So many years have passed since then that it’s time to be honest with myself now. My therapist also encourages me and tells me these things are completely normal until a certain age. I could talk to Vili, and he often talked to me as well – in my head. I believe this phenomenon is often referred to as an imaginary friend, when certain segments of a child’s developing personality manifest as a voice or a character. That was Vili to me. He always guided me to do the right thing, to choose the harder path. I often imagined that Vili was a superhero and that he saved others, my parents included, from some perilous situation like a burning car after an accident.

That night I lay in my bed, with Vili still in the corner. I found it hard to fall asleep even though I was exhausted by anger and grief. And then I heard it, I heard Vili’s cry. Most likely it was all in my head, but I could clearly hear the voice coming from the corner – he was crying, not out of fear or due to his illness, but because he had let me down: he wasn’t a good enough plush toy, so I had had to punish him. Then I realized that I was the one who had failed him; my anger was unreasonable, rather an indication of my own stupidity. I jumped out of bed crying and ran to the corner to hug Vili. I promised him I would never let him down again, I would be by his side for the time remaining.

When I finally fell asleep, Vili wasn’t crying anymore.

My mother and other mothers in the neighborhood often socialized, primarily to discuss useful tips regarding the everyday issues of raising children. Thus it isn’t surprising in retrospect that soon enough other plush toys at school got sick. I felt relieved because I wasn’t alone in this fight – others had to face the same dread as me, and we quickly found each other. I can’t recall their names, even though they were my friends. My therapist says it’s one of the mind’s defense mechanisms. Apart from their names I remember everything about them, so if it’s a mechanism, it’s not working very efficiently.