Pretend friend (standard:Psychological fiction, 2074 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Aug 25 2007	Views/Reads: 4263/2439	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Children often have imaginary friends, but some just stay around in adulthood and never go away.

To any passer-by who saw him slowly walking along the shoreline, he was
alone. With his hands in his pockets, and a downcast gaze, watching the 
water lap the beach, he was a solitary 37 year-old in a business suit, 
up to his ankles in water as he walked like the loneliest man on earth, 
the sea breeze ruffling his thinning hair and flapping his blazer. It 
was late evening, the time when the last person on a beach would be 
packing away, as the sun had sank into the ocean, and the wind would be 
picking up pace. Except this wasn't that type of beach. No tourists 
came here as it was too far out of the way, and it wasn't very long in 
comparison to other beaches. It just reached past half a mile, and at 
its widest, it would just be longer than the widest motorway. Most of 
it was covered with stones, with the sand being at the shoreline. 

Patrick Burnett looked out at the horizon, at the orange, yellow and red
sky, pondering whether or not he should walk towards it, let himself be 
carried by the tide, out to sea, following the sun in its descent into 
the ocean. He had come down here to see if he could follow it through, 
see if he could go for a long swim in his suit, diving down for a 
close-up of the sea bed. He knew he would never do it. His subconscious 
had been telling him all along, and now, stood here, he discovered it 
was right. Despite the solitude, and quiet, Patrick had company. 
Patrick always had company, even in the shower. Ivor was standing in 
the water also, only he had taken his shoes and socks off and rolled 
his trousers up to his knees. He was gesturing for Patrick to go 
further out into the water. 

“Go on,” he said, “You can't do it can you? You big coward”. Ivor would
sport a grin most of the time, like he was doing now. More so now, 
because he knew for sure that Patrick could not commit suicide. He had 
already known it, but now it was definite, and that was reason for Ivor 
to be happy, to wade in the water like a big child, mocking Patrick, 
making him feel even more depressed. 

When Patrick was five, he had discovered an old children's book up in
the attic, following the adventures of Ivor the farm boy who looked 
after the talking pigs and horses, where the sun never set and 
everything seemed so picturesque and wonderful in its illustrated 
style. Patrick had identified with Ivor, and when he put the book down, 
Ivor remained in his imagination, becoming entwined in his psyche, and 
becoming with no hesitation, Patrick's pretend friend. For a five year 
old boy, this is nothing unusual. Children can get away with talking to 
themselves, as it is part of the developing mind, an emerging 
personality. After childhood, it becomes questionable, and there was no 
exception in Patrick's case. Ivor had never gone away, as with most 
children's imaginary friends. He projected forth from Patrick's 
imagination like a permanent hallucination. Growing with him, 
developing like Patrick into an adult. Going with him everywhere, 
talking to him, always in Patrick's company, never leaving his view, 
except when he closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, he was 
always there, especially in the mornings when Patrick woke. Ivor would 
be staring down at him with that grin of his. During his teens and 
beyond, Ivor would be hovering around. He was there for his first kiss, 
his wedding, his honeymoon, and his divorce, his interview at the bank, 
and at work, and at his recent dismissal, always in his field of 
vision, grating on his mind and sending him spiralling into a 
depression. He would tell him to go away, but it was exactly the same 
as telling somebody not to think of a dog, or a chair, the image always 
comes to mind. So with Ivor, telling him to leave was like trying to 
forget, sometimes it's impossible. It had become such that Patrick had 
begun to talk to Ivor openly in public, basically being aggressive 
towards him. ‘Go away', and ‘Leave me alone', the most prominent 
phrases shouted, leading people to believe that he was losing control 
of his mentality, and causing his superiors at work to agree that it 
was probably best they let him go. To employ somebody with mental 
problems looked bad on the bank's image, therefore, they felt they had 
no choice. It was the same with his marriage. It broke down after 14 
months because she couldn't cope with his  depression. There were times 
when she had said it felt like there were three of them in the 
relationship, and at one point, telling him it was as though he was 
having affair with himself. Ivor simply stood around and did what he 
did best. Nothing. Or irritate Patrick. He didn't have much of a 
personality, only what Patrick had given him, the persona from the 
children's book having vanished a long time ago, Ivor's companionship 
becoming something of an impediment and an annoyance. Not a true, or 
indeed real, friend. Patrick could barely remember the feeling of being 


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