All my life, I had been extremely introverted. Talking to people almost choked me, and no one really liked me because I did not possess the ability to please others, something that often comes with good communication skills, which I unfortunately lacked. This introversion always made me the side character at school. I used to sit alone, whether in the classroom or the canteen. I never had friends who would wait for me or help me with my studies.

Sometimes I felt peaceful when no one was around, but this happiness was only temporary. After cutting myself off from people and remaining isolated for months, I fell into an endless abyss of loneliness and slowly started losing my mind.

After the summer holidays, I returned to school as a fresher in the seventh grade. Everything felt awkward. After the morning assembly, when I walked into my classroom, I noticed several unfamiliar faces. They were all happily talking and smiling with each other. But in the far-left corner sat a student who immediately caught my attention.

He had greyish eyes, middle-parted hair, a clear face and a sharp nose. He sat there like a statue — motionless and detached, not reacting to anything around him.

I walked over and greeted him. As soon as he saw me, he smiled and made space for me on the bench. I introduced myself, and he began telling me about himself. After a very long time, I had finally met someone interesting, someone who seemed to like me even though I barely spoke. Yet he was always with me.

We did our work together and spent much of the time sitting quietly, without caring about others.

But one day, something completely unexpected happened. The principal called my parents to school. I was astonished because I had done nothing wrong, so I couldn’t understand why they had been summoned.

After the meeting, my parents took me home and asked a strange question: “Why do you always talk to yourself in class and around the school?”

I was stunned. For a moment, I didn’t know how to react. I had never talked to myself. I always talked to my friend, who was constantly beside me. But the teacher had told my parents something shocking, no student with such a name was admitted to the school, and they had never seen me talking to anyone. According to them, I was always alone.

I was bewildered. How could this be possible? Why were they all saying this about my friend?

After a few days away from school, my parents took me to a doctor. There, they discovered that I had a condition called dissociative identity disorder (DID). In this disorder, a person can create distinct identities and interact with them as if they were real.

After a long and painful struggle, I gradually forgot my friend, who, according to everyone else, had never existed. After a six-month break, I returned to school feeling healthier and happier, as therapy and social interaction had helped me greatly.

When I rejoined school, I no longer saw my friend. That was when I finally understood that he had only been a hallucination. And from that day onwards, I have been living my life fully with the same children I once felt distant from.

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 11th, 2026