Made Up Friends

The crackling of a bed under me was what originally pulled me out of my slumber. I didn't dare open an eye, as I felt an overwhelming presence of sunlight on my face. It stopped briefly, the shadow must have been cast by a person, the same that just stood up from the bed I've been sleeping on. I heard minor commotion in the room before the door to it was opened, and sounds of an earlybird family reached my ears. I clenched up a little, slowly coming to terms that I wasn't in at own house, mild sense of anxiety ran through my spine. I almost never went to sleepovers. I relaxed a little when the smell of bacon and eggs hit me strongly, but stiffened once more, when I heard a voice that I didn't recognize. Among the familiar voices belonging to my best friend, his siblings and his mother, there was a tenor voice with a strong British accent.

I grunted, knowing that it was time to get up and check things out. I changed my position to face away from the sun, the rough bed sheeting rubbing off my skin. I got excited to put on new clothes and get the feeling of freshness onto my body, but was disappointed to find out I have slept in my school uniform all along. All I could do was to reach under my shirt and spray deodorant onto my skin.

I put my feet on the warm floor, stretching, many joints in my body cracking with a satisfying click. The bathroom was right next door to the room I slipped in unseen, in order to avoid talking to people in the state of half-sleep. I only splashed water onto my face, getting some of my longish hair wet in the process, and cleaned my glasses. Fully awake, I walked into the kitchen, mesmerized by the smells, only to be startled by a cheer. Oh yeah. It was my eighteenth birthday.

The kitchen was spacious and well lit, with large windows covering almost two of the north facing wall of the room. The eggs and bacon sizzled on the stove, next to which stood a middle-aged woman, Suzanne, head of the household. Four people sat by the table, the siblings looked kind of adorable being organised by age, with the oldest two, Mark and Kian, looking at me with quirky ayes. A small grin appeared on my face as a response to such a warm welcome. I heard a 'happy birthday' from everyone seated at the table, yet my friends remained silent.

"Thanks, guys. Just don't sing for me." I answered them, earning a chuckle, and sat at the very end of the table, sideways to Mark. He nodded at me with a smile and turned his attention back to the plate of scrambled eggs. My stomach growled when I looked at his plate, and my mouth watered, looking hopefully at Suzanne, right in time when she walked over to me with my plate. A blush spread across my face when I saw a candle stuck into the eggs.

"Happy birthday Nick." She said and went back to cooking. I blew the candle and removed it from the plate, everyone was looking at me with amusement.

"I wanted to stick a cigarette in there." Kian suddenly spoke.

"Of course you did." I answered, not surprised.

"Ah, leave him alone. He doesn't smoke. He'll outlive us all." Suzanne backed me up from the kitchen. I smirked and dug a fork into my breakfast.

"I heard a voice coming from here before." I said with my mouth full. "Do we have guests?" I swallowed and looked around for an answer.

"Rachelle just got an imaginary friend." Mark said.

"Woah. That's the third one already, isn't it?" Most people found the idea of imaginary friends normal at this stage, but I was still fascinated by it, and I just couldn't get used to all sorts of characters walking around town. I was fascinated, and often awkwardly stared at them on the streets.

"Yeah, and it's another dog." Said Kian, biting into his gluten-free cracker. "And he talks."

"I heard. Well, I'm really happy for Rachelle. Isn't she a little old for one though?" I thought out loud. Mark had an answer ready.

"Nope. She's just thirteen. It's rare but not unknown for kids who are even fourteen to get a pet. The highest record was set by a Canadian girl who was fifteen, I think. Although she really needed a friend like that. She was like, bullied in school, and lived with abusive grandparents." He said, finishing his eggs, and looking at me blankly.

"I'd say there are people who need those more than her." I stated. "How does it even work?"

"No one really knows how it works. We just go with it." Kian joined in. "The proper term isn't even 'imaginary friend'. No one imagines anything. It's actually 'companion'." He said. Mark nodded in agreement. I found it bizarre. It hasn't even been a year since cartoon-esque characters started appearing in children's lives, yet the most notice they ever got was when an incident happened involving one. No one cared or paid any attention to this anomaly, and I felt like I was the only one seeing this sudden oddity.

When we were all done, everyone went to their rooms to get their bags ready, and I was the first one by the door. I discovered why that family was always late to school: it was a nightmare to get every child to listen and pack their stuff.

That was when I saw the new member of my befriended family. At first, I only noticed a blur of brown fur, and a wagging tail, running downstairs side by side with Rachelle, one of the other kids that wasn't present at breakfast for whatever reasons. He noticed me, and immediately his attention turned towards me, as he tilted his head, his ears flapping, looking up into my eyes. He paddled over to me, sat on his haunches, and lifted his right paw.

"Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Brad." He spoke. His muzzle was shorter than most dogs', and I guessed that was one of the reasons speech was possible. "Are you one of the siblings too?"

"Heh, no. My name is Nick. I'm just here for the night." I knelt down, and awkwardly shook his paw in my hand, not sure on how to behave, yet being confident to make a good impression. He was roughly the size of a small German Sheppard, but with all light brown fur, looking as if most of it had the same exact colour or even shade, bending the rules of physics. His British accent made me crack up on the inside a little, making me smile even wider. "How did materialisation go for you?" I asked him, remembering a bit of trivia I've heard before, that sometimes the process of imaginary pets goes unexpectedly wrong.

"All is fine, I'm just a little stiff in the joints." He said and stretched on the ground in front of me. "I'm just so glad I will now be Rachelle's imaginary friend." His retinas widened, as they followed my friends' sister around absentmindedly. "She's so sweet."

I didn't know Rachelle too well personally, so I had to take his word for it. I was about to get more philosophical with Brad, and ask him how does it feel to serve such an obscure purpose, like making a child happy, only Kian disturbed our little exchange.

"Come on Nick, we gotta go. We're already late anyway." I nodded sadly into the dog's wise eyes. He nodded back. His mouth opened and he started breathing with his tongue out, before he laid down on the ground, putting his muzzle between the paws. His tail hit the floor twice for goodbye. It was a pity. It was only then, when I realised how many questions I had about imaginary friends. And who would be better to ask than one of them? As I exited the house, I was already anticipating my next conversation with Brad the Dog.

We walked out onto the autumn wind, a small army of seven, ready to be educated, and got into Ciaran's (the dad's) minibus. It was a necessary possession in such a large family. I sat at the very back, in the middle seat with Mark on my left and Kian on my right. I thought that it was the best time to ask Mark about my party.

"Did you get the alcohol?" I said. We wanted to prepare ahead, and he was the only one above eighteen, except me. Well, I was technically only going to reach adulthood at eleven in the evening, but that didn't matter. If I was asked to show my ID, the exact time of birth wouldn't be a bother to anyone. Nonetheless, my party was going to take place the day after tomorrow, only two days after my actual birthday, on a Saturday, and it was supposed to be held at their house. I didn't like the word 'party', per se. It was more of a small get-together with the few friends I had.

"I did." He said. "But I don't know what we'll do with it now." My face lit up, but confusion shortly crept onto it.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice cracking. I was looking at his left profile, his long hair covered his facial features, as something was stopping him from looking me in the eyes. Just as he was about to answer me, a voice reached us from the driver seat.

"Family's coming. My sister and her husband." Ciaran said, looking at me through the little mirror on the minibus' ceiling, his forehead wrinkling in an attempt to see me better. His old eyes sent me a silent apology.

"Like, so unannounced?" I felt like on a train without a ticket, with a conductor walking in. I was really looking forward to that day, and all seemed ruined.

"We're sorry, Nick. We should have known. They always come during autumn holidays." Kian joined in.

"I never understood how in this country you can have a week-long holiday right after three months of summer off." I said, trying not to talk about our missed opportunity to have fun.

"Ireland is special." Mark said as the bus hit a bump in the road. "How about next weekend? They're staying until Friday, so we can't do it on the week off, unfortunately. But Saturday and Sunday are okay."

I opened my mouth to agree, but then I remembered it wasn't possible.

"I'll still be out with scouts by then. I'm only back late Sunday."

"Heh... School." Mark scratched his chin. "How about in two weeks time?"

"It won't be the same..." I didn't show them that I was about cry, and I instead concealed my emotions.

"Well, it's your choice, Nick." Ciaran said again. "Just say the word." I nodded into the little mirror, and his attention returned to the bumpy, country road ahead of us, driving towards the town of Killeanney.

The minibus was quickly overtaken by silent commotion of conversations. The younger siblings in the seats in front of me were talking about their school drama, and Mark and Kian were indulged by showing each other the latest memes. I was surprised that I wasn't too interested in the latter, and instead, I leaned my head backwards, able to see the first drops of rain hit the glass of the back window. I got used to the Irish rains, and they never made me feel too sad, except when I actually felt down. And that was one of those moments.