The Little Green Man

When I was kid, like most kids, I had imaginary friends. I don't know why, I mean, I had siblings, a big family, you know, the family dog. What I'm trying to say is, I had a lot of people around me all the time, I didn't need the extra attention. I guess my mind just ran and ran, and considering our minds are infinite, I had a lot of learning to do. 

My first imaginary friend was the The Little Green Man. He was a funny little green guy who spoke in weird sounds, constantly causing mischief around the house. He came to me randomly one Saturday morning while I was sitting watching cartoons. He was a prankster, who loved pissing off my parents. He would switch the salt with the sugar, and vice versa, as well as unpeel all the bananas at night so in the morning my dad would wake up to mushy, gross bananas for his cereal. I never considered myself a prankster or anything like that, but they pinned it all on me. Most nights I was sent to my room even though, I swear, I didn't do anything. It wasn't me. The Little Green Man was trying to frame me. I didn't understand it. I begged and pleaded that he was real, but no parent wants to hear that their kid is seeing things, so off to the parade of doctors I went. 

Years later, my imaginary friends all were since forgotten and The Little Green Man faded away. But I was force to continue my weekly therapist appointments anyway. I would say most of my formative years were spent sitting in a big leather chairs across from doctors either telling me I had border-line personality disorder or that I just had an overactive imagination. I wholeheartedly believe neither are the case. I'm a late-20 year old guy who sits in a cubical, all day, making cold calls to people who hate me, selling them something they hate even more, if that were even possible. Imagination is something that I lost many years ago.

When I was little I believed The Little Green Man was real, I really did. Then, as I grew up, with all the medication I was prescribed, I realized that it was just a cry for help. That's all it was. I was a kid trying to cope with a lack of attention. I was sick and I got better...until yesterday. 

I was sitting at work inputting nonsense into my computer when out from behind my computer screen walked The Little Green Man. I jolted up from my chair. Sensing the distress, I heard my coworker ask if I was okay from behind his cubicle wall. Trying to hide The Little Green Man, I slammed a coffee cup over him, trying to trap him. I told my coworker I was fine, just a little stressed. All of a sudden a telephone started to ring causing The Little Green Man to mimic it. I quickly scooped up the cup, trapping him under a stack of paperwork and file folders. 

Cut to a few blocks and few avenues later. I am now sitting on the subway. I could feel myself losing control. Where were my pills. But before I could swallow my prescription I began to hear The Little Green Man begin to go off again. I looked all around me, people were hearing it, people where reacting to him. The Little Green Man was real! All those years of self-meditcating, the prescribed Zoloft, Xanax, all of it, was all just suppressing a truth that was currently sitting in a coffee cup. 

I am now sitting in my kitchen figure all of this out. This is a letter trying to tell anyone who will listen. My imaginary friend is real and I have no idea what to do.