A Novel by
Book ONE of SEVEN in the Series;
World of I m a g i n a t i o n…
Being re-Edited, re-Formated & re-Designed Cover Layout.
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TIMMY WALKED into yet another door… He never listened to those around him; reading books while walking… that’s dangerous. For a second he was stunned, sitting eventually. Herbert didn’t tell him that there was a door in front of him––better jet;
“Herbert did you open the door so that I would walk into it?”
Off course, no one else could hear the conversation and they didn’t really care anymore.
“It’s a phase that would pass.” Doctor Owens told his parents.
But no matter what he told them, Victoria and Donald became very worried as Timmy’s injuries intensified over the last two months. Even though this, they couldn’t get Timmy to stop playing with Herbert.
“It’s understandable, for an only child like him to react this way. He might just be crying out for help or attention. He’s lonely and he is possibly unable to tell you how he feels. Because most of the times children do not know how to express their own feelings about this, for he must not know what is wrong himself.” another Psychologist told them.
Donald and Victoria struggled, even more, to come to terms with this. Suspecting that there might be something seriously wrong with their son. Not that Timmy was looking worried in the least. It was just that Herbert wasn’t going anywhere.
Timmy got up from the floor and walked with his book under his arm, heading to his room. He needed to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. At twelve years old, he was an easy going boy. He loved reading. With imaginative capabilities of child his age––he would sometimes also sleep with the light on and this was a big joke for Herbert.
Timmy didn’t at all show his wild thoughts and brave side to his parents. It might just shock them. He was a fast runner, getting out of trouble at most times. He had black hair, which came from neither his parents––but within the family though. Having the darkest brown eyes––almost looking black at times, everyone seeing him, were astounded by this look. Still developing, Timmy was the same size as the other boys and girls. He stood firm went things went astray and he needed to help.
“Are you ready?” Victoria asked, sitting down on the bed, reading to her son before he’d drift off to sleep.
Victoria didn’t need to read much before Timmy was fast asleep; the last few weeks were really hard on all of them.
Why he suddenly needed an imaginary friend, was in reality, beyond believe of most of the specialists, who spoke to Timmy and his parents.
The tiredness drew even faster on both Victoria and Donald. They got into bed and were fast asleep in a short time.
They had to move from Chicago; Victoria had at a last earned herself a position at a local television studio in the newsroom. Donald landed a position at an architectural company; each their dream job. Now they had to rent from the Manhattan-based Apartment Company.
Neither of them was as strong, as neither suspected their young son to be. If Timmy didn’t stand next to them, no one would believe he was their son. Even their personalities differed from his. Neither of them was adventurous in the least. Avoiding confrontation at all times.
© 2018 – 2019, Cobus Vermeulen. All rights reserved.