I have a friend— Thomas.

Thomas is my best friend.

Thomas is my only friend.

Mama says that Thomas shouldn’t be the center of my universe, and that I need a new friend. Maybe that nice little girl from down the street? What’s her name again? Lizzy Anderson. Her. I should play with her.

I hate Lizzy. She pulls on my braids, and laughs at me because I have glasses and I have to wear a retainer. She’s mean, and she made fun of Thomas. Thomas told me I shouldn’t play with people like that. Thomas told me she doesn’t deserve to know someone like me.

Mama always fidgets when she hears me talk about Thomas. Always fidgeting, like she has some itch she can’t scratch.

How about that nice girl that sits next to me in class? Susie?

Susie doesn’t even know my name, even though my namecard is always in plain sight, scotch-taped to my desk. Thomas says that stuck-up girls like Susie shouldn’t even consider receiving my attention. Stuck-up girls like Susie would be better off dead, than continuing to pretend that someone like me, someone special like me, isn’t worth knowing.

Mama says that I shouldn’t listen to Thomas.

“Now, listen to me, young lady,” she would say to me in that particular way of hers. That way that seems to say I’ve already failed her. “Don’t listen to Thomas. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You should make more friends, and try telling Thomas that you can’t play with him anymore. I don’t like these ideas he’s putting in your head.”

Thomas always gets really angry when she says things like this, so I get angry, too. Thomas says that my mama is the one putting ideas in my head. She’s better off dead than continuing to reprimand Thomas and me.

I agree. My mama doesn’t deserve to live if she can’t respect Thomas.

Thomas isn’t like other people. No one else can see Thomas, but I know he’s there, always watching me, telling me the answers to my problems. I love Thomas.

Thomas is my only friend.

Thomas is my best friend.

No one will take Thomas away from me.