Jo walked into the small, brightly colored room, scared and silent. Ever since her mommy's outburst the other day, she hadn't talked at all to anyone, not even David. Jo had been doing a lot of thinking about David lately…

"Hello there. You must be Jo," said a woman Jo noticed sitting in the corner. She was sitting at a miniature table and setting out crayons and paper. Jo stayed where she was.

"It's all right, sweetheart, I promise not to bite," said the woman, flashing a brilliant smile. Her smile certainly matched the room, but the woman herself seemed to clash drastically. She was wearing a navy blue pencil line skirt and blazer to match, with her blonde hair pulled tightly above her head in a bun. To Jo, she looked like she could be the same age as Mommy, but she had on a lot more makeup. This strange woman came over to where Jo was standing and gave her a little push towards the table in the corner.

"My name is Mrs. Spektor, and you and I are going to be playing together over the next few weeks. I hope we can be friends, in time. Now, let's go to the back and see what we can do with those crayons."

Jo reluctantly let herself be lead by Mrs. Spektor to the table and sat down. Mrs. Spektor crouched down next to her, picked up the crayons and pressed them into Jo's hand.

"Jo, what I would like you to do is draw a picture of your favorite thing in the world. It could be anything, a toy, a pet, anything. Go crazy!"

With that she rose and made her way further into the corner, so to watch as Jo began to color. The room was silent except for the scratching of the crayon to paper, and it made Jo even more uneasy than she already was. She did as she was told, however, and when she was finished, silently held up the drawing to the psychologist in the corner. Mrs. Spektor took one look at the picture and knew that her task was going to be harder than she thought. In her hands was a picture of what appeared to be another world. There were little men who looked more like triangles and winged creatures that could have been pumpkins scattered across the page. There were pigs wearing clothes and buildings that looked like they were ice cream sundaes. There were some things on the page that Mrs. Spektor couldn’t even recognize. With a frown, she promptly tore up the page.

"What on earth was that, dear?" Mrs. Spektor said in her still pleasing voice.

Jo was starting to look very confused. "You said I had to draw my most favorite thing in the world. I couldn't think of just one, so I put them all together in one little place on that paper. Why did you tear it up?" Tears started to well up in her heartbroken eyes.

"Jo, I tore up that picture because it was all wrong! Sweetie, pigs don't wear clothes. People don't look like that. Houses certainly aren't made of ice cream. These things just simply cannot be, so we shouldn't draw pictures of them. Does that make any sense?" The entire time she was talking to Jo, her smile never wavered, her voice never faltered.

"I guessss so," Jo said, hesitantly. This was still all very confusing for Jo. How could this lady tell her that everything she had been playing with, thinking about, and singing to for years wasn't real?

"Don't you see, Jo? It's all in your mind. The sooner you realize that, the sooner we can make you all better."

"Oh. Am I sick?" Jo said, perplexed.

"Yes, honey. You're not sick the same way you are when you have a cold or the measles, but as sure as I'm standing here, your MIND is sick. And with my help, we'll be able to fix you right up in no time. Trust me, soon you'll be making real friends."

"But I HAVE real friends. Look here, I brought one with me! Come on out, David." She motioned for David to come out from behind the bookshelf where he had been hiding this whole time. "He's shy, but he wanted to make sure I was okay."

"Jo, this is what I'm talking about. Now look over there, but this time, look harder. Do you REALLY see someone there named David?"

Jo turned back to David and squinted as hard as she could. She stared and stared and stared. She looked back at Mrs. Spektor, then back once more at where David was standing. Slowly, she turned one last time to Mrs. Spektor.

"No. I don't see anyone there. Did I get it right?"

A triumphant smile twitched at the corners of Mrs. Spektor's mouth. "Yes, Jo. You got it just right."

Over the next few weeks, Jo continued to visit Mrs. Spektor. They played games with flashcards, where Jo was to choose the real object and discard the imaginary. They played games like House, where Jo was the daughter and Mrs. Spektor was the mother in a two story, four bedroom suburban home (or at least that was how Mrs. Spektor described it). They talked about how Jo was to ask her teachers for more school work, to fill the idle hours in her day that were usually occupied with dreaming. And at the end of every session, Mrs. Spektor always asked Jo if David had been to see her lately. For awhile, Jo said yes. But slowly and surely, Jo reported that David wasn't coming around so much anymore. Finally, one day, after playing with flashcards for nearly an hour, Jo admitted that David wasn't real, and that she would never see him again.

"After all," she had said, "he was only imaginary."

David never left for good. He continued to cast spells on Jo, even as she went to therapy every Saturday to confirm his nonexistence. He wanted to be sure some small part of Jo always knew magic's touch. As time grew on, though, his spells started to bounce off Jo and fly in all directions, as if there was some sort of force field around her. David tried and tried, but it came to pass that the wall Mrs. Spektor, Ms. Delaney, and all the other adults in Jo's life had constructed for her was too indestructible. She had forgotten about magic and dinging dolphins and clothed pigs for good. That world was permanently closed off for her. David's heart grew heavy, and for days he cried over the loss of his friend. He had known many children in his time, but of all of them, Jo had surely been his favorite. Her imagination had illuminated the world he lived in, and she had even created several new species. Their entire world would miss her.

David left her house, finally, a few days after he had confirmed her loss of innocence. He was to move on to a new child, to make a new friend. It was something he had grown accustomed to, but each time it still hurt just the same. David knew that the next child would one day end up like Jo. There were always going to be adults who wanted their children to see only what was tangible, to sing only the songs they could identify, to draw pictures of things they could see in their everyday lives. And one by one, all of David's friends were growing up. There was nothing anyone could do.