“When I was between the ages of three and six, I had three imaginary friends. Two of these friends were the usual little kid stuff. They were invisible and friendly, and I only heard them in my head.
My third friend, she was not invisible. I could see her. I called her ‘Bra-and-underpants girl’ because that’s all she was wearing.
I can still see her in my mind clear as day. She looked almost black and white. Her black lacy underwear contrasted with her pale skin, and she had what I thought was dirt around her frazzled blonde hair. I can’t even wrap my head around how I had even been able to come up with a friend like that at the age of three.
While my other two imaginary friends were nice, she wasn’t. She wasn’t mean, just really sad, constantly. If asked her where she lived and she’d say ‘those woods’ and point to forest behind my house. I’d tell her she could stay in my house but she’d always answer, ‘I can’t.’”