My Imaginary Friend

When I was about 5 I developed an imaginary friend called david mitchell. The only problem was he was mean. And when I say mean I mean just that! He would push me down the stairs, I would end up with handprints on my body and they were always little hands. Everything would happen when we were upstairs playing in the bedroom on the west side of the house. My mom thought I was hurting myself for attention. I kept telling her it was David Mitchell. She would say "tell him to go away and leave you alone" and I would respond with, "I can't he hurts me even more when I say that." She was working one night and the nurse she was working with lives a couple miles down the road from us, and her family had been in the area for a really long time.

My mom started talking about how I was hurting myself for attention and blaming it on my imaginary friend named David Mitchell and she was going to have to take me to a child psychologist to see why. And Peg said, "Oh Joanie, don’t you know there was a little boy out in that area that had died of pneumonia when he was around 5 or 6." My mom believes in everything supernatural but she just brushed it off and didn’t think it could be a ghost. Well I eventually outgrew my imaginary friend and I don't really have any kind of memory about when he left, I had honestly forgotten about him until I did a research project my senior year for English. A group of my friends and I went around to several haunted places in Indiana, and did a report on them. There's an old cemetary across the creek from my parents house. And just driving past it one night on our way home from another haunted place, one of my friends wanted to stop and take some pictures to see if we could catch anything on film.

I walked in the cemetary and was drawn to this one headstone for some reason, I didn’t stop walking till I got to a head stone a couple of rows into the cemetary. When I looked down and shone my flashlight on it I could make out the name, David Mitchell. From the dates on the headstone I could make out that the person burried there was 6 years old. Needless to say as soon as I saw the name I instantly thought about my imaginary friend who had been so mean. I couldn't believe it, I had to get out of there. I sat in the car the whole time everyone else took pictures. There's something in that bedroom at my parents house, I had to move downstairs to another bed room when I was a sophomore in high school because I couldn’t sleep. I would just sit up in bed and look around because it sounded like there was someone playing on the floor.

Well my little brother stays in that room now. (I'm 21 now so everything happened to me WAY before my brother was born, we're 16 years apart) He's 5 and won't stay in his room by himself. Won't play in it, Nothing. If one of our parents are upstairs in their room he's ok but he will not go upstairs alone. The other day my mom and him were cleaning his room and my mom decided to take a break and have a cup of coffee, and told my little brother she would be right back up. He told her he didn’t want her to go because he wanted to play and if she went downstairs he would have to go too. When my mom asked why he couldn't stay by himself he said he didn't want to, she asked him why and he said he was scared of his room.

She asked him why again and he said because of the little boy ghost and the girl ghost. Now my little brother is VERY sensitive, my mom won't even let him watch casper because it scares him. And when she told me I asked if they had watched something about ghost or something like that recently and my mom said that all he's been watching is power rangers and digimon because he just had his tonsil's taken out. So far he hasn't said any names, just that a little boy ghost and a girl ghost come and play with his toys. My mom is going to wait til he brings it back up to talk to him about it, but I'm really really curious as to whether it's David Mitchell or not. I have a bunch of other stories that I will share later, but thank you for taking the time to read this one.

By: roberta.kahl@us.army.mil