Per usual, you’d just gotten into a fight with your parents. You didn’t understand why they were so insistent on Josh not being real. You could see him, hear him…touch him. God, maybe you really were going completely insane. Existence was starting to blur into figments of imagination and reality, the line between the pair being almost invisible.

The chilly air held a stench of previous rain, dirt soaked into mud, tree leaves dripping with crisp water. Typical September. You liked the rain though. It signified growth and change. Something that your life had yet to consist of.

Trudging through the forest behind your house, you clutched your jacket tighter around your form in an almost futile attempt to gather warmth. The treehouse was nearing. Well- your treehouse. Yours being your own and Josh’s. It’s a little hideout, away from other people, judgement, and fear.

You were no longer terrified when with him.

Upon your arrival, your red-tinted hands clutched the ladder, the old wood creaking under the weight of your steps. The noise must’ve alerted Josh of your presence because you were quick to notice his head poking out from the entrance, a joy-filled grin plastered across his lips. His mood seemed rather green-yellow today.

“Here, give me your hand. I’ll pull you up.” He offers, reaching a hand down for you to grab, “You take too long.” He mutters lightheartedly.