And you had to notice how your little son or daughter plays and communicates with a fictitious friend. Sometimes, this is a fictional child, less often some kind of animal, and sometimes a fabulous mystical character.
Of course, children have a very violent fantasy. However, it is not uncommon for the imaginary friends of young children to amaze and frighten adults. This is evidenced by thousands of eyewitness accounts.
Imaginary friend. Eyewitness Andrey
When I was a young child, I was shy and didn't have much contact with my peers. This, probably, was the reason that I had an imaginary friend named Kolya. I don’t remember anymore, I called him by that name, or he introduced himself like that. My childhood fantasy worked so hard on Kolya's image that I could play with him at any time. He always answered if I asked him about something. With Kolya, I always had fun.
Parents, of course, knew that I communicated with "emptiness", but decided not to interfere, they say, it will pass with time. And it passed, only very strange.
I was seven years old, I spent the summer with my grandparents in the village. Once I went with the older guys to swim in the river. I remember it was a very hot day. We played, splashed, dabbled. Some of the guys suggested jumping off the bridge into the river. I felt uneasy. The bridge was high above the water, and I didn't swim very well.
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The village boys ran to the bridge with loud shouts. One boy has already jumped. Approaching the railing of the bridge, I was also going to jump. Suddenly I felt a gaze on myself. It was my imaginary friend Kolya. This time he was very serious. In a strained voice, he told me not to jump off the bridge, otherwise I would die. I listened to Kolya as if spellbound - then he spoke like an adult. I listened to my imaginary friend.
When I got home, I told my grandmother about everything. I always told her about my friendship with Kolya, and she, always smiling, listened. This time, tears appeared in her eyes, the grandmother silently went into another room.
Since then I have never seen Kolya again. And eventually I forgot about it. When I turned nineteen, my mother told me that she wanted to tell me something important. She said that I once had an older brother, and that he died at the age of six, a year before my birth. How surprised I was when my mother showed me a photograph of my brother who died on that very bridge - the photo was my "fictional" friend Kolya from childhood!
