Candy
As children, we start out knowing with absolute certainty that we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want. We don’t let anything save…
Author: Paige Standiford
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As children, we start out knowing with absolute certainty that we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want. We don’t let anything save…
As children, we start out knowing with absolute certainty that we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want. We don't let anything save for the laws of physics stop us, and even then, we like to challenge it. We love with our entire hearts, and we chase happiness like a starry-eyed toddler would chase a butterfly.
I had never known anything other than pure, unconditional love. I've watched and loved as Carly followed the childish optimism that consumed her heart, gentle and untouched from the world's unnecessary cruelty. My entire life, each and every day, I've stood beside my human, protecting her, helping her. She created me, but in a way, I've helped to create her as well. I've watched her grow into the wonderful person who she is today.
My first clear memory was her face, her eyes wide with joy and a goofy grin across her face. I knew at that moment I would do anything for her. She had let out a bubbly giggle, declaring my name to be Candy. It was fitting, with my bubblegum pink tufts of fur, which were softer than fresh cotton candy from the fair.
I had worried when I'd overheard the adults- they described me as imaginary, pretend. I understood that they couldn't see me, but I also understood that Carly and I's friendship was stronger than any I had seen, and that the love I felt for her was anything but pretend. I was eternally grateful that.
We did a lot of things growing up, my human and I. For the first few months, her favorite thing to play with had been dolls. I had seen her staring longingly at the Barbies in the toy aisle, just as every kid growing up had- the dolls' long blonde hair and plethora of fashionable clothing promising endless hours of fun. I had wanted nothing more than to take each and every one from the shelf and give it to her, to see her smile.
I never understood when the adults took Carly's hand and lead her away from the Barbies, especially when they had told her to pick out a toy and it was so clear that they were the ones she chose. I don't think they understood. They would always lead my human and I to a few aisles down, filled with Legos, toy guns, and similar things. I remember the first time it happened, seeing the dismay on her face. It had broken my heart. I remember quickly glancing around, desperate to return that amazing smile to her face. I did the first thing I could- I grabbed her hand and pointed to an action figure in a box on the bottom shelf.
I didn't know what character the figure was meant to be, and if I'm being honest, I don't think Carly did either. She loved it, though, and whenever the strange adults lead her back to those aisles, she always picked out similar toys. It got to the point that they were close to the only type of toy she owned.
Carly and I would play with them all day. The adults and packaging had always called them 'action figures', but Carly and I quickly came to an agreement- they were dolls.
Her two favorite dolls had been Captain America and Iron Man. We had a whole story for the two, and one day she proudly announced to her parents that they were getting married.
Soon after that, the dolls disappeared. I'm not sure what happened to them, but seeing her hysteria when she discovered it was the first time I understood what heartbreak was.
After that, we spent a lot of time outside. She had never directly said it, but I think she was just trying to get away from the adults. I didn't understand their peculiar behavior, and I don't think Carly did either. They were always calling her Carlos and nagging at her that she needed a haircut. It didn't make sense. She was happy as she was. Why did they want that to change?
It was okay, though, because we had a wonderful time outside. We found so many games to play- running through the forest, pretending to be brave princesses and lady knights, walking along the river bank looking for mermaids, and looking for hidden treasure around town.
One day, we had found the best treasure of all. It was the most precious, giving my human back the happiness that the adults had tried to steal her: Two new best friends. One was a boy, Marvin. He was like our Captain America and Iron Man dolls. The other was a girl, Ally.
Ally and Marvin didn't play with me, but that was okay. Carly and I had become very good at sharing, and I could share my human. I think they were like the adults, though. They couldn't see me.
From then on, Carly spent a lot of time with Ally and Marvin during the day, and I sat patiently, waiting for my turn. Sometimes I thought I had noticed my fur turning a dusty rose color, but I figured it was my imagination. After all, whenever it was time for Carly to go home and we spent the rest of the night playing, just her and I, I was bubblegum pink.
Sometimes it felt lonely, watching them play, but then my favorite thing would happen, reminding me why I was being so patient: Carly would smile her signature goofy grin, or laugh, and my heart would explode like fireworks. I could tell how happy Ally and Marvin were making her, and that was all that mattered.
Ally had invited Carly (and Marvin) over on her eighth birthday, which was only a few weeks before Carly turned the same age. Ally had gotten a child's play-makeup kit, and the two of them had given each other makeovers that night. I think that was the happiest I had ever seen Carly.
Sometimes, when the adults weren't around, Carly would borrow Ally's clothes. It pained me that I couldn't give Ally a huge hug and thank her for making my human happy.
As time passed, Carly and Ally spent a lot more time together than Carly and I did. I didn't complain, wanting only the best for my human.
On Carly's ninth birthday, Ally gave her a new bracelet. It proudly declared that they were best friends. I remember when Carly had promised we would be best friends for ever and ever. You could only have one best friend- after all, that's what best meant.
I left the room when I saw that. I'm not sure if Carly noticed. I didn't want her to see me being selfish. That was the first time that I ever cried.
Carly was happy, I remember telling myself. That was all that mattered. Looking back, I realize I sounded like a broken record.
Around that time was when I discovered that imaginary friends- or at least, imaginary monsters like me- changed color as they grew older. I was the same dusty rose as I thought I had been before. I never turned bubblegum pink again, but that was okay. I was still me.
One day, I overheard Carly telling Ally and Marvin that they were her first real friends. It reminded me of when she was six, about a year after I had come into existence. I had overheard the adults whispering about me, saying horrible things about how I wasn't real and Carly needed a real friend. She had walked over to me, giving me a wonderfully big hug.
"It's okay, Candy. You're real to me, and you'll always be my bestest and very real friend," she had reassured me.
I found myself wondering if she still remembered that day.
Today's Carly's tenth birthday. She's so different than she had been when I first met her. She was like a caterpillar who was finally bursting out of its cocoon, eager to show the world her true and beautiful self. She finally got clothes that looked like Ally's rather than Marvin's. Her hair was long, too. She had never listened to the adults when they told her to cut it, and I'm so happy she didn't. The adults didn't seem too happy, which made no sense. Their daughter was finally happy. They should rejoice. I think they're getting more used to it, though.
This morning there was a present on the table from her mom and dad, the main adults. In it had been a real, actual doll. I cheered, excited for her, but I don't know if she heard me. She forgot to actually show me the doll, too.
It's weird how differently humans and their imaginary friends age. While Carly was a beautiful butterfly, I feel like a caterpillar crawling back into its cocoon. Last night I noticed I had turned an even paler shade of pink. Today, I would almost say I looked like a transparent ghost, if I didn't know any better.
As children, we start out knowing with absolute certainty that we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want. Carly knows this, and she's becoming an amazing young girl. I'm so proud of her. She's smart and funny. She's also independent, I realize, taking a deep breath. I could see myself in the mirror across the room. I was hardly a light haze now. She's independent, and I've taught her as much as I possibly can. Now it's her turn to learn on her own.
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