I used to believe…
up until I was about 8, I had an imaginary friend named Sprogget. (originally stemmed from a fairytale book I had as a child) He would go everywhere with me and ride in my pocket. I believed in him so much that it drove my family crazy. On one occasion, my father sat down to dinner,on poor Sprogget, and I started screaming and crying hysterically "YOU'RE KILLING HIM! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" The same night my sister decided she had had enough. She got out the Fairytale book and called me to her room. Well, whenever she read his story, Sprogget had to get in the book to make the story work. When he got in the book, she slammed it shut and said he was trapped forever. I cried a whole lot as a child. Carrie (my sister) hid the book and I never saw Sprogget again. I really believed that he was trapped in the book
