Fred and Lizzie sat silently together as the minutes slowly passed. Fred didn't want to admit it to her, but he was starting to get scared. Had he really just promised to change Polly after ten years of constant torment? The job seemed nearly impossible, and he couldn't bear the thought of letting down another child.

He watched silently as Lizzie played with her toys and let out a small sigh, thinking of the last assignment he had. Her name was Blair, a young bright-eyed girl who seemed to have it all. She had a family that owned half of the neighborhood and one of the largest houses Fred had ever seen, yet they still had piles of money to spare. Everything she had ever wanted was brought to her on a silver platter, whether it be toys or pets, even cars that she couldn't drive yet. Her life seemed perfect.

Fred's gaze moved down towards the floor, thinking of all of the fun they used to have together. No matter what they did, or even what got broken, there were never any consequences. They would make mud pies to fling at neighbors, flood the street with water during the winter so that everyone would slip, hide objects such as car keys and wallets, and even occasionally steal from unsuspecting girl scout cookie sellers that traveled door to door.

Every time that they got caught, her parents would always make up the difference in the only way they knew how: their money. Neighbors would be bribed to the point that even their children started to attract to Blair like a magnet, in hopes that they would be compensated for their time with her. But as long as Fred was there she was never lonely.

"Fred...?" Lizzie asked quietly, seeing that Fred had become misty-eyed. Fred quickly wiped the tears away and picked up one of the toy cars, rolling it back and forth on the floor and making his usual obnoxious noises. After a few moments of watching him Lizzie smiled and went back to the picture that she was now drawing.

Fred's mind wandered back to Blair as he rolled the truck around in a never-ending circle. Blair had been the first child that he had ever made a promise to. He remembered it clearly, the day that he intertwined her pinky finger in his and told her that they would be happy like this forever. He unconsciously began 'driving' the truck more violently across the floor, making sharp turns and louder driving noises.

After a minute or so he stopped completely, remembering the day that his promise had been broken. He thought of how the light had faded from Blair's eyes as her mother became sick. All of a sudden the fun had stopped. There were no more games, no more new toys to play with, no one coming to the house to visit any more. The house had been filled with emptiness, and the sound of Blair's laughter no longer echoed through its walls.

The day that Blair's mother passed away was the day that Fred disappeared from her life. He was unwanted, shunned from her imagination and blocked out by her stronger sad thoughts. He was sent away, back to face the Council that gave him lecture upon lecture about what he had done wrong. Imaginary friend official rule number 4832, never make a promise to a child that you can't keep.

Fred looked back to Lizzie, only to see that she was drawing a picture of the two of them together. She was no artist, but he was fairly certain that the green blob with the mess of red hair was indeed himself. Lizzie looked up at him and smiled, pointing to how the two figures were holding hands. He wiped away his tears and faked a small smile back at her, making a silent vow with himself to help Lizzie in any way possible. He couldn't go through letting down a child again.

Moments later the door to Lizzie's room suddenly opened. Fred looked up to see Nigel standing in the doorway, still in his work clothes closely followed by Polly. She had an expression on her face that made Fred nervous, and he gently placed his hand on Lizzie's shoulder in support.

"Well? Go on!" Polly yelled, shoving her husband into the room. He sighed and turned to Lizzie.

"Elizabeth," he said calmly, but his tone quickly became more stern as he saw the expression on his wife's face. "Elizabeth we need to talk." Lizzie looked up at her parents nervously. "Lizzie what happened today?" he asked. Lizzie stared back at him, feeling speechless. How could she explain to him that her imaginary friend had yet again caused another mess?

"I'll tell you what happened," Polly yelled, running low on patience. "Your angel has ruined my house yet again!"

"N-no I-" Lizzie began in an attempt to defend herself, but Polly was not going to listen to her.

"Don't you DARE tell me that 'friend' of yours did this!" She yelled, lifting up what was left of the fabric from one of the couch cushions. Hearing the anger in her voice, Fred tightened his grip on Lizzie's shoulder. "Well?!" She stared at her daughter waiting for an explanation, but Lizzie didn't say a word. Polly's gaze moved towards the picture she was drawing and quickly she snatched it out of the little girl's hands.

"Polly..." Nigel began, seeing tears begin to form in Lizzie's eyes, but he quickly closed his mouth when his wife glared intensely at him.

"Is this 'him'?" She demanded, looking at the crude picture Lizzie had drawn. Lizzie couldn't do anything but nod in response, in fear of what her mother might do this time. An evil grin spread across Polly's face as she ripped the picture in half.

"S-stop!" Lizzie cried out reaching for the picture, but Polly only kept tearing until all that was left were tiny scraps of paper. Her grin got wider as she sprinkled the pieces down to the floor at Lizzie's feet.

"When will you ever learn? Stories are called stories for a reason Elizabeth. The same goes for this 'friend' of yours. He's not welcome in our house."

Fred jumped up with his hands on his hips. "Excuse me?!"

"This is the last straw Elizabeth," Polly continued as Fred walked towards her angrily. "If I find one inch of this house out of place ever again-" She stopped when Nigel grabbed her arm gently. She stared at him for a moment, not understanding why a grown man could not discipline his own child. Before Fred could reach her she had stormed out of the room in frustration.

Lizzie looked down at the floor and continued to cry. Fred watched Polly storm down the hallway before placing his hand back onto her shoulder. "Snot Face..." he whispered quietly, but he stopped when he saw her tears dropping down to the floor. He looked up at Nigel before gently pushing Lizzie in his direction.

Nigel shut the door and embraced his daughter tightly, not understanding why his wife was so cruel. "Shhhhh," he whispered to her before pulling away from her and gently pushing the hair out of her face. Fred watched as he began to wipe her tears away.

Suddenly, Fred got a strong feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was a burning sensation, as though he had been stabbed with a scorching hot knife. He watched as Lizzie was led over to her bed by her father before picking up the pieces that were on the floor. He held his stomach in pain for a moment before quickly disappearing out of the room.

Seconds later Fred was outside. He laid the pieces of the picture down onto the driveway in an attempt to form the picture once more. Failing, he picked the pieces up again and held them tightly to his chest, directly over his heart. He closed his eyes as the burning in his body intensified and his eyes began to water. Fred knew this feeling, he had gotten it once before just a few weeks before Blair's mother passed away. He clenched his fists tightly as tears began to roll down his face. "Im in trouble..." he whispered to himself.