Imaginary Me

By Desmond Shepherd

Sometimes imagination is more than fun. Sometimes it's a protection.

For young Samantha Pruitt, her imagination takes her on great adventures that mask the reality of the life she lives with an abusive stepmother.

Samantha wishes she could find a new home; a new family that will love and care for her. When she learns of a group called the SoSo Servers that might be able to help, she sets out on a quest to find them.

But doing so means Samantha must find a courage deep within herself and overcome the blurred lines of reality and imagination.

Can she succeed?

This emotional, heartbreaking, and inspirational tale will show you how imagination can help overcome the most insurmountable obstacles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Benjamin C. Young
• Release date: Mar 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301694822

Desmond Shepherd

Desmond Shepherd is the author of many novels and short stories, including the emotionally gripping tale Imaginary Me and the episodic series The Permanent Man. He writes for your enjoyment, to stimulate imagination and to provide an escape from your everyday life. He thanks you for reading the fictional journeys he writes.Desmond resides in an old farmhouse in the Philadelphia suburbs with his wonderful wife and three children.

Book preview

1

Who am I? I ask the little girl standing in front of me.

She has hair that reaches her shoulders but sticks out in all directions as if it hasn’t been brushed in a long time. She grabs a few strands and twirls them with her fingers. She smiles wide, opening her eyes with a sparkle. She’s wearing a pink hooded sweater and purple leggings that reach to her calves. Her feet are bare.

You’re Charming, she says.

And who are you? I ask.

I’m the pwincess!

You’re awfully young to be a princess.

Four years old is not young to be a pwincess.

She places her right hand on her hip and pinches her lips tight.

OK. Sorry. I place my hands out to slow her down. Didn’t mean to upset you. But....

The room I’m standing in resembles anything but that of a princess’s bedroom. She knows it, too. A pile of clothes, surely dirty, sits next to a crude shelf that holds more unfolded clothes. The carpeted floor is littered with stains of brown and gray and red and black. Along the ceiling, a light brown stain travels from the one corner down the wall and toward the floor.

This doesn’t look like any place for a princess to sleep. Where’s your bed?

Right there, she says as she points a finger toward the corner of the room opposite the stained wall.

It’s a pile of three sheets. One on the floor, two others above it.

Where’s your pillow?

Right there. She points again, shifting her hand over.

The pillow is a bunched up pile of clothes consisting of two shirts, a pair of pants, and some socks.

Princess, I say. I bend down so I’m eye level with her. What’s happened to your castle?

She rolls her eyes. It seems I’m not adept at seeing things the way she sees. Mainly because she’s not letting me see it. That little tidbit she gave me in an instant.

Charming, she says with a tone of giving me an order. You are my pwince. This is our castle!

She puts both hands in the air in triumph. She walks over to the bed, taps it with her index finger, and says, This is my royal bed. She giggles.

The bed of sheets and pillow of clothes transform before my eyes. In a wavy motion, the sheets rise up, converting into a larger bed with a thick mattress. The cover turns into a maroon cloth with a fuzzy texture. The pillow becomes plush and bursts into a total of three large pillows. On each corner of the bed, posts grow upward with carvings of abstract circular designs in them. A canopy of similar material to the bed cover reaches to each post, draping over top.

I say, it’s certainly a beautiful bed fit for a beautiful princess.

She walks over to the pile of dirty clothes and a shelf and touches them.

This is my favowit, she says. All my clothes and make-up.

The clothes lift into the air and transform into long, formal dresses covered with frills and sparkles. The shelf converts into a tall off-white dresser with a closet to match beside it. Metal hangers float into the room, scooping into the dresses and floating them into the closet where they hang on the rack. Each of the four drawers in the dresser opens and more clothes sweep in, folding neatly before landing in the drawer. The drawer closes on its own, as if an invisible hand pushes it.

On the left side of the dresser, a mirror forms on the wall. An area to sit in front of the mirror, with a wooden chair at just the right height for the princess, also appears. A tabletop protrudes from the wall with an assortment of lipsticks, blush, and other materials for making the princess pretty.

The floor glows gold in a pinpoint at the center of the room and spreads outward. It changes into a flower-covered rug, stretching outward until it reaches each wall of the room.

Now is it a pwincess room? she asks.

Oh definitely, I say. Now what do you want me to do?

I have the need to wait for her command. She blocks off what she wants until she says it. She controls my every action. Makes me whatever she can imagine.

She runs to the bed, jumps into it, and lays flat on her back. Her eyes close tightly, stopping any light from entering. Her clothes turn into a beautiful green dress lined with yellow edges.

Now, she says, you’re the pwince coming to save me. I’m at the highest part of the castle, sleeping. You have to kiss me to wake me up because the evil queen has cast a spell on me.

A glance in the mirror shows my blond, sweeping hair. A chiseled chin and face clean of any beard. My eyes are a bright blue. When I smile, my teeth sparkle white. I’m wearing a red cape, a leather vest, and gray tights with dark shorts. My boots are leather, too.

Ah! My princess, I say. I have traveled through many kingdoms to find you. My horse tired long before me. My journey led me through numerous perils. But I have found you.

I step closer to the princess. She lies asleep. Her eyes flutter as if she will awaken. Her left eye opens quickly and closes. A big smile forms on her face.

What must I do to waken this beauty? I say. Perhaps! Perhaps a kiss on the fair maiden’s lips is all that is needed to wake her from her slumber.

I kneel down beside the bed. The princess stiffens in anticipation of the kiss. I bend downward to kiss her on the lips and awaken her. My lips almost touch hers.

Samantha! a voice yells from outside the bedroom. Samantha Pruitt! Where are you girl? Where are you? The voice grows closer and resembles that of an angry witch.

I turn to the voice, away from the kiss that would awaken the princess. The princess sits up. Her hands tremble at the sound of the woman’s voice.

It’s the evil queen, she whispers. She’s found us. We have to hide.

I grab her hands to steady them and say, Don’t worry, my princess. I’ll keep you safe.

Samantha Pruitt! the evil queen says from not far off. The walls outside thump like thunder. Don’t make me find you.

The room washes away from the royal bedroom to the dirty mess it had been previously.

Come on, the princess says. We got to hide in the cave!

The pile of clothes turns into a dark hole at the base of a large gray mountain. It shrinks in size as it grows further and further away, becoming a pinpoint.

Samantha!

We’ll never get there in time, I say. The cave is too far.

No it’s not. Because you’re my horse that’ll take me there.

Before my eyes, my hands become hooves. My human arms transform into the legs of a dark brown horse. My body elongates and within seconds, I’m standing on four legs. My mane is blond as is my tail.

I snort out some air and shake my head. I try to speak, but my voice comes out as the neighs of a horse.

Don’t worry, she says, you’re a tawking horse.

Through the neighs I blurt out, Hop on, my princess. My voice is deep and commanding. I’ll take you to safety.

The princess hops on my back, grabs onto my mane with her left hand, and pets me with the right. We gallop toward the cave to escape the watchful eye of the evil queen.

2

Samantha, the voice says again.

The evil queen is close. Very close.

The princess grips me tighter as we come to a stop at the cave entrance. She slowly slides off my body and onto the ground.

Come on, she says. We need to get inside.

She heads for the cave, but in my present form, I’m incapable of going inside.

But I’m a horse. Much too large to fit in there, I say.

No. You’re my pwince again.

She touches my nose and I return to the form I had before the evil queen pursued us.

Follow me, the princess says.

She ducks down and crawls into the cave. I follow behind her as commanded, watching my back to make sure the evil queen doesn’t sneak up on us, grab our legs, and drag us out.

The cave is dark except for a pinpoint of light that shines from the entrance. The princess huddles close to me. I wrap my arm around her body as she shivers in fright that the evil queen will discover our hiding spot.

Sing me a song, she says.

What about? I ask.

About the most beautiful pwincess you ever met.

OK. Let me think.

She thinks for me and the words come to mind. I sing them in a whisper.

My beautiful princess

So beautiful

The most beautiful princess

Throughout all the land

No one comes close to her beauty

The song calms her down and she stops shivering, though when I try to move my arm off her, she pulls it back.

The crack of a door slamming open fills the area. If not for the cave dampening the sound, it would pierce our ears until they bled.

She grips me tighter in fear she’ll be pulled away. The footsteps of the evil queen approach, vibrating the floor beneath.

Samantha! the evil queen yells yet again. What did I tell you girl? No playing. You have to pick up this room. You’re a mess you little brat. You hear me. Where are you?

The princess shivers again and lets out a soft whimper. Instinctively, I begin to sing.

My beautiful princess

So beautiful

The most beautiful—

A hand reaches into the cave and grabs at us. It’s twisted and gnarled, cracked at the fingertips with a hairy mole on the index finger’s knuckle. We cower back to avoid its grasp. It reaches in further.

Come here, you brat. I know you’re in there, the evil queen says.

The hand grabs onto the arm of the princess.

I’ve got you now! the evil queen says.

No! the princess screams. Save me, Charming! Save me!

I reach out to grab her legs as she is dragged away. No matter how hard I try, I can’t pull her back. She slips within my grasp. As she does, the cave around us transforms back into a pile of dirty clothes.

I can’t see the evil queen from my spot, but she’s there. She drags the princess from the dirty clothes, yanks on her arm, and pulls her to a standing position.

The princess’s clothes are no longer the beautiful green dress. Instead, she wears what she wore originally—the pink sweatshirt and purple leggings. She’s turned back into the little girl of four-years-old.

What do you think you’re doing? the evil queen yells. You think you can hide from me?

The evil queen’s hand disappears from my view but returns with a loud smack on the right cheek of the princess’s face.

The princess screams in pain. I want to reach out and pull her back to the safety of the cave. I want to stop the onslaught that will come next. But I can’t because like the cave, the princess’s dress, and me turning into a horse, I quickly disappear from the princess’s thoughts.

3

Now, you’ll sip your tea, she says.

OK. I pick up the white teacup. It’s much smaller than my hand. But there’s nothing in it.

You’re so silly, you know that, she says. She twirls her hair with her hand. Of course there is.

I look into the cup. It fills up with a hot brew of tea.

I suppose you’re, right, I say. Do you have honey I can put in it?

Of course, she says.

She picks up an empty plastic bottle. When she does, it fills with thick golden honey. She turns it upside down over my cup and squeezes it. The honey oozes from the narrow opening. An aroma of sweet flowers comes from the tea as she pours the honey in. Better to taste, too.

Thank you, I say.

You’re welcome, she says. Is your chair comfortable?

Why, yes.

She laughs because she knows. It’s not comfortable. It sits a little ways up from the floor. My long legs bend up nearly to my face.

Who am I? I ask her.

You pick a name.

You know I can’t, I say. She has to. She must pick the name. She must give me identity. She knows it, too.

I know. You’re name is Diego.

Diego? Like the cartoon?

I take a drink of the tea, gulping it down.

It’s hot! she says. It’s burning your mouth.

She’s right. The inside of my mouth is seared with pain from the heat. I gasp and wave my hand in front of my face.

Here. She scoops a spoon into a large bowl. Here’s some ice. That should help.

An ice cube forms on the spoon. I grab it with my hands and stick it inside my mouth. My lips curl in a smile and I say with garbled words, Thanks … much better.

"Now, sip the tea. That way you won’t get burnt, Diego."

Yes, ma'am, I say.

You can call me Cindy Squarepants. Thanks for coming to my tea party.

As I sip my tea and she does the same, Cindy’s eyes tighten, almost closing. She glances into the small mirror built into the play tea set tabletop. Around the left eye, she has a dark bluish mark. She touches it lightly.

What’s that? I ask. It looks like it hurts.

Only a little.

How’d you get it?

She leans in toward me as she sets her teacup on the table. The evil queen. She places her finger to her mouth. Don’t tell anyone.

She did that to you? I’m so sorry. I set my teacup down and begin to cry. I wanted to save you, I did.

It’s OK, Cindy says. She gets up from the table, walks over to me, and rubs my back. I know you wanted to help. But the evil queen is stwonger. That’s what she says. She’s way stwonger than me and you.

I know. I know she is, I say through tearful eyes. It doesn’t make it any better.

But do you know what? There’s someone stwonger. Much stwonger.

I sit up straight. She’s hiding it from me. Who can stop the evil queen? It’s someone good, I can tell. Someone that the evil queen fears, too.

Who? I ask with excitement. Who is the queen scared of?

Nope. You have to guess.

Come on, I say. Although I like this little game. Let’s see if I can guess.

Oh boy, Cindy says. It’s like those shows where they spin a wheel and guess the letters. There’s ‘A’ and ‘B’ and ‘Q’ and ‘S’. That’s a clue.

The tea set morphs into a giant table shaped like a circle. Tiles of all different colors cover it. There are numbers on the tiles, but each one makes no sense to me.

The entire room lights up with bright lights and against the far wall, large rectangular