Dixy

The woman stood, looking out into the garden.

She was watching her daughter, who was in a deep and very animated conversation with her invisible friend. It had become quite a habit for the girl of late. She would wander out into the garden looking for her friend. She would sit on the bench and chat, sometimes for the best part of an hour. The whole thing was beginning to worry her, although her husband had insisted that it was just part of growing up. She said that he was usually at work when it happened and didn’t know how far advanced the thing had got. They had actually argued about it. She thought it was high time that she had a chat with her about it.

Her mother approached her when she came in, saying as casually as she could, “Who were you talking to today?”

“That was my friend Dixy,” she replied.

“That’s a nice name, dear. She’s your friend is she?”

“Oh! Yes. She’s really clever and she knows a lot.”

Her mother sighed and got her to sit down with her. “Mummy wants to talk to you about your friend.” Her daughter sat, looking really interested in what her mother was about to say.

“Honey, you know, don’t you, that there really isn’t a friend that you talk to out there, it’s only something you’ve made up.”

Before she could say more, the girl interrupted. “No, mummy, you don’t understand. She is definitely real and I can see her sometimes… when I want to.”

Her mother looked surprised, then shook her head. She went to say more, but was cut off.

“I can prove it to you, if you like. Would you like that?”

Her mother hesitated for a beat, feeling uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. She took a breath and said, “Yes. Alright, dear.”

The girl jumped up, looking excited. She grabbed her mother’s hand and led her to her room.

Standing in front of the mirror, she said, “Dixy, I’d like you to meet mummy!”

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