I have an imaginary friend. I guess that's why I'm here, not out there. He does some pretty wild things. Have you ever heard me
just start laughing for no particular reason? Well, that's my imaginary friend.
He's not really all that funny or nearly as sarcastic as myself. He taught me to laugh. He said, "Beat, you just can't be serious and
worry all the time. Whenever you feel this way, just laugh." So that's why I laugh unexplainably. Actually, maybe he is pretty
funny. He just went to wash his hands. When he pressed on the soap he screamed, "Ketchup! Ketchup!"
Jonas is very creative. We do a lot of things together. During the summer, Jonas and I visit the Evergreen Cemetery across from
the funeral home I was born in. I wish I could be there right now. Sometimes we picnic there with some new concoction we
made up for dinner the night before. Usually it has a lot of cumin spice in it because I love cumin. But, lately we have had to stop
using balsamic vinegar, which is his favorite, because my stomach doesn't react well to certain foods.
Sometimes we look for my Na-Na. I was name after her, Beatrice Joan Scollan. The cemetery is beautiful. I can't even
describe how gorgeous it is after visiting it so many times. My brother always said he wanted to be cremated, but I, for sure,
want to be buried in a cemetery, a gorgeous, glorious cemetery.
Lately, Jonas has been teaching me Swedish. I love to learn different languages. He never told me how he seems to know them
all. It didn't work out too well last time. He was trying to teach me Russian. I think Russian is way too hard. He says I'm just
blocking it out of my head. I wonder what he really means. I have to go right now. It's time for lunch in the big hall and another
big meeting with all the people here.
I'm back! Did you miss me? Of course you did. Well Dr. Noltece said I'm improving. He thinks writing will help me. To tell you
the truth I don't think anything is wrong with having an imaginary friend. Dr. Noltece says it's not normal for a fifteen-year-old
girl to have an imaginary friend, especially, one that influences me in a bad way. If I didn't know any better, I think Jonas is
terrific.
What I could use tomorrow morning is one of those trips to Barnes & Nobles. Jonas and I used to walk in at 9am and stay till
late in the day or until they kicked us out. We read all different kinds of books, drank mocha, and listened to the little bands
play jazz, rock, and classical. Last time I was there, I was reading a book about gnomes. They're such awesome little creatures.
Maybe I'll meet one some day.
When I was in second grade Jonas told me his grandfather had a mother unicorn and a baby unicorn on his farm. He said he'd
take me to see them some day. I could have believed ferry tales are true forever, but you grow up and your parents tell you
otherwise.
I don't think this will help me get out of here. Every day Dr. Noltece tells me I have to realize that I don't have an imaginary
friend. That will make me better. And make me free again. I think everyone has an imaginary friend. It may be the person you
want to be and/or yourself. Everyone talks to him or herself and reasons out things in their minds. That thing they could reason
with might be their imaginary friend.