Writing

Jamie’s Friend

I’m not very food at finishing stories, so I have a notebook full of started stories. Maybe one day i’ll finish one, but until then, here’s some scribblings I made a few days ago.

 

He wasn’t alone in the dark. He wasn’t really alone in the light of course, but it was different in the dark. His feeling of being constantly with somebody changed from one of content companionship, to the sickly hot dread that accompanied being followed home or being watched.

Jamie wasn’t an ordinary person, he had a friend who made his life a whole lot different to yours or mine. Jamie can’t see his friend, and neither you nor I would even be aware this friend was in the same room as us, but let there be no doubts about the existence of Jamie’s friend. It most definitely exists, which both as wonderful and fascinating as it is terrifying.

Now without having seen it, and only descriptions from third parties of the terrible and wonderful events of Jamie’s life, it would be almost impossible for me to describe Jamie’s friend to you without first telling you Jamie’s story. So here it is Jamie’s story, in print for the first time outside of a classified file.

 

Jamie never knew his parents, if you’d asked him who his parents were he would have told you about Jennifer and Marcus Armstrong, the couple unfortunate enough to love Jamie, but they were not his true parents, nobody knows who Jamie’s real parents are, and there has been a lot of speculation on how much they might have known about their son, or if they too had a similar experience in life.

The first anybody knows of Jamie was a baby found on the doorstop of the Steadleigh council building. Jamie was but a month old when a Janitor found him on his way out of work and called the social services. Nobody really knows what happened to that janitor, though a lot of rumours surround that  night a man stood outside the council building holding a baby, and was never really seen again.

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