An Ask Reddit thread invites users to share tales about their children’s imaginary friends.
Here are some of the funniest and spookiest yarns:
When my younger brother was around 4, he had an imaginary friend named Victoria Meadowbrooke. He told us that she was the prettiest girl ever and she floated above his bed a night.
My little brother had an imaginary friend named Tuna who he said was the size of a thimble. When he quit mentioning her abruptly, we asked him why. He said he ate her.
My son from the age of three always tells me about the “creeper man” who lives in my mom and dads bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said “Oh, he doesn’t have a face.”
My brother had an invisible friend named Tony Rygel. He was 6 inches tall and was elderly. One day we found my brother crying in his room. Apparently Tony Rygel had passed away in his sleep. We buried him in a shoe box in the backyard.
When my older daughter was two or three, she used to have a couple of imaginary friends, Dodo and DeeDee. They were typical imaginary friends. She would talk to them and play with them, and tell me about their lives.
Then one day, when she was about three, she was talking on her play phone when I walked into the room. She “hung up” her phone and said to me (with a completely flat voice and deadpan expression): “The Evil is coming.”
It scared the shit out of me. She seriously had an imaginary friend named “The Evil”.
Turns out The Evil was actually a pretty nice friend, she just had an unfortunate name.
My mum tells me that when I was around 3 or 4, I just used to sit and stare at the roof and talk to Jennie Bond; the then royal correspondent for the BBC. Not creepy disturbing but a disturbingly shit choice in imaginary friends.
My friend is telling me this as we speak:
“I had an imaginary tormentor. He was made up by my parents whenever we would go on holiday to Porta Pollensa. He was ‘The Vampire Man’. He lived in a house with round windows, and my parents told me that, if I didn’t behave, he’d feast on my blood.
When I go there now, I still cross to the other side of the road to avoid that house.
I’m a 27 year-old man.”
My niece was around 6 years old but could talk really well. She grew quite fond of this imaginary character named Donney or Donee. She said he would only show up whenever Mommy and Daddy went to sleep. He said she would play with her and shit. Well, one night she was in the living room resting on the couch when I walked in the door. She shot right up looked at me with the most dead but evil filled stare ever and, I quote, said, “Donney, no! Don’t hurt him! No!” then went back to a comatose that would be followed by screams of horror. This is where it gets real interesting. One day I was sitting watching the television when she looked at me and said, “Sometimes, when I’m playing with Donney, we take of our clothes an jump on the bed.” I decided to ask her what Donney looks like (no, I didn’t have a clue what I was fucking doing) and this is exactly what she said, ” He’s tall, with black and red skin. He has worms crawling out of his eyes. He also has black teeth and black hair. He wears black clothes.”
When I was little my “imaginary” friend was named Bobby, I distinctly remember him existing and being real. On day when I was 5 or 6 I was going somewhere with my aunt and cousins and I was talking to Bobby. My cousin got pissed that I was talking to someone she couldn’t fathom was there (we are same age) .
She unbuckled Bobby’s seatbelt and threw him out of the van. I screamed bloody murder at the top of my lungs and wouldn’t stop, so my Aunt went back for him. She had to turn around twice on the highway and drive really slow because I was the only one who could see him and pick him up. While she was crawling at a snails pace on the highway, she got pulled over by a cop. I was still screaming in the back seat and told the cop that my cousin killed Bobby and she needed to go to jail!
Needless to say my aunt had a hard time trying to explain to the cop that he was my imaginary friend. But while we were pulled over Bobby came up to the car and said he was fine, claimed in through the window. I told my aunt it was ok Bobby was back now. When the officer came back. I told him that Bobby wasn’t dead just hurt.
The officer then proceeded to talk to my aunt for a second and then asked my 6 year old cousin to get out of the car. He told her she was going to jail for trying to kill an imaginary friend and put her in the back of his car for 5 minutes. My cousin never messed with Bobby or me again.
See also: Children say the creepiest things