I sighed and glanced around the blank white walls of the hospital room. I’ve been here for what felt like centuries, partly because of the cancer I’ve been fighting, and the fact that I’ve actually been here for quite a while. When I was first diagnosed and told about the low survival rate, I thought, Ha, I could beat this, no problem! But at the point of my death, that thought seemed like something out of a fairy tale. Mentally I wanted to fight this off, but I soon realized that the idea of giving up wasn’t a half-bad idea.

The day I died was the same as any other day in the good old Virginia Mason Hospital. Get up, eat a tiny breakfast, get my treatment,  and then go back to room 118, but this day ended a little differently. My mom and sister were here for their usual after-school/work visit, but that day I don’t recall feeling glad to see them. I felt bad.

“How are you feeling? You don’t look so good.” Mom, the concerned woman that she is, said, grabbing my hand to comfort me.

Turning to her, “Haven’t felt good all day,” My gaze shifted to my sister, who seemed to pick up on something sad, had a thousand-mile stare in her eyes.

That stare was the last thing I remembered before feeling my soul drift from my weak body. My vision soon blurred to white, with the last thing I heard being, “Fly high in heaven, Andre.” From my mother, her voice breaking.

Soon, I found myself in what looked like a big fluffy cloud in the sky. “Where am I? W-what is this?  Because this isn’t exactly how heaven was described in the Bible.”

“Welcome to your service, Andre White.” A regal voice bellowed from all around the sky.

I screeched in response, sounding much like a scared bird. I took a few seconds to regain myself, then asked, “W-who are you? How do you know my name?”

“I am Sasha Romanoff,” after this was said, a bunch of clouds came together and formed a woman with short brown hair, and a fancy sky-blue dress, “I am the head of the Imaginative Institute, an organization that was created to help young children through tough times.”

My face shriveled in confusion, “How? I don’t know if you realize-,” I paused, my brain struggling to comprehend this fact, “I’m dead.”

“Well, Mr. White,”

“Andre. Call me Andre please.” I mumbled.

“You return back to earth as a spirit- “

“Like a ghost or something?”

Sasha glared at me and continued talking, “Seen only by your chosen child, and this spirit can change to meet your child’s desire. For example, if a child likes a unicorn, you become a unicorn.”

I groaned in response, since I was quite against girly stuff like that. “So, I’m going to choose a kid and come back as their imaginary friend, but I’m actually with them, just not seen by others?”

“Precisely Andre, and when your service is no longer needed, you go to where your life on earth has led you.”
I didn’t respond, my mind still trying to comprehend what was going on. “Are you human? Or are you one of the spirits? Are you dead like me?”

“I was human, just as you were, but instead of becoming a spirit, I serve here, leading our new members to their service.” She paused, and turned to her left, where a big bowl started to form out of the clouds. “Now it’s time to choose your child.”

“Why is it a bowl?” I asked, walking (which was practically hopping) beside her towards the deep bowl sitting before us.

“With a drop or two of your blood, it chooses your child and binds your spirit with theirs until it is no longer needed.” She replied with a solemn nod, a knife now in her hands.  

“What the- how?” I mumbled, pointing at the knife that formed out of clouds.

“When you have my abilities, you can form anything out of the clouds.”

“That’s not even close to the answer I wanted because there’s no way that you can—” 

Cutting off my rambling, Sasha continued, handing me the knife, “Just cut your hand and let the bowl do the rest.”

“There’s no fancy name or anything? You guys just call it ‘the bowl’?”

She shrugged as I grabbed the knife from her hand, “I never saw why anyone gave it a name to be honest.”
“So it had a name?” I asked, my face shriveling up in confusion. I paused before putting the knife to my hand, glancing up at Sasha. “Why am I even doing this?” I asked, my hand and the knife in it falling to my side, “I’m here, on top of a cloud, cutting my hand just to serve a kid?”

Sasha blinked in confusion, “Why are you here? Did you hear a word I said? And you seemed to understand, did you not?”

“I did, it’s just— I’m just curious as to why and how I ended up here instead of heaven.”

She shrugged, not giving me much consolation.

“Thanks for the explanation, appreciate it.” I mumbled.

I sighed again and pulled the knife back to my hand, piercing the center, the pain feeling the same as it did from when I was alive. A few drops went into the bowl, sizzling upon impact. Directly after, the cut sewed itself back together like it never appeared. The area above the bowl began to glow and spin and faces flipped through on a screen-type thing. It soon slowed and a face, a name, age, and a person showed up on screen. Her name was Millie Johnson, a six-year-old from Seattle. My eyes scanned the display, reading random little bits of her personality, a slideshow of qualities. I glanced over to Sasha who was now smiling. “You found your girl.” She said softly.

Sasha now walked towards me and tapped a tiny green check in the corner of the display, “Now you’re off to your service.”

“Wait so there’s no class or anything? I’m just sent off and supposed to be a good ‘friend’?”

“You’ll learn easy, everyone does.” And with that, the serene clouds faded into a dark room, with a bed that looked much like a fort. There was a blanket thrown over as a sort of dome, a flashlight illuminating Millie’s hunched figure. I glanced down at my ‘spirit figure’ almost afraid to look. I glanced down and saw soft black and white paws, these look a lot like—I glanced to my left to see a tall mirror, marked with little dashes and heights beside them. I stood in the mirror, seeing the form of a translucent husky puppy, floppy ears and all. When I was alive, I loved husky puppies. All dogs were great, but husky puppies were my favorite. I trotted over to her bed, confident in my spirit form. I tried crawling up the bed, but that wasn’t easy when you had paws. Millie seemed to feel the pull of the sheets and lifted up her blanket from the top of her bed to see me. Her face curled in confusion, and a shaky hand reached out to touch my head. She did, and surprisingly her hand didn’t pass through, but soon her hand traveled to my ears, tugging them, as if she was checking if they wouldn’t come off my head. Without another word, she scooped me up into her arms and ran down the hallway, giggling. “Mommy, did you get me a new puppy?” a broad smile on her face as she stopped at what was likely her parents’ bedroom.

A tired face emerged from the door, and it soon changed into confusion. “No, we didn’t—but what are you holding? Your arms are empty.”

“It’s the puppy you got me, isn’t he cute?” her eyes full of an eager joy.

Her mother’s face slipped into further confusion. “There is no puppy Millie, your arms are empty.” Her voice now in a calming tone.

“Yes there is, don’t you see it?” she protested, holding me up higher to her mother’s face. My ears flicked back, realizing nobody other than Millie can see or feel me.

“No sweetie, there’s nothing there.” Her mother said, lowering down to her daughter’s face.

“Then- Then why don’t you see him?” her joy and happiness were quickly fading.

Her hand reached out to move a lock of blonde hair out of Millie’s face, “I don’t know Mils, but it seems you have yourself a great new friend.”

I was surprised at her reaction, as I guessed that everyone would reject her because she was talking to me. But since I never had a kid, I never had that loving feeling.

After that night, things like this continued to happen, since Millie often forgot I wasn’t seen by others. She held herself back during school, but the reaction from her fellow classmates when this happened wasn’t as loving as her mother. One child in particular seemed to be even more nasty than the rest. She was the ring leader of these kids. Her name was Reina Lyza. Through instinct my teeth bared every time she walked by Millie. Even though she wouldn’t see it, I would have likely gotten the “Aww! Look at the puppy!” when I was doing my best to defend Millie and look threatening to Reina.

Millie’s friends on the other hand were very accepting of me and her tendencies with me around. They just ignored it, but also played along when needed.

“You’re just the cutest, best, most loving puppy ever!” she would say, her face close to mine. Her friends would just watch in silence as Millie continued to love on me. This loving had become something I was quite fond of, since I didn’t get a girlfriend or anyone close to me like that while I was alive. 

“Stella, why do even hang out with Millie? It seems she cares more about this ‘friend’ of hers than you.”

Stella, the most defensive of her friends, shriveled up in anger as Reina’s venomous words hit her ears. “Even if she truly does, I’ll always defend her from meanies like you.”

Reina scoffed and giggled with her posse as they continued walking.

“C’mon Millie, we have to go to class.” Stella said softly, breaking Millie’s gaze from my eyes.

She nodded and smiled as she scooped me up into her arms. Days often went like this, but I would ask every night if Reina’s words bother her, but her response is always, “Mom always says that people’s words don’t matter, only God’s do, so why should I listen to her?”

I sighed and looked into her eyes, “Always mature beyond your six years, Millie.”

“Well, you help me too, don’t you?”

A light laugh of mine broke the brief moment of silence between us, “Well, I try to at least.” 

She smiled and tucked the blanket further under my side, “Well you’re doing a great job Andy.” Andy was a nickname she made up, since she wasn’t fond of the name Andre.

After that, she closed her eyes and fell asleep. Seeing her so peaceful, happy, and loved, I wondered why I was here with her. Little did I know that the answer was lying in the day ahead.

It started as usual, get up, get dressed, and go to school, but the real turning point came at lunch. Millie and her friends were seated around, me sitting on top of the table, not feeling bad because nobody could see I was sitting there. Once Millie got past the idea that I didn’t need to eat, she went on as usual, but then our good friend Reina walked by.

She stopped, looking Millie dead in the eyes, “Having a nice lunch with that stupid puppy?”

Millie’s eyes lit up with a bright tenacity, “He’s not stupid! He’s the smartest, kindest, lovely puppy—and friend! And I doubt that’s something you’ll ever get to experience!” She glanced over at me, and then back at Reina.
Reina seemed genuinely shocked for once, not being able to pull a smart comment. Her face soon turned to an angry one, as she grabbed Millie’s bottle of water, splashed it in her face, and stormed off. I quickly came to Millie, who was too shocked to fully react. A few seconds later she started to cry, a rare occurrence with Millie’s bright self. Stella ran to get napkins, while I was comforting her, “Hey, hey it’s okay. I dealt with this stuff all the time when I was younger, but it will get better. It always does”

She didn’t respond, so I just went to one of the best ways I know how to make her laugh. Lick her face. She burst into a fit of giggles, but not without a few sniffles. Stella came back with a bunch of napkins, and handed them to Millie, who dried her face and shirt. The teachers on lunch duty saw this all go down and later that day Millie was checked out of school. There were a few more tears, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed by Millie’s favorite ice cream shop, which her mom brought her to.

“That Reina, she’s a mean one, isn’t she?”  Her mother (who I have called my mother multiple times by mistake) said, sitting down at the table in the small shop.

“She just doesn’t know what the word kind means yet.” Followed by a huff and glancing down at her favorite flavor, vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.

“Maybe not, but she’ll learn. People like that always get what they deserve. God’s always good at that.” Millie’s mom replied with a chuckle.

“I was gonna say all of that, but your mom just said it all for me. But just know you’ll have me when you need me.” I added, not wanting to mention having to leave her side at some point.

Her bright smile spread across her face, “Thanks Andy.”

The next day Millie insisted that she was ready to face Reina at school again, saying that she was prepared to teach her the true meaning of kindness. I was skeptical at first, but after going over it many, many, times, she convinced me.

She wanted to get it over with early, so before class started she walked over to her group of friends, me following close behind.

“Reina, do you have a minute to talk?” Millie asked quietly.

She laughed, “Talk? how about you talk to that pet of yours.”

“It- It’s about him, and I’m sorry that I may have offended you— I may not know why-- but if I did, I truly apologize.”

Her face softened, a surprising sight for the usual scowl on her face. She turned to her friends, who were equally shocked as I was, then back to Millie. “To be honest, I don’t even know why I was picking on you. M-My friends always say something to me to say something, I don’t want to do it but I do it anyways.” She paused, “I- I’m sorry, and I realize kind you are.”

“Then could –” Millie attempted to ask to be her friends, but was cut off by one of Reina’s buddies.

“Amazing person? Not wanting to do what we say? I guess we aren’t your ‘friends’ anymore.” Snapped one of Reina’s crew. The rest just rolled their eyes and pranced off.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to be friends?” Millie said quietly.

“I would enjoy that, since those meanies found their place.” Reina replied with a giggle.

And so, Reina joined Millie’s friend group and I seemed to be less of a need. Millie was becoming more and more mature than she already was, late night conversations were now between her friends and not me. A lot was changing, but it was all for the better of Mille, so I accepted it. I was only there when needed, and that need soon diminished.

On the first day of second grade, I suddenly had this feeling that my “purpose” was finally fulfilled. Walking into school I started, “Millie, I don’t feel so good,” I paused, barely able to form the words, “I think it’s about time I go—forever.”

She turned around and scooped me up for what was likely the last time, “Well, if it is, I’m ready and I’ll adjust,” she paused, looking to her tight bunch of friends, “I have all of these people around me, and if I’m sad about you, then I couldn’t enjoy these lovely people!”

I smiled, “Always more mature than your years.”

Right after I said that I felt myself slowly fade away, Millie watching with a grin on her face. She turned around and giggled as she ran to catch up with her friends. The world around me faded as I appeared back in the clouds, back to my human form, standing at the gates of heaven.

“Welcome home, Andre.” A deep voice bellowed.