The Invisible Friend

Liam had never been good at making friends.

He was small for his age, quiet, and preferred books to soccer balls. The other kids at Oakridge Elementary found him “weird,” a label that stuck to him like glue. So when Liam’s parents moved to a new town and into a creaky old house with ivy creeping up the bricks, he didn’t mind the solitude. He was used to it.

But everything changed on his seventh night in the house.

Liam had been reading on the floor, his back against the wall, when he heard it—three slow knocks from inside his closet. Not on the door, but from within.

He froze. The book slid from his lap.

“Dad?” he called.

No answer.

“Mom?”

Silence.

Then came a whisper, so faint it could’ve been imagined: “Can I come out now?”

Liam stared at the closet. It hadn’t been used yet—just a few empty hangers and boxes. Slowly, he stood and opened the door.

No one.

He laughed nervously, shook his head, and turned to leave—only to hear it again.

“I’m right here.”

He turned back around, heart thumping. “Who are you?”

“I’m your friend,” the voice said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Liam should’ve been scared. But the voice wasn’t threatening. It sounded... kind. Curious. Lonely, even.

“My name’s Liam,” he said cautiously. “What’s yours?”

A pause.

“I don’t remember. But you can call me whatever you like.”

That’s how it began.

The invisible friend, who Liam named Benji, became a part of his daily life. At first, Benji only spoke in whispers—mostly at night or when Liam was alone. But soon he could feel Benji’s presence. A tug on his backpack strap. A cold breeze on his arm. The sound of laughter with no source.

“Why can’t I see you?” Liam asked one day.

“I used to be seen,” Benji answered. “But people forgot me. I faded.”

“But I can hear you.”

“That’s enough.”

Benji played games with him—hide and seek, guessing games, even told him stories about things he couldn’t remember fully, only fragments: an attic with wooden toys, the sound of a piano, a swing that faced the lake behind the house.

“Did you live here before me?” Liam asked one night.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I only remember the waiting.”

At school, things started to change. When the other boys teased Liam, strange things happened. Their backpacks would go missing for hours. Their pencils would snap mid-test. Chalk would squeak so loudly it made everyone cover their ears.

Liam never told Benji to do anything. But he knew.

“You can’t hurt people,” Liam said.

“They hurt you first.”

“Still... it’s not right.”

Benji didn’t respond. Not that day.

But the next week, the bullying stopped.

As weeks turned into months, Liam grew more confident. He made one friend—a girl named Riley who liked weird books and quiet corners too. She didn’t know about Benji. No one did.

But Benji knew about her.

One afternoon, Liam was reading with Riley under a tree when he felt a sudden chill. The pages of his book flipped on their own. Riley looked around, frowning.

“Did you feel that?”

Liam nodded.

That night, Benji’s voice came again, but colder.

“You don’t need her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“I was your friend first. I was always here.”

Liam felt a knot in his stomach. “You’re jealous.”

“I don’t want to disappear again, Liam.”

That night, he couldn’t sleep.

The next day, Riley didn’t come to school. Or the next. Or the next.

When Liam finally visited her house, her mom said she’d fallen from the tree near the lake. She hit her head. She’d be okay, but she was scared. Said the wind had pushed her.

Liam stood at the tree for hours that evening. He didn’t speak, didn’t cry. Just waited.

Finally, the voice came.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was just scared.”

“You can’t stay, Benji,” Liam said quietly. “Not if you’ll hurt people to stay with me.”

Silence.

Then a whisper: “Will you forget me, too?”

“No,” Liam said. “Never. But you have to let go. Maybe it’s time to stop waiting.”

For the first time, Benji didn’t reply.

The air around Liam felt warmer. The wind no longer whispered. The house, once filled with quiet creaks and cold spots, seemed still.

Benji was gone.

But Liam didn’t feel alone.

He remembered. Always.

Because every lonely boy has a story.

And sometimes, so do their invisible friends.