The Closet Friend

I had a closet friend named Sophia when I was seven. I met her when we moved to a new house in a different town. She looked no older than I was at the time, and she was playing with a teddy bear inside the closet of my new room. The night I met Sophia, I asked if I could join her. She smiled and said yes, and we played until I fell asleep.

I woke up the next day and went downstairs to find my parents panicking and on the phone. When they saw me approaching, they rushed to my side and asked me where I was. I said I was in the closet, but they didn’t believe me. My parents said they checked the closet and every other inch of the house and couldn’t find me. I didn’t know what to say other than the fact that I played with my new friend.

I could tell at the time that they didn’t believe me. They said it was alright, and that they were just glad I was safe. Mom urged me to not hide anywhere at night and to only sleep in my bed. I agreed, although I didn’t always listen.

I was admitted to a nearby school a week later. I asked Sophia if she would join me, but she said she could never leave the house. However, she offered me her teddy bear. I smiled and accepted her gift. I found myself being bullied by a group of children on the first day of school. They pushed me over and kicked me before stealing Sophia’s teddy bear. But then, something strange happened: the teddy bear broke free from their grip and fought back. The bullies screamed and fled the scene.

I was summoned to the principal’s office over the matter and was detained until my parents arrived. Afterwards, other children who were being bullied started flocking to me for protection. Two more similar incidents occurred in the month that followed and the town soon began to think I was a witch. My parents decided to move again. I never saw Sophia or her teddy after that until thirty years passed.

I saw an advertisement for a house on sale and noticed that it was the same house I had met Sophia in. I bought it and moved back in, wondering whether I’d see Sophia again. To my surprise, she was right there in the closet, still looking the same as she did before. Sophia recognised me the second she saw me, but she had no smile on her face like she did before.

Sophia said she was sad that I left, and that she had no one to talk to for so long. I apologised for leaving her behind back then and explained how I had no choice in the matter. She forgave me and said she was just glad that I was back. Then I asked Sophia something I was afraid to ask when I was a child: I asked her how she died.

Sophia said she was murdered by her stepfather a decade before my parents and I moved into the house. Her body was buried deep in the woods. I got from her the location where she was buried and reported it to the police. Fortunately for me, one of the girls who stuck by my side due to the bullying issue was the new Chief of Police. She agreed to look into it, and they found Sophia’s body within a couple of days.

Sophia’s stepfather was still alive at the time and was arrested the following week. Once we gave her a proper burial, Sophia thanked me for everything I had done for her. I thanked her back for being my best friend when I had no one. Our last goodbye was a bittersweet one, but I was glad that she was finally able to move on. Sophia’s stepfather was sentenced to life in prison within a month.