Dream Worlds Are Born



I’m not the most emotionally stable man by any means. I was raised by my father who was a distant, short tempered man. I didn’t grow up with any family around and I wasn’t allowed friends over. I didn’t even have friends outside the house because I was homeschooled and didn’t know what a computer was until I moved out. Truly ninety nine percent of my life was spent on my fathers property before I turned eighteen. Not only that but the only thing my father would ever tell me about my mother was that she abandoned us shortly after I was born. Knowing what I know now, I doubt she left. I hired a private investigator to find her, spent more money than I care to admit and there’s no record of her after her supposed run away from her responsibilities as a mother. I suppose I should explain why I don’t believe she went anywhere of her own free will.

You see I had an imaginary friend growing up. I had always thought I made her up out of a deep desire to have a connection with anybody. I only ever saw her in the attic and when I asked why she couldn’t come play with me she said this was her home. Truly I more talked at her rather than have any real conversation. I’m not sure she had much language skills though sometimes she’d try to talk to me a little. I never questioned anything about her existence after the day I brought her up to my father.

He was the one who told me she was an imaginary friend. Being naive and sheltered with nobody to ask but my dad I believed him. She meant a lot to me and she seemed happy to see me when I climbed up those stairs…oh how I wish I had known she was real…how I wished I’d helped her. Even when I was out of the house it was common among people that children had imaginary friends. When I was twenty eight my fathers house burned down with him inside. He slept through the fire and thats when it was discovered, the woman in the attic. The real…once living woman.

Turns out she had been abducted when she was only three years old which would account for the poor language skills. They didn’t know if my father had her the entire time but he had at least had her since I was eight. I hadn’t had any interest in the attic before then. I of course didn’t know her age but she looked like a girl in her early teens, maybe thirteen or fourteen. The police confirmed what I thought. She was only five years older than I was, or would of been had she still been living today.

I can barely look at myself which I’ve been seeing a psychiatrist about. They’ve told me countless times it isn’t my fault but after I left, how could I have continued to be such a moron, how could I have left her there to suffer alone with him. They have me on a few different kinds of pills which I thought were actually helping, if even a little but her ghost came to me about a month ago.

She still can’t talk much. I’d say she has the speaking skills of a five year old at best. I wanted to ignore her, feeling I was going crazy but I had wronged her once…a few days after her arrival at my home I could ignore her no longer. How could I betray her a second time? It’s nice having her around, honestly I’m so fucked up from being so isolated and having the kind of father I did I can’t keep any friends. I don’t want her to leave but when I saw a news report about a woman named Abigail Holfoldings who helped a police investigation through talking to spirits I decided I wouldn’t fall into the trap I was imagining her again, no, I needed to talk to this woman and maybe actually help Viola this time.


I wasn’t sure how to approach Mrs. Holfolding, how to ask for her help. I wasn’t good at interacting with people, but I needed to try. I had sent her a message on Facebook and hoped I didn’t sound insane. I knew she dealt with ghosts on a daily basis, but I was a whole other deal. I jumped when I saw her out of the corner of my eye as I stared at my computer screen, waiting. She hadn’t meant to sneak up on me, it was just she didn’t make any sound when she moved. “Sorry.” She said.

“It’s fine, um, we might be going somewhere soon.” She nodded. “Hopefully I can help you.” I swallowed. “I’m sorry, you know.” She tipped her head to the side. “Never mind, it’s nothing.” I wish I could better explain to her what had happened to her, what kind of man my father had been. I wished I could express to her how I had failed her. I don’t think she realized it was my fault, at least I thought it was anyway.


She pointed to the door and I knew she wanted to go out again which was it’s own personal hell. She was so amazed by the simplest things when she was outside and it tore me apart all over again knowing she may have never experienced a day outside after being taken as a three year old. Dealing with her now as an adult everything about her told me that she had been a constant prisoner of whomever had taken her and then his father, if he hadn’t been her original captor. She hadn’t had a normal life for even a second. My secluded life as a child was paradise compared to what she must have lived through and I wish more than anything I hadn’t been such a stupid kid. If I had just realized she wasn’t something I made up out of desperation I could have saved her once I was old enough to leave my fathers house.

“alright, lets go” It hurts but I was determined my father was going to be the last person that told her what she could and couldn’t do. Where ever she wanted to go, whatever she wanted to do, I was going to make sure she had all the freedom in the world, even if it was just a little too late.She watches me get ready then follows me to the door. I double check to make sure I have my cellphone incase Mrs Holfoldings answers me. I hope heaven is real and this woman can help her get there.

I go to get in my car but she shakes her head no and points to the sidewalk “you sure, I don’t mind taking you somewhere new” she looks at the sidewalk so I start to go down it. I’m not sure why she doesn’t always want to get in the car so I can take her somewhere she hasn’t seen but I don’t question it. Same old same old to me probably isn’t the same to her anyway. From what I’ve seen in movies, the world is so new to little kids they can do the same thing over and over and not tire of it so given the fact she hadn’t been allowed to have a life at all beyond being a toy I figure it’s just one of the ways she is like a child still.