Just Get in the Box

When your imaginary friend quits being friendly

First, the blizzard was keeping them all in the house and now Herbert would not let Flora out of the closet.

“Come on Herbie. It’s so dusty in here. See! I just sneezed. I thought we were going to play a game.”

We are. You just need to get in this box.

The box was simple cardboard, dotted with old moving stickers. Still, she didn’t like the look on Herbert’s face. Flora didn’t want to play.

“Please, just let me out. My parents are going to be scared if they can’t find me.”

Your parents are with the others. We are all playing the same game.

“This isn’t even fun. What happens when we get in there?”

That’s the surprise. Just come here and look inside. There’s a clue.

Flora rattled the knob of the closet door.

“You’re scaring me. Let me OUT Herbie!”

I wish I could. But the others would be angry.

“Who are the others? My parents don’t have friends like you!”

They do now. And they are already playing the game. Can you hear them?

“No dummy. I can’t because I’m in this closet. I can make you disappear, you know. I don’t have to believe in you.”

You are a true believer, Flora. Once was enough.

“GO AWAY! YOU ARE NOT REAL.”

There was an absence in the closet, a stillness that persisted. Flora exhaled deeply and tried the door. It still didn’t budge.

Something rustled behind her. Flora turned to see a blue light coming from the box. Fear made her still colder. She took hold of a softball bat discarded beneath her tutus.

There was no way she was getting in there. And if anything other than her mom and dad crawled out of it, it’ll be a game-winning homer, for sure.

Betsy Denson, 2021

Thanks for the prompt Zane Dickens!