It was only 20 years ago; I was 13 years of age. There was nothing more I missed than my best friend, Toby. Mom and Dad didn't know him though. He was always over, but for some odd reason, only I was able to see him. He passed away not too long ago. That didn't stop him from visiting me. I visited his house often, knowing it was empty. Every time I spoke about my best friend Toby, my parents ignored me. Mom was convinced that he was my imaginary friend. He was invisible; I sometimes wished I had the powers to be invisible as well. Toby told me I shouldn't think like that though. He said the reason he became invisible was because his family didn't love him very much so they hit him a lot. One day, Toby’s parents got very angry at him and hit him so much that his heart stopped working and he became invisible- ever since then, I was the only person who saw him. My family must not like me very much either then, because there were so many times that I was sure my heart was about to stop too.


"Julie!" by the raspy, deep voice I knew it was my dad calling my mom again. Something must have been wrong. His voice didn't seem too pleasant, though it rarely ever was.


I knew it was time for me to leave the house again, so I put on my worn out running shoes and headed towards Toby's home. As I walked through the doors of the house that my best friend lost his life in, I grieved as the flashbacks started to occur again. I watched as the torturous last moments of his life were revealed to me. I saw visions of what Toby went through; abused and isolated. The house was very pretty when I first walked in, but as the flashbacks occurred I watched the house transform. The furniture was everywhere. There were blood stains and dents all over the walls and floors. I watched Toby as he laid there after he was abused. He had black and purple bruises covering every part of his fragile body. I tried to explain what I saw to those who surrounded me, but they thought it was me that was going insane. No one understood the pain I went through as I repeatedly had to watch my best friend live his final moments in nothing but pure agony.


My very weak body could only handle so much. I started to shake from witnessing the cruelty Toby went through. I decided that I had seen enough.


For some odd reason, regardless of how much pain I had to go through, Toby's house was one place that I couldn't leave behind. For that reason, I endured all the discomfort the house had given me and always went back.


I walked into my house very slowly trying to listen for any noises, just so I could run right back out. As I reached mid way into my home, the floors started to creek and my stomach started to twist, turn and rip apart on the inside. It was awfully quiet- that was a first. I tip toed quietly in the direction of the stair case.


"Lucas..." My heart started to beat extremely fast and loud. I was sure that people could hear it from a meter away. "...Where the hell have you been?" my mom’s voice was far more than a simple shout at this point.


"I-I-I" I couldn't manage to get an answer out and right then I heard him.


"Julie!" His voice frightened me.


"What does the stupid kid want now? Did I not ask you for something?" His footsteps got louder; it hit harder on the floor as he got closer to me. It felt as if the whole house was vibrating. I knew he was in close proximity and so my eyes flickered straight to the ground immediately. I never looked at him- into his piercing grey eyes that held nothing but anger in them.


"I asked you what the stupid kid wanted," I heard a lashing noise and looked up. I found a long strip of fresh bruise on my mom’s face and a leather belt in my father’s hands.


My face started to boil and I started panting. I couldn't control my actions as my fists clenched together at the sides of my body. All he did was look at me and laugh.


"What tough guy? You think you’re tough?"


He started to push me. At first the pushes were little, then I looked up at him eyes filled with anger. The smirk on his face was wiped off. He pulled his arms closer towards his body and in one push sent me across the room. My temple hit the corner of the coffee table and I felt an excruciating pain coming from above my right eye-brow.


My blonde hair was touching the top of my eye lids. I felt a gush of water trickling down my crystal blue eyes. I blinked and I noticed the water was red. It wasn't water, it was blood. I tried to run to my bedroom. If only I could get to that corner in my closet; my private get-a-way. As I jumped up the first three stairs, I felt a tight grasp around my ankle. He yanked my feet and my face hit each step on the way down. I got loose and ran into the far side of the house. As I rubbed my fingers across my face, I felt the tender bruises. I touched my upper lip and looked at my fingers; I saw the purple blood fresh from my lip. I was sure there were also bruises all over my rib cages. He had fresh new purple and black marks to cover over the ones that were slightly fading away. I forced myself into a corner wrapping my arms around my shaking knees. My tears traced the indented creases on my face.


I heard stomps coming close to me again; I look straight ahead to catch his shadow. His belt in his hands again. His half smirk flashing across his face. I started to squint my eyes and count.


One. Two. Three. By the time I got to twenty I was convinced something must have happened. He should have been here by now. I looked up and he's nowhere near me.


Then I saw my best friend. As the adrenaline rushed through Toby, I saw all the blood in Toby's face rush down to his body. He was aggravated with the thought that a parent could hurt their own kid in such a foul manner. At first, I didn't know what I was supposed to say to him to make him stop.


"Toby...” was all I managed to get out.


At that moment I realized why he was so mad. He went through the same agonizing pain that I went through and his led to his death. The longer he stood there, the angrier he got. Before he could stop himself, the room started to shake. At first it was subtle, but as the seconds passed, the ground started shaking harder. I wondered many times why he stuck around, and it wasn’t until the day my life almost ended that I realized what he was waiting for. He couldn’t leave me in the state that I was in. Toby of all people understood why I trembled at the sight of my parents, why I stayed awake gripping on to my blankets, and shutting my eyes so tight that they hurt every night. He couldn’t leave me to face that pain alone.


Toby finally calmed down.


I gradually got to my feet, knees still shaking. I looked in the far corner, and found my dad lying on the floor. His feet were over top of my mom’s chest. They were both so still. I walked over and noticed that both of them were not breathing.


They were dead.


I started trembling; I fell back to my knees not knowing whether this made me feel a sense relief or pain.


I glanced up and Toby looked at me with his face blank of expressions. I'll never forget what he said to me in those moments. "You're free now, Lucas," I didn't know what he meant. "They can't hurt you anymore."


Within seconds, Toby was gone too. I called for him, shouted his name for what seemed like hours. Then I ran to his house. For the very first time since Toby died the flashbacks were gone. Toby was gone.


He never came back.


I tried explaining to the people in my community that Toby didn't mean to kill my parents, he just wanted to save me. They started to ask me a lot of questions that I didn’t have answers for. My eyes were closed when it all happened, I couldn’t give them details. When I told them that they just thought I was lying.


I would hear people whisper as if I wasn't only a matter of steps away.


"Poor kid got beat so much he turned mad," said my neighbour.


People at my school told one another that I killed my parents to get away from suffering. While others whispered to each other "he's lost it ever since his friend died."


The assumptions were endless. They all had different opinions but no one listened to what really happened. They decided it was best if I stayed with people who were professionally here to help people like me. Help people who were mad. Ever since then I never got to leave this one white room.