far away enough I couldn’t hear. The police took me to the local hospital soon after they finished talking to her. She waved goodbye and kissed me quickly and softly while i held back sobs. What would become of Eloise while I was gone?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">They escorted me in and had a hushed conversation with the nurse, who then took us into the psychiatric ward to talk to someone. That someone turned out to be Dr. Nokkenbach. I knew him from when I went to therapy here. I did liked him. The officers handed him a paper which he scanned over, nodding and giving the officers a knowing look.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The police sat me down in his office and left us alone in silence.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Angelica, can you tell me what happened?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Eloise was being hurt.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Oh?’ Dr. Nokkenbach leaned back in his chair and noted something down in the clipboard he’d grabbed from his desk moments before, using a slick looking pen, “Eloise?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“My daughter. She’s not safe at home. Her imaginary friend, well, not so imaginary anymore.. They came to kill her.” my voice hitched in my throat as i spoke, tears welling in my eyes once more. My darling child couldn’t be dead. She will not be dead.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">''' '''

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“How old is she now? I recall you mentioning her from our old sessions.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“She just turned six years old. She’s growing up so fast…” I trailed off to stare out the window for a moment while the doctor fixed his glasses and sat up more, clearing his throat to catch my attention.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Angelica. Listen to me. Our last session was two years ago. I have the notes here,” he gestured briefly to his clipboard. “And she was six years old then, too. And you mentioned thinking the friend was real then, too. And you say nobody else acknowledges that Eloise is there?” I nodded.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“They act like she’s not even there.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“And that is odd, yes. Even your own girlfriend doesn’t notice her until you point her out or mention here. And I have an explanation. Which based on the police report an Veroniques’ statement, is the only possible answer.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“What is it?” I leaned forwards in my chair, eyes wide.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Eloise is your imaginary friend. Not your daughter. You’re suffering from emerging schizophrenia, Angelica. Your anxiety, how defensive you get, how frenzied you get..”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#f3f3f3;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Eloise isn’t real.” <ac_metadata title="Eloise"> </ac_metadata>