With Their Wild Imagination

[Echoed]

It's about youth, it's about innocence, it's about faith.
It's about loss.

It's a bit about me. (And how schizophrenic I probably am. *Cackles.*)

---
July 19th, 2002

[font=Arial]I remember when I was younger, in the confines of my pretty pink room, with the kittens and teddy bears all around. There were voices in my ear that were not there, rather from the room next door. People in my brother's room, when he slept and knew of no one there. They were in the walls, I think. And they spoke about me, about something else, to me, at me. I never said a word. And I stayed awake to their noise and fell asleep to it. A man and a woman, I often wondered what they were saying because I could understand what they were saying, I simply couldn't hear it right. Muffled and scuffled voices. I wish I were more attentive. For years and so many nights, I would listen. Sometimes, I was so tired and just wanted them to stop. But they never did. And I would sneak out of my pretty room to crawl into my parents' chamber. To sit on the cold wooden floor, and listen to them sleep. Here, they never spoke. Just in my room. But, in the end, I would always come back and they would greet me with more imaginary words. Tucked in my make-believe themed blankets, I thought of fear at odd seconds during the early morning, just before the birds sang. It was never to be alone in the one place I thought of as my own. To look over my shoulder and find no one there while that unknown subject kept on between my eyes and my ears. But that sentiment was much too harsh for conversational speeches about something I knew nothing of. They never yelled or wept. They just spoke. I never spoke back.

One day, there was silence.

I stayed up all night.

They never came back.

I used to hear voices. I miss them.[/font]

---

Oh, how silly kids are with their wild imagination.

~Echo.

[nath]

Parle-leur а ces petites voix et peut-кtre qu'elles reviendront un jour...

[Uhaku]

so...u miss ur invisible friends? is that why u r an insomniac now, waiting for them to reappear? somehow, i don't know why i feel sad about this.

[Echoed]

I suffered from insomnia for as long as I can remember. But maybe.

They weren't friends. But they were something comforting, while frightening at the same time.

Kinda like the concept of God.

*Chuckles.*

~Echo.

[Arwen]

somehow that made me feel....touched...a bit sad....the end of your childhood...end of innocence...i felt that too, but mine was more recent, i'm only 16.

i like it...i really do