Today Starlight had bright pink cotton candy hair. It wasn’t just cotton candy coloured, it was actual cotton candy. Since she’d been assigned to seven year old Emma, she’d changed form almost every week. She’d been a unicorn, an elf, a mermaid. She’d had wings, a halo, a dress made out of stars, just to name a few. Now she was a candy fairy with a head of cotton candy hair, sugar cane wings and a sparkly pink dress that was decorated with multicoloured crystal sugar. She twirled a fluff of cotton candy around her finger nervously as she watched Emma stand in front of the classroom. It was times like these that Starlight wished Imaginary Friends didn’t have so many rules.
Imaginary Friends are strictly prohibited against directly influencing or manipulating the decisions of their assigned child.
Imaginary Friends are strictly prohibited against negative physical actions towards their assigned child.
The role of an Imaginary friend is to be a companion to their assigned child as an observer. Strictly an observer.
In training they had learned the three cardinal rules of being an Imaginary Friend, and the rest were just “useful suggestions” that were supposed to make your job easier. Starlight always found it difficult to follow the last one, especially now as she watched Emma’s face turn tomato red.
“Class, please welcome our new student, Emma. Emma, would you like to introduce yourself?” the teacher said.
Starlight could feel the nervousness and uncertainty radiate from Emma. She wanted more than anything to whisk her out of the classroom and back to Emma’s room where they’d spent the bulk of the summer happily going on adventures she had imagined. This morning Emma had sighed mournfully the whole car ride to school, ignoring Mom’s attempts to cheer her up. Now she kept her head down, staring at her shoes and stuttered a few barely intelligible words. The teacher directed her to an empty desk and as Emma walked to her seat, the curious faces of the other students swivelled in her direction. She sat next to a little girl with a gap in her front teeth who smiled at her. Emma gave a shy smile back. Starlight sat next to her in a chair made out of cookies, absentmindedly breaking off a part of the armrest to nibble on.
When she’d received her very first assignment, she’d been ecstatic. Seven year old Emma had just moved across the country with her parents. Without a single friend in the new city and her parents busy with the move and their jobs, Emma was desperately in need of an Imaginary Friend to keep her company. Starlight had been ready to make a difference in a child’s life until her eagerness was dampened by her instructor.
You are just an observer in their life.
You could offer encouragement or support, but you were still just an observer. Most of an Imaginary Friend’s job involved waiting around until your assigned child was bored enough to start imagining you or when they needed support. The moment their attentions strayed, you weren’t needed anymore. All children eventually outgrew their Imaginary Friends. It was a worry Starlight had constantly kept in the back of her mind because she’d been Emma’s constant companion during the summer, only fading away when Emma nodded off to sleep and she had stopped thinking about the day Emma no longer needed her. As the start of school loomed, the worry had resurfaced. Starlight watched as Emma bent over a geometry worksheet. She was colouring the triangles laser yellow, the circles pink and the squares turquoise, carefully keeping within the lines and making sure every stroke was blending in.
At recess, Emma stood alone on the playground, fidgeting with her hands as her eyes darted around. The playground was crowded with kids swinging on the monkey bars, running up and down the slide, giggling as multiple games of tag went on which resulted in a chaos of shrieking children. Emma’s eyes zoomed in on the empty sandbox and she headed straight for it.
“Let’s go make a sandcastle!” Emma said, tugging on Starlight’s hand.
Starlight’s pink candy dress was replaced by a sparkly ballgown and a delicate tiara was sitting a top her head. She sat next to Emma, helping her shovel sand into a bucket while Emma carefully pressed the sand into place, filling up every inch of the bucket so the sand was packed tightly.
“Hi! Watcha doing?” the little girl who sat next to Emma appeared, grinning a gap-toothed smile.
“Making a sandcastle,” Emma said hesitantly.
“That looks fun,” the girl plopped down next to Emma. “Can I help?”
Emma regarded her tentatively. “I guess so.”
“I’m Rose by the way,” Rose instantly began filling a bucket with sand.
“I’m Emma.”
Starlight felt an affectionate twang as she watched the two girls play in the sandbox but as Emma and Rose became immersed in their chatters and sandcastle endeavours, Starlight felt a sharp tug. Whenever Emma stopped imagining her, Starlight always felt a gentle pull and then she’d gradually fade away. But this time it was different. This time it was abrupt, as if she was being yanked away.
“Emma,” she tried to say but Emma’s attention was elsewhere.
Don’t get too attached to your assigned child.
Another piece of advice from her instructor that Starlight had chosen to ignore until now. Imaginary Friends were there for the sole purpose of keeping a lonely child company but children either outgrew their loneliness or their overactive imaginations. Starlight lost track of time when she wasn’t being imagined and she found herself being pulled in and out of Emma’s imagination. Even when Emma finally got around to imagining Starlight, it was only for a brief period of time before she was interrupted by her new best friend Rose, playdates, after school activities or whatever a seven year old’s social life consisted of.
The next time Emma imagined Starlight was at the sandbox again and she was alone. Her brows furrowed in a frown. Starlight looked around and spotted Rose sitting on the swings, her arms folded, legs kicking the grass.
“Did you and Rose have a fight?” Starlight asked.
“She said I was hogging all the stuff,” Emma huffed. “But I wasn’t!”
“I’ll play with you instead,” Starlight said.
Starlight hadn’t realized how much she had missed Emma until they settled back to the old routine. Emma happily playing without a care in the world, Starlight at her side. With Starlight there, Emma quickly forgot about her argument with Rose. She decided that the sand wasn’t wet enough so she stood up with a bucket of sand in hand and ran towards the water fountain in the middle of the playground. Starlight saw everything in slow-motion. Not seeing a small root in the grass, Emma’s legs caught on them. The second she started to fall, the bucket and shovel flew out of her hand in a curved trajectory. The sand splattered in all directions, some hitting the other kids. Emma landed on her hands and knees with a hard thud. There was a rip and then two smaller thuds as the bucket and shovel hit the ground in succession.
There was a moment of silence as a group of kids gathered around Emma. She got to her feet, her pants stained with grass and dirt sticking to her hands. There was a nasty scrape on her hand and she was sniffling.
“Look!” a kid suddenly shouted. “Emma ripped her pants!”
Emma’s hands flew to cover the rip in her pants but it was too late. There was a chorus of gasps and then laughter broke out in the group. Even Rose was giggling. Emma’s bottom lip trembled as she stood in the middle of the circle. Before the tears spilled over, she pushed pass the group and ran as hard as she could until she reached a far corner of the playground where she hid behind a tree and cried. Starlight wrapped her arms around Emma and as her sobs faded to little hiccups, Starlight realized how badly she wanted to protect her.
All children outgrow their Imaginary Friend.
But maybe children were happiest with their Imaginary Friend. Maybe Imaginary Friends should be more than just observers.
Emma refused to go out at recess for the next week, staying in the classroom with a content Starlight. Even after an apology from Rose for laughing, Emma still refused to play with her. But children seemed to have the memory of a goldfish and within a week, Emma was curiously looking out the window again, itching to play with the other kids. After some coaxing by her parents and teacher, it looked like Emma had all but forgotten the playground incident and was ready to be best friends with Rose again.
“Emma! Wanna play tag today?” Rose said as recess started.
Emma perked up. “Okay! I’ll be there in a second!” She started to gather her things and Starlight felt a sharp tug.
Imaginary Friends are strictly prohibited against directly influencing or manipulating the decisions of their assigned child.
Starlight remembered the cruelty of the other kids and the rules of an Imaginary Friend disappeared from her mind.
“Emma, don’t go out with Rose,” she said.
“But I wanna play tag,” Emma said.
“Wouldn’t you rather stay and play with me? We can build a gingerbread house!”
Emma was conflicted. She glanced at Rose’s retreating back and then at Starlight.
“What if you trip and fall again? I don’t want you to get hurt and don’t you remember how mean everyone was?” the moment she said it, Starlight saw the incident replay in Emma’s mind and she shrunk a little. “If you stay here with me, I promise we’ll have lots of fun.” She held her hand out and Emma took it.
Starlight was able to convince Emma to stay in at recess for the next while. But she felt a twinge of guilt every time Rose walked away with an expression of hurt when Emma refused to play with her. Emma spent most of her time doodling in a colouring book, distracted by the sounds of laughter on the playground. Even Starlight’s cotton candy hair failed to amuse her but then again, it had lost some if it’s magical appeal. Starlight was still a candy fairy, having not changed form for weeks. It seems Emma’s imagination just wasn’t in it anymore.
Let your child go when she’s ready.
Not a tip she’d learned in training but one she was starting to realize on her own as she watched Emma sit at her desk in an empty classroom. She sighed and then wrapped Emma in a tight hug, surprising her. She ruffled the little girl’s hair affectionately.
“I think you should go finish that sandcastle with Rose,” Starlight said.
“I don’t wanna,” Emma said, her voice muffled by Starlight’s hug. “What if I trip again and all the kids laugh at me?”
“They won’t I promise,” Starlight said. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
Emma’s eyes lit a up a bit but she was still hesitant. “Pinky promise?”
“Of course,” Starlight held out her pinky and Emma wrapped her own pinky around Starlight’s.
Emma bounded out the door as Starlight stayed behind, taking a seat in her cookie chair as she felt herself fade away.