by Cindy Abbate

Created on: August 17, 2009

Setting: A child's room in a large, older house. It sits in an established neighborhood with tree lined streets and a park at the end of the block. The room is decorated for a boy with sports curtains, a train set and various action figures. It should have a comfortable feel to it yet most children prefer to play outside or elsewhere in the house where they say "it's warm". Jacob, the room's owner, and his Mother, Theresa sit on his bed. Jacob is ready for bed. He sits on his bed cross legged with his arms folded across his chest.

Jacob: Why not?

Theresa; (She is holding a children's book in her hands) Because you're nine and can sleep in your own bed. Honey, I'll leave the door open a crack.

Jacob: That only helps when you guys are still awake. But after the house is dark it doesn't stop stuff. Alice always comes and she's mad at me.

Theresa : You're also getting too old for an imaginary friend. I could understand when you were younger and we lived out in the country. But you have lots of friends now.

Jacob: And none of them want to play in here, do they? (He looks up at her and spreads his arms apart, palms up) Why would I make up a friend to be mad at me? Ron was make believe. Alice is real. She's angry because this was her room and all her stuff is gone.

Theresa: You mean the boxes that were in the closet? (A sudden shiver runs through her. He couldn't have known about them. He stayed at his grandparents until they were moved. And when she thought about it they were a girl's things)

Jacob: Yeah. Only even before that - she had her bed and some sappy pink quilt. Lots of stupid dolls and some goofy looking , floppy eared dog thing.

Theresa: Maybe we shouldn't read tonight. You have too much imagination for your own good. Stop all this or you'll never fall asleep.

Jacob: (Rolling his eyes and exhaling loudly in exasperation) It's not imaginary. She shows me pictures in my head when she's yelling at me. Imaginary is like cartoons and video games and stuff. I know the difference.

Theresa: Don't make a face like that at me. You're lucky your Dad's not home from work (She steps away from the bed and puts the book down. She has all intentions of turning off the light and telling him to go to sleep.)

Jacob: Great! Now she's here all ready. She says she's not afraid of you anymore and to give her back her dog. Mom, (he looks up at her and half whispers) did you take that goofy thing?

Theresa: (She feels her mouth drop

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