She's slipping from me fast, sliding into a world where no one can reach her. It's been a slow descent that first became aware to me when she was ten. The truth was it started much earlier, we just couldn't see it then.
It turned out that the plethora of imaginary friends she had weren't as imaginary as she thought. She would play for hours with them in her room. In fact she preferred the company of those imaginary friends over the company of other little girls her age.
In her head Destiny made up stories so elaborate that she couldn't tell the difference between her stories and reality.
One time she decided that she had a dog. The closest thing she had to a real dog was a large stuffed dog named Jack, that she kept in her closet. Destiny told all her friends about her dog named Jack. One day one of her friends came over to see the dog. Destiny led the little girl up to her room and proudly opened the closet door to display her dog.
"That's just a stuffed toy," the little girl told her. "That's not a real dog."
'"But that's Jack," Destiny insisted.
"No it's a stupid stuffed animal," the other little girl told her.
Destiny gave Jack an apologetic pet on the head and ran down the stairs crying. It took her several hours to calm down and recover. My husband Allen and I just figured she was sensitive. She liked her stuffed animals, she had a good imagination and she was sensitive. That was all.