Wee, finally the second chapter after long, antagonizing days. If the vocabulary seems ready for a three year old, its because I lacked the emotions needed for this section of the story. x Pity me. Critique me. Kill me.

Goddess of Unfinished Projects: Glad I was able to do such a thing. :o

Kristen: I'm writing! I'm writing ;;

Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side
So I don't get hurt
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh
Every day of my life...

Kelly Clarkson - Because of You

"Jodie! I've told you to get in here and get ready for school!" A shrill voice called from inside the colonial-styled house. The morning sky briskly whipped whisps of wind across the porch, causing the fall leaves to brush and scrap across the fine mahogany wood. A small drumming sound steadily echoed around the household, followed by the squeaking of sneakers on pavement.

"Mom, I'm already dressed! Give me five more minutes! The score is tied!" A long blond-haired girl called back towards the voice. She held a basketball under her arm, knees covered in slight scraps, following up to her dirt-covered shorts. A jersey hung loosely on her arms and shoulders, and a smug look was placed under her sapphire eyes. Her mother came to the doorway, one arm holding a freshly baked pie, the other holding an outfit for her daughter. If standing side by side, Jodie would of looked like a perfect copy of her mother...perfectly dirty.

"Hun, it's already 8:45, you're going to miss the bus if you don't start walking now. You have all afternoon to play basketball with your friend, now get in here and change."

"It's alright, Jodie. Go ahead and get to school. I'll help your mom around the house today!" A cheery voice sprouted up behind Jodie. The squeaking of sneakers was heard again, belonging to a rather ridiculously tall imaginary friend. He was bright red, blinding to the eye had the morning sky not been a perfect background to contrast him with. A navy blue number one was on his chest, and his feet sported tall socks and sneakers; the trademarks of a basketball fan's friend. He knelt down, his eyes on stalks above his head, and took the ball from Jodie. She grinned and hugged him tightly, slightly pushing up onto her toes. Even when he knelt down, he was much taller than her by far. Jodie's mother headed back inside the house, placing the pie on the counter, and the outfit over the top of a chair as Jodie and the friend followed. He ducked his head through the doorway, then stood back up, thankful for the cathedral ceiling of the living room and kitchen.

"Wilt, I'm going to beat you one of these days. I think I imagined you too well." She grinned at him, before taking the outfit and skipping down the hall towards her room. Wilt sat down on the sofa, stretching his legs out across the floor.

"...Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I'm sorry if it is." He wondered aloud towards her mother. She chuckled, pacing between the oven and the fridge, grasping various ingredients for her cooking.

"You shouldn't be sorry for something like that, Wilt. It wasn't your decision to be the best basketball player in the world."

"I'm not as good as the players on TV that Jodie watches..." Wilt debated, looking at the blank television screen a few inches from his feet. Jodie's mother smiled at him, and turned back, taking a glance inside the oven.

"If you are good enough for my daughter, you're the best there is." Jodie hurried down the hall, her backpack bouncing from one strap on her shoulder. She quickly ran a brush through her hair before tossing it carelessly onto the counter, hugging her mother.

"See you two after school!"

"Have a good day Jodie!" Her mother called, before heading back to her tasks. Wilt stood up, stretching his legs again before glancing at the mother.

"Here, let me help you with that..."
"Oh Wilt, you're too kind. Thank you."

The wind was blowing harsher than earlier that morning and a slight tinkling was heard against the rough surface of the roof, the smooth reflections of the windows, and the polished wood of the porch; though none of this was too apparent to Wilt. He was barely coherent, his left leg stretched out across the floor, the right cramped against the arm of the sofa, and the rest of his body sprawled on the flower decorations of the pearl-colored sofa. He slowly opened his eyes, the only light visible was from the small spotlight above the kitchen sink, the windows were dark with the afternoon's dark angry clouds. A soft rumbling of their future fury growled over the household. He looked at the ceiling, stretching up to accomidate the weight of the construction above, before taking a painful turn over onto his side. He pushed his right leg over the arm of the chair, a crack of the bone audible as he strained. He felt crummy, but blamed it on the aftereffects of sleep and the weather. He closed his eyes again, wondering for a brief period of the location of Jodie's mother. After a time, he opened his eyes again to take a gander at the family clock, ticking peacefully above the hallway doorframe. School hours were over, and Jodie was most likely spending time with her friends, or in the athlete committee that gathered three days of the week. Not quite remembering what day it was, Wilt breathed in deeply, exhaling his relaxation as his eyes closed again.

The rain pattered slightly harder down onto the household, and the rest of the community as the sirens of a distant ambulance reached Wilt. He frowned, mixing emotions in his mind of pity and disgust at what the damage could be of whatever accident had been caused. However, the back of his mind annoyingly tugged at the neurons, forcing thoughts of Jodie being hurt into his mind. He scowled, and made an attempt to shove them out; however the sirens became louder, only feeding the growing panic. She's alright Wilt, calm down. The accident was probably somewhere down the street, he thought to himself, shoving the horrid thoughts farther back. But what if is down the street, maybe I should go help them, another thought interrupted his previous. After another minute of the war-patched thoughts, the sirens continued becoming louder, and Wilt forced himself into a sitting position. He stood, holding onto the back of the sofa for a moment to gain his composure, as the mother of Jodie hurried in tennis shoes out from the darkness of the hallway. He looked at her as she sped into the kitchen, grabbing a hold of her purse and digging through it, a frantic look of terror on her face.

"What's wrong Mrs. Calloway?" He asked, concerned. She continued digging through, finding a green book and flipping through it. She slightly flinched however when his voice broke the awkward rustling of her rooting through.

"There's been an accident at Jodie's school. They're holding off all the buses until the ambulances get out of the way..." The sirens screamed as the sloshing of tires through rain puddles was heard outside the house. A white and red blur was seen as the ambulance squealed by, heading down the road towards the school. Wilt's face turned slightly pale as the lights shone through the windows, until they were no longer seen, but the sirens still screeched. "...I'm going to go to the school to pick up Jodie."

"I'll come with you!" Wilt started, taking a step forward. Mrs. Calloway put a hand up to stop him.

"No Wilt, it's nothing personal, but I want you to stay here in case she gets a ride home or she walks home. I don't want her here by herself. Please understand, it's just mother's worry." Wilt nodded in understanding, heading into the kitchen and putting his hand on her shoulder as she packed her purse with the green book again.

"Don't worry Mrs. Calloway, I can wait for her on the porch if that's what you want." She smiled up at him as he guided her towards the door.

"Thank you Wilt, I appreciate it, but you can watch in here from the window if it suits you better. And honestly, you've been here three years, I think you can call me Mom by now." She stepped out the door, Wilt ducking as he followed onto the porch. She quickly headed down the stairs and to the driveway, briskly getting into her car to avoid getting wet. Wilt watched as she started the engine, waving with a smile as she pulled out and targeted the school as her destination. He dropped his hand, concern returning as he gazed down the sidewalk for any sign of a humanly shape running towards the house. When reality convinced him that there was none, he finally pulled his thoughts together and stepped back into the household, shivering slightly from the cold. Surely Jodie would wait for her mother to come pick her up, or get a ride from one of her friends. She wouldn't be out in this weather...Wilt mentally attacked himself for doubting Jodie, his creator and best friend for three years. Trust should of been impossible to avoid by now, as he was sure that was the standard of any imaginary friend who's had such and such a time with their creator. Why was he doubting someone he knew so well?

A faint laughter was tingling in his ears as Wilt mentally attacked himself again for even divulging his thoughts of doubt further. He glanced down the hallway, looking for the visible glow of a television screen reflecting off of the walls. When there was none, he lept up, turning towards the window. Two figures jogged up the porch, before the sound of rain came through the door as it opened. Jodie slid in, drenched in the horrid weather, followed by a slightly taller male figure shaking his short wet hair about. Wilt stared at them, before breaking out of his trance.

" Jodie! Thank goodness you're alright, your mother just went out to the school to find you." He said breathlessly, kneeling down to Jodie's height. She was still chuckling, as was the boy behind her. He had a few bottles, wrapped by soaked bags in his arms. She looked up at Wilt, her smile crooked with her hair washed in front of her eyes.

" 'Ey Wilt." She slurred. Wilt cringed, however unvisible as her voice reached his ears. It was deeper, and barely surpassed as being coherent. " This is Mitch. Friend from school." She coughed, before heading past him and sloppily pouring herself onto the sofa, the cushions sucking up the water that spilled off of her. Mitch waved half-heartedly, before following and crashing beside her on the sofa. Wilt stood and cocked his head. Something wasn't right.

"I'm sorry, but you really should go and change your clothes Jodie, you're going to catch a cold." Mitch raised his head as Wilt spoke to her, and looked him up and down, before making a disgusted face. He took a swig of whatever was in the bagged bottle, and turned to Jodie sourly.

"You 'ave a stupid imaginary friend?" He growled. Jodie shrugged her shoulders carelessly.

" Not like I do anything with 'im. We can get rid of him if you want..." She smiled coyily, yet drunkly. Wilt stood still, wondering whether a step back or a step forward would be wise, struck frozen by what Jodie was saying. Mitch abruptly rose, dropping the bagged bottle onto the sofa, and headed into the kitchen as a dark liquid leaked from the bottle next to Jodie on the flowers. Wilt's mouth dropped open slightly.

"...Jodie...what have you been drinking?" He finally decided to step forward, placing a hand on her shoulder as the a drawer slid open, and items were clanged onto the service behind him. She shouted, yanking away from him and glared up at him angrily.

"Don't touch me." She shot through clenched teeth. Wilt pulled his arm back, before setting his foot down.

"Jodie, I'm really sorry, I'm calling your mother. You need some serious help." He turned but stopped, frozen in his tracks as Mitch stood back up, a large butcher's knife twirling in his hand, and other various kitchen utensils skewed about the counter. His eyes widened slightly, a smile being produced across his face widely, creating the eerie sensation that he was equalivent to that of a cheshire cat. Wilt stepped back, glancing towards the phone that was sitting near Mitch on its stand. Mitch followed his eye gaze, and then hurled the butcher's knife towards the phone, knocking it completely off the hook and sending it with a loud bang to the floor. The dial tone slowly droned out of the earpiece, filling the silence with an awkward resolution, like that out of a horror movie. The bang shocked Wilt into his senses, and he turned, but Jodie grabbed his leg and tugged back, causing the imaginary friend to slam into the floor. He huffed as the breath left his body, leaving him slightly dazed, but quickly shook his head and flipped onto his back, trying to pull his leg out of Jodie's grip. Her grin was similar to that of Mitch's.

"You want to know who needs help? Some serious help?" She slid closer to him, and glared straight into his eyes. "Everyone. But we just don't get what we want, now do we?" Wilt pulled up his arms.

"I'm sorry Jodie, but you are in need of help, and I'm going to get it!" He shoved her backwards, and scrambled to his feet, ducking through into the dark hallway. Jodie yelped, falling back onto her rump. She shouted out in rage, and sprinted after him. Wilt disappeared into Mrs. Calloway's bedroom, looking around for something, anything that would contact her. Jodie leaped into the room, banging the door against the wall as she charged at Wilt. He briskly manuvered around her, and headed right back out the door and down the hall. He looked back, hoping that Jodie wouldn't hurt herself, but at the same time fearing for himself. As he emerged from the hallway, a heavy pain sliced through his knee and he yelled, falling forward. Mitch held up the bloodied butcher knife, satisfied at the gash he had created in Wilt's leg. Pressing his foot down on the wound, he forced Wilt over onto his back. Wilt whimpered, trying to pull away, but the pain became greater the more pressure Mitch applied. Jodie stepped up behind him, a look of murder on her face. Mitch threw his other foot straight into Wilt's chest, knocking the air out of the friend. He choked, and attempted to shove Mitch off; however, Jodie had already grabbed a hold of his wrists, and was holding them together as Mitch once again relieved Wilt of any breath he had left. Dizzy, Wilt continued to struggle, pushing himself back as much as the pain and his lungs would allow him...until he backed right into a wall. Mitch stepped up to him, grabbing him by the throat and yanking him upwards.

"You're honestly going to make me believe that you considered this weakling a friend?" Mitch spat at Jodie. Jodie retorted, punching him roughly in the side. Wilt grasped at Mitch's grip, attempting to pry him off desperately before he lost conciousness.

"He wasn't my damn friend you bastard. He just works 'round the house. Do you honestly think I would even care to stick around him?" She yanked the knife from his free hand, and held it up to Wilt's cheek. Wilt froze, still hanging onto Mitch's wrist, as the blade lightly pressed against his fur.

"He's no different then those idiots we burned in the schoolyard." His eyes widened at the shrill cry of an ambulance racked through his brain. Jodie and this Mitch we're on more then those drinks. Something had completely changed Jodie, if not the both of them, for the worse. Were they the cause of the accident? Wilt thought, but it disappeared from his mind as Mitch's grip grew tighter, locking off any air from reaching his lungs. He kicked his foot out, the other in too much pain to even move at this point, but it proved futile as Jodie easily slipped around it. She raked the blade across his face, surprisingly leaving a small cut on both sides of his cheeks. She raised the blade over her shoulder. "But I'm out of gasoline. Any other ideas Mitchy?" She cooed at the boy. Mitch released his grip on Wilt's throat, and Wilt sucked in a bubble of air, slipping down the wall onto the floor, dazed and panting.

" Here's one. Wherever it hits...well. It hits obviously." Wilt lifted his head at Mitch's voice, but it was lost as a whistling sound, followed by Wilt's own shriek rocked his eardrums. He jerked his head towards the source of the pain, only to find the large butcher's knife halfway through his arm, pinning it into the wall. Tears began to form in his eyes as he tried to find his voice.

"St-t-Stop! JODIE!" He cried, and Jodie came forward, yanking the knife back and out of the wall with vigor. He yelped loudly, the pain becoming excruciating in his left arm. He shook his head, trying to stay awake, for that was perhaps his only chance of staying alive. He no longer had any feeling but pain in his left arm, and the sweet welcome bell of darkness was echoing in the back of his mind. He felt Mitch's hand around his throat again, and felt the force of Jodie's foot and the knife again as the air was knocked out of him, and he slipped into the darkness.

Wilt tossed in distress, and opened his eyes, however the darkness still seemed to consume him. He blinked multiple times, and found no trace of pain, but instead, the comforting warmth of a quilt about him, and a slight flicker of light seeping in through the window. Across from him, a nest rustled around as Coco attempted to become satisfied with her position, a slight murmur of 'coco' wafting through the air. Eduardo grunted, lying on his stomach stretched out, and Bloo was underneath of his pillow, thankfully, blocking out the mutters of fame and fortune, and the awful snoring escaping his lips. Wilt sighed heavily, staring at the underside of Bloo's bed. It was once his, but when Bloo and Mac came into the home, he had given up his place so that Bloo had a comfortable first night. Now, two years after putting up with Bloo's selfish personality, he regetably wished he would of known better. He slapped himself mentally for that thought however, as he would do anything for anybody. He had done so ever since he had been created, and even after the 'event'. The dream taunted him, but it was definitely distressing when it came on nights previous to Adopt-A-Thought Saturdays. He had been adopted three times, but always winded up back here. His creator, Jodie, had been a complete unfortuante accident, and the both of them were sorely depressed after the incident. Mrs. Calloway had came home in the middle of it, and was able to somehow save him and bring him here. He was unconcious for three hours, Frankie had said, and he was pretty beat up. When ripping the knife out of the wall, with his arm damaged by it, Jodie had sliced directly through the bone, cutting his left arm off completely. Somewhere, Mitch had taken a rolling pin to his left eye, rendering him blind to a degree. The cuts had been sewn up, and the gash was luckily just a scratch in his knee.

Ever since that time, he had always been asked by any new friends or families what had happened. While Jodie may of been responsible for it, he'd never hold that against her. She was under the influence of cocaine, drinking, and intoxicants. The mass consumption had her in a coma for weeks after the incident, loss in guilt for Wilt and depression for the burning of her schoolmates. Mitch had really been a bystander, not even an acquaintance to her until the influence of drugs.

He let out a breath again, thankful that he was able to continue doing so. Sliding out from under the bed, Wilt silently stepped over to the window, taking one finger and gently pushing it aside to get an idea of what time it was. Wilt yelped unconciously as the bright sun of the morning hit his pupils, and he instantly raised an arm to shield them.

" MORNING!" Frankie exploded through the door, enthuastically brandishing papers and quills of all sorts. "Guess what today isss!" She grinned towards the occupants of the room. Bloo snorted harshly, hating the interruption, but even more hating the soon-to-come. Eduardo abruptly sat up, shrieking in terror at her presence. He shivered underneath the covers, staring at her.

"Is it the day of muerte?"
"...No."
"Potatos?"
"No."
"No more breakfast?"
"No."
"Then what is it!" Eduardo shouted, shivering even more horribly. Wilt stepped away from the window.

"It's Adopt-A-Thought Saturday, Eduardo." He said with a smile towards his friend. Eduardo sat up, frozen.
"Then...Then that means...I'll never see my amigos again!" He cried. Wilt patted his back, consoling the purple giant.
"It's okay Eduardo! If you do get adopted, we'll still be able to write to you.""Yea, and we'll even send you some potatos...but it's 24.99 for shipping and handling!" Bloo prodded his pillow, a wide grin on his face. "No, make that 34.99. Have to add taxes you know." He crossed his arms nodding in a serious manner. Frankie, Eduardo, and Wilt glared at him. "Whaaat? Okay fine, no tax since you're an imaginary friend." The blue blob started. Frankie rolled her eyes.
"I'm going to go set up the registration tables."
"I'll help you out, Frankie." Wilt grinned, following her out the door.
"Sounds great!"
"But who's gonna make my breakfast?" Bloo screeched out the doorway. Frankie snorted and turned towards Bloo, glaring.
"Make it yourself! Pancakes are in the microwave!" She turned and stomped off, Wilt following behind her, his sneakers squeaking along the wood.

"But I want waaaffffleeesss!"

Upcoming Chapter: Threads to Bare Witness

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent night
Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light...

Evanescence - Imaginary