In the Life

It was 2004, the summer before fourth grade. I was excited for the upcoming school year. I had an imaginary friend. I had had this friend since the end of second grade. He was a man who lived in the pipes of my school, but on most occasions, visited me outside of school as well. He had two sons, who I had started talking to.

This man, who had no name, would visit me in odd places such as the car, in the bathroom, or in my closet. His sons never left the school and would visit me in class.

I enjoyed my time with them and thought that nothing was wrong. One day, while having a "tea party" in my room, my dad joined me. The man was having tea with my two stuffed puppies when my dad sat on the chair he was in. I told him to get up because my friend was sitting there. He apologized and asked if I wanted more sprite for my party (A/N: I used to use sprite as my "tea"). When he came back with the sprite, I was in my closet, pulling at my hair and crying.

My parents took me to a doctor.

He asked me if I had heard the man speak to me, I said yes.
He asked me if I had seen the man, I said yes.
He asked me if the man was the only one, I told him no.

I was sent to a psychiatrist who later diagnosed me with childhood schizophrenia.

I still suffer, but I'm on about three different medications for it. I go to therapy. No one even suspects that I have schizophrenia.

In about seventh grade, the man went away. So did his family.
In ninth grade, the hallucinations got worse.
One of the sons came back, along with three people. They had names; Maria, Black, and Fisher.

My psychiatrist prescribed me a higher dose of antipsychotics.

I haven't told any of my friends that I have schizophrenia. I have to take my anti-psychotics twice a day or I'll be up at night, bothered by these hallucinations.

It's hard to tell what's real and what's not.