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Adam knew his friend was real, very real. His mom and dad just didn’t understand because he was small, and his words were small, and his fear was even smaller.
Friends didn’t hurt friends afterall, so why would he be fearful?
He had never really had many friends, real or fake, so sure, sometimes he wanted to talk to someone else, but he did only have the TV man. And that wasn’t too bad, right? His new friend was nice, even if he looked scary sometimes.
They would even play games, he liked that. It was espically fun because he didn’t always have to use his imagination for their games. His friend could become different things. The TV man would be a person, a silly picture on the screen, or anything else he decided to be! Most people weren’t able to do that, Adam wanted to be able to change like that.
But another cool thing about his friend? Sometimes he would whisper that he could be invisible, and that made sense, because Adam was always able to hear him even when he couldn’t see his friend. You would think Adam would be annoyed by this, but not really. He wasn’t lonely anymore.
There weren’t many other people to listen to or talk to, so having even this one friend was nice. Mom was often too tired and sad and nervous to talk to him. Dad didn’t stay around often, also too tired and closed off to play or talk. But his friend was never tired or sad or far away. He was always close and whispering and watching.
His friend espically liked to stand in the corner. Waiting in the darkness where his parents wouldn’t think to look. Adam had tried to ask once what his friend was waiting for, but his friend had simple smiled with decayed teeth and crooked jaw, shaking his head, one finger pressed delicately to his lips.
His friend had told Adam he would mess up the biggest game of all if he kept asking about it. Adam wasn’t supposed to ruin the game, he felt a bit upset that his friend thought he would. He never really asked again.
Sometimes the TV man would tell him stories after his mom set him to bed, whispering to him from across the room, voice always clear and crisp when he decided it should be. Adam wished he could talk like that. It would be so much easier.
He liked stories. Espically the scary ones.
There were plenty of those, and sometimes they were really scary, but if it ever got too much, his mom would hurry into his room and calm him down when she heard him call for her. His friend would sometimes laugh because of that, Adam never really knew why. It made him mad sometimes, to be laughed at, but his friend never tried to hurt him.
Friends don’t try to hurt friends.
But his friend did scare him. He was very real. Adam sometimes wished he wasn’t.
~
His friend would call himself many names. Stanley, Cain, Intruder, Six, Divinity, Sin, etc. Adam didn’t know why he got to have so many when he only got two three, four, five, six, you shall inherit the mirthless guile and cast thee sinful and bare upon the wasteland hell they deserve. Though sometimes his friend would give him nicknames.
Sweet boy, the corpse in the corner would croon on occasion, was the one Adam knew best. He liked being called sweet, maybe if he was sweet enough his mom would stop crying when she thought he wouldn’t notice.
He didn’t want to make most people cry. Maybe his friend should cry though. His friend never cried, only smiled. For some reason, that scared Adam. He told his friend it was okay to cry, the smile would just widen though.
Adam didn’t know why his friend smiled. He wished his friend would stop once in awhile. Maybe he could give that smile to his mom, so she could be happy and so that his friend could be a little sad. Maybe.
His friend did get mad.
Only when Adam said something wrong, but he knew his friend could be mad. His face went dark when he was, but thankfully Adam didn’t make him mad much. His friend’s voice hurt to listen to when he was mad.
He didn’t like seeing people mad. He didn’t like being mad. He was too small. His emotions were too big. Maybe when he was older it would be easier.
~
His friend was being weird, weirder than normal. Mom was scared, nervous. Adam didn’t know why, but she would always put on a smile and say things were fine.
He knew she lied.
He would wake up sometimes, scared. Crying. Unsure why he was feeling so bad, but he thought it had something to do with his friend.
He knew the TV was different. He didn’t mind watching the TV, but it had changed. His friend had changed it. Adam felt different when he watched it. It didn’t feel fun anymore, the games weren’t as fun, his friend was different.
It scared him.
~
He did something wrong. He must have. He had just gone with the TV man for a little while, or at least if felt like a little while, but mom wouldn’t wake up.
She just hung there. He didn’t know why. But she was still.
She wasn’t supposed to be still.
Adam couldn’t stop crying, he didn’t know why. His friend was laughing. He didn’t like this game anymore.
~
Adam didn’t know where he was, quietly resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder with a trembling lip and chubby fist clenched into his friend’s dark hoodie. His friend was taking him somewhere, he didn’t know where his parents were, he felt bad.
His head hurt.
He couldn’t stop crying.
~
His friend had taken him somewhere, Adam left to sit quietly on the bed he’d been settled on. He sniffled, wiping tears away with his hands, “Where?”
His friend shushed him, gently running a hand through his hair. Adam watched, reaching out with a whine when his friend pulled away.
“I don’t wanna,” he hiccuped, “I don’t wanna!”
His friend hushed him again, face darkening. Adam just curled up on himself, wiping harshly at his nose as he tried to blink away his blurry gaze. He didn’t know where he was, or what they were doing, or where his parents were.
His friend was mad at him and he couldn’t stop being sad and he was scared.
His friend spoke without speaking, he understood what he meant, Adam looking up in confusion. “Was different? Where’s mom?”
His friend raised Adam’s chin with a finger in order to stare into his eyes, Adam looking back with another choked sob. Adam didn’t understand, what did his friend mean that he was special? That he was going to do amazing things? That no one could understand better than him what would have to be done?
It didn’t make sense. But… but friends don’t hurt friends right? So why did he feel so scared?
Adam’s friend tilted his head to the side, hands coming to rest on either side of Adam’s head. Something felt wrong. He opened his mouth to ask what his friend was doing when there was a sudden motion and a snap.
He felt tired.
~
Adam Murray woke up with a gasp, hand grasping at his chest as he fought for breath, trembling something awful as he hurried to sit up.
He felt shaky, unsteady, wrong.
But, but he was just in his bed, looking around sharply at his room. He was fine, it was fine, just— just a nightmare, right? Yeah, yeah he could, he could deal with nightmares. He could… he looked at his hands, taking in shuddering breathes before letting himself fall back onto his mattress.
God, he hated weird dreams like that. He was fine. There was a figure in the corner. He was safe. Those eyes watched and that smile was the same. He simply closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
A hand carded through his hair, gentle. A soft crooning voice lingering at the edges of his consciousness. He didn’t dare open his eyes to look.