I have a nice little world of my own. When I see birds I hear them sing to each other. I think teddies will be sad if I throw them away. In my little bubble I see things others can't and hear voices in the air. It is like a transparent, thick glass sphere – I can look out, but not much in the world makes sense, especially humans. It blocks out all the noise and unpleasant things like flashing light and ambulance sirens, but sometimes they seep through and threaten to engulf my bubble. Of course I must protect it, that’s why I scream and freak out. I hope you understand. When I try to communicate properly with people, it’s futile – they cannot understand me, what with the thick glass walls separating us. I am very sorry for being bad, but I really cannot help it sometimes. I am proud of myself for being better now than I was when I was a smaller child (I don’t bite people anymore, for one).
The only friend I had was Kate, I first saw her when I was 7. She turned out to be what my doctor called “an imaginary friend” – but I still love her nonetheless because she was perfect, someone my mind constructed to fill in the empty spaces that should have been real children. To me she was far beyond a mere delusion of the mind, along with the others. I love her laugh, it is like wind chimes and tinkling bells, the sounds I love most. I saw her again this year, after ages. She has not grown up, she is still the silent 7 year old I remember her as. I heard the voices in my head again – they weren’t mean or anything, just commenting on what I was doing. I like their company.