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He Exist...Only In My Memory...Part 1

*Hey guys :D it's Mary Cait and this is another story...but I am also going to be doing "Mirror on the wall" as well. I just hope you all like this one. I've been working hard trying to get ideas for this one. I mainly got this idea from watching Titanic really...well...the title really gives it away I guess.haha. Before you read, I just want you to know I just got the idea of this plot from watching Titanic...it's not going to be a Titanic type story where Michael is Jack and the other character is Rose...you just gotta read lol Well...here we go with the first part
  ------)MaryCait*

Prolouge

"Wendy," a soft voice spoke out to the dark-curly headed child.

Wendy turned around to see the man that was always in her dreams lately. He was tall and lean, well built and in good shape. He had dark-curly hair just like her, only longer and the big brown eyes to match. He sweet, loving smile made the small not scared to take his hand when he offered it to here.

"Wendy," he said again, only this time offering out his hand to the small girl. "Shall we take one of our walks?"

Wendy nodded and placed her small hand into his large one. They both began walking.

This is always what Wendy and this man did in her dreams. He would walk around, talk and play with her as she didn't have many friends. Wendy just adapted to the thought that this man was just some play mate she made up. She only found it strange that her play mate had a name, like a real person's name actually.

Michael.

Michael and Wendy would talk more every about anything. Anything that could come to their heads. To Wendy, Michael was a child trapped in a older man's body. They talked about adventures, pirates, little kiddy stories that Wendy couldn't talk about with her sister-Asha, Wendy's older sister, even though she was only ten-years-old, thought childish dreams and game were beneath her. Wendy, at age seven, childish things still amazed her. And she could tell they did the same for Michael.

Micheal seemed so real to her. He was the realest made up friend she'd ever had. Wendy knew he wasn't real, but the way he acted, the way he told the stories of his life, the way he sung, danced and even they way he laughed was as if everything he does for her...he has done them millions times before in the life she lives in. The real world.

In her dreams, her and Michael would always walk until they came to what seemed like an arch way leading to an amazingly beautiful mansion. The mansion it self wasn't just beautiful, the green grass, the small lake where the swans and ducks swam in. The grass also had small animals like rabbits or squrriles running around.

Everytime she wanted to go in, Michael always tightened her grip on her small hand. Wendy always looked up to see Michael's face harden everytime he looked at that mansion. She wanted to know why he hated it, but it was his house. Why hate your own home? This time she didn't want to be silent, she wanted her questions answered. "Michael?"

Michael's grip never loosened on her tiny hand. "Michael?" Wendy asked again, placing her other hand on top of his.

Michael loosened his grip on her hand some to look down at her. "Yes, Wendy?"

"Why do you always bring me here?"
"I'm not sure why on our walks I bring you here."
"Oh." Wendy said looking down, then back to him. "I just wanted to know. Because you always bring me here, but never let me past the arch way."
"Somethings not even I would want you to see."
"What do you mean?"
"It's mearly nothing." Michael told her, looking at the mansion once more before letting go of her small hand.

Wendy watch Michael walk to the arch way. She started running after him. She reached for his hand, but when she was nearly there he vanished. She was finally on the other side of the arch way. She looked around some calling out Michael's name, nothing came as a response to her cries.

******

Seven-year-old Wendy opened her eyes slowly. She saw she was no longer on the other side of the arch way where Michael vanished, she was now laying in her bed. Her bedroom walls, a pale pinkish color with small pictures she had painted hung from the wall.

Young Wendy sat straight up in her bed, looking around to make sure she wasn't still dreaming. Everytime she had her dream with Michael in it, he'd always stop both of them before they went into the arch way. This time it came as a shock to her that he let go of her hand and walked through it. The part that saddened her more was that he vanished before she could grab hold of his hand.

Wendy looked at her small hand and closed it, making a tight fist. Somehow in her small body, she knew Michael was real. How he always acted...no made up friend could ever act the way he did. No matter how much a child uses their imagination on them. Wendy knew he had to be real, how he acted everytime they neared the mansion.

She finally got to know some answers to her questions. They weren't great questions...Michael just gave her a tip, he didn't want her to see what was held in that mansion. She wanted to know why though. Why didn't Michael want her to know what happened in the mansion...or why he would just vanish like that in front of her.

Wendy looked out her window to the open field in front of her house, and sighed. "Why did you do that Michael? Why did you leave me?"

She wondered until she heard the voice of her older sister calling her. Sighing she thought it would be best for her to just get ready and go on about her day. Still, she wanted her question answered. Why did Michael leave? Why did he not want her going near the mansion? And who was Michael really?

To her...it was more then what a normal seven-year-old should have filling up their thoughts. She just couldn't help it. She wanted her questions answered, and answered is what she was going to get.

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