Not Real

"Have you seen Nick?" the boy twirled a soldier figurine around in his hands, not really playing with it but more keeping his mind on something.

"Nick?" the man asked, looking away from the fridge. The boy looked over at him, expression unreadable.

"You know, my brother."

He shut the fridge, sighing and walking over to him. "We've been over this before, you remember?"

The boy looked at him blankly and he felt his irritation rising to the surface again as he continued, "Nick was never real. He was just an imaginary friend. But that's okay, because everyone grows out of it at different stages."

"But he's been with me all my life," the boy moaned, "Mum and Dad knew him."

"They probably didn't want to spoil it for you," he murmured, "but you are an only child. Nick's gone away. He won't come back."

"How do you know?"

His hands clenched into fists, annoyance and impatience surging through him as he grabbed the figurine from the boys clutches, crushing it within his grip, "He's. Not. Real."

He threw the broken toy to the ground and turned, leaving the boy to begin his crying alone.

[195 words]