"I have an imaginary friend. He sleeps with me," Luigi said while playing with modeling clay in the living room.
"What does he look like?" I asked skeptically.
"He's tall, skinny, and has short hair. He's a teenager, and his name is Luís," he replied matter-of-factly.
"What is he wearing?"
"Normal clothes. His shoes shine."
"And what did he come here for?" I asked, wanting more details.
"He doesn't have a house, so he came to live here."
"Luigi, he can't stay here," I advised, though I wasn't entirely sure myself.
"Why not? He's my friend!" he insisted, irritated.
I fell silent, deep in thought, but decided not to push the subject any further. If there was something there, sooner or later I would notice it.
For several nights, I slept in Luigi's room on a mattress beside his bed. I hoped I might see him.
One night, I woke up and saw the entity lying on top of Luigi in his bed.
It stood up, and as it walked over me, our eyes met. It realized I could see it.
It didn't look evil.
I was curious. What was its intention? Why did it sleep on top of Luigi?
I'll find out. I just have to wait.
I crossed my arms and went back to sleep.
A little while later, I opened my eyes and saw it kneeling beside me, watching me with its face only inches from mine.
Once again, our eyes met, and once again it realized I could see it.
I thought about touching it.
Better not.
I kept studying it, then drifted back to sleep.
I woke up when Luigi kicked me.
I looked over and saw the entity standing on his bed, its leg merged with Luigi's leg.
It's using Luigi's sleeping body to kick me! How is that even possible? This is too much! I thought angrily.
Its expression was full of hostility.
It wanted Luigi all to itself.
The kicks were meant to annoy me, to make me leave.
I sprang up, knelt on my mattress, and placed my hands on Luigi's bed.
"What do you want?" I asked with my mind.
"I want company," it replied.
A sharp chill ran through my arms.
"You are not staying here. Leave, in Jesus' name. Now!" I rebuked it.
A vision flashed before me: a boy with pointed teeth and black eyes.
Luís was an Exu.
I prayed Psalm 91.
He left.
The next day...
"Luigi, that friend isn't real! You're making him up!" I bluffed.
"I'm making him up! He doesn't exist! He's only inside my head!"
"If he shows up again inside your head, tell him to leave. He's not your friend, no matter what he says. Pray like this: 'Leave now, in Jesus' name! Jesus sends angels to protect me.' Do you understand?"
"I understand. He left."
"Where did he go?"
"To the United States. He said he wanted to visit Disney."
Time passed.
One night, we were lying in my bed.
"Mom, I called my imaginary friend back."
"Luigi, he'd already gone away. Why did you call him back?" I asked, discouraged.
"Because he's my friend!" he said firmly.
"He's not your friend!" I exclaimed.
"How do you know?"
"I just do. Trust me. Do you think I'd lie to you? When you're older, I'll explain." I wanted to end the conversation because I didn't think he would understand.
"You started it, now finish it. How do you know?" he pressed stubbornly.
"He looks like your friend, but he isn't. He's deceiving you. He's pretending to be good, but he's not. He's bad, and he has to leave."
"Then why don't you make him leave?"
"I did. But if you keep calling him back, it doesn't help," I explained.
Luigi looked thoughtful.
We prayed, and he fell asleep.
The following night...
"I sent my imaginary friend away," he confessed.
"Very good. What did you say to him?"
"I told him he couldn't stay."
"And what did he say?"
"'Okay.'"
"How do you talk to him? How do you see him?"
"Inside my head."
Did he really give up that easily?
I looked upward and had a vision.
He came flying toward me and hovered close overhead.
His gaze was defiant, and there was the faintest smile at the corner of his mouth.
A surge of fury rose inside my chest.
"Leave this house, in Jesus' name!" I rebuked him, staring directly into his eyes.
He vanished.
We prayed.
The following afternoon, Luigi was watching a movie about ghost hunters.
"I believe in ghosts," he confessed.
"So do I."
"But in the movie they're solid... they're not really solid," he said, puzzled.
"What are they like, then?"
"Kind of transparent. Very pale white."
"Was your imaginary friend like that?"
"Yes."
Luigi sees them too. Now I'm sure of it. That's exactly how I saw him as well. Luigi's channel of communication is open, and he doesn't even know it. It looks like many adventures are still ahead of us... I reflected.