When I was a small child, around 3 or 4 years old, I had an imaginary friend named “Lincoln.” Lincoln was a bearded white male dressed as a king in very fancy velvet clothes with a fur cloak and a golden crown. He told me about his adventures in Madagascar, and about the crocodiles there. My mother told me that this detail was the first clue that Lincoln was maybe not entirely fiction, since my family were uneducated, working-classed people living in the rural south with only two TV stations she had no idea how I could have heard of Madagascar or crocodiles.
Anyhow, Lincoln often brought with him a boy named “Timothy.” Timothy had chains around his wrist, neck, and ankles, looked very malnourished, and had a pale purple-blue skin tone like he had drowned or been choked. The chain connected Timothy to Lincoln, but Timothy and I got along really well and would often play. Lincoln was very domineering. I do not remember this, but my mother says that sometimes the TV would come unplugged while we were watching it, and I would giggle and say that Lincoln did it.
One time, I was playing with a friend in my room, and I told her about Lincoln. She didn’t believe me. I asked Lincoln to close the door… both the door to the room and the closet door slammed shut. The girl started screaming and crying, and could not open the door to get out. It was not until my aunt opened it that she was able to leave, and she never came back!
Sometimes Lincoln would scare me. He would come to my bedside at night and show me images… like a movie… of flowers or animals or patterns of candy or just colors like a kaleidoscope. This was usually pleasant. But sometimes, he would speak, and his voice would echo inside my head unbearably… “hello… hello… hello… I’m here… I’m here… I’m here…” I could not make it stop. I would go sit on the bathroom floor and hold my head for half the night. I was four or five.
When I was six years old, my uncle was supposed to pick me up from school, but for some reason couldn’t. I walked around outside the building looking for any of my relatives, and eventually sat down in the playground, despondent. Timothy then appeared, and told me that he’d walk me home. I had always been driven to school, because it was a great distance from home… but we walked it. Timothy told me how to go, and when I got just outside of my house he disappeared. My mother was frantic… they were all so shocked that I just walked home on my own. That was the last time that I saw either Lincoln or Timothy.
I am reminded of this, because the topic came up in a conversation with one of my friends from university (I am currently a graduate student). We had gone together to Lillydale, New York for a birthday psychic reading – the first either of us had – and it was an incredibly amazing experience. As we drove home, the topic of the paranormal came up, and I remembered my encounter with my “imaginary” friends. As I spoke of Lincoln, I felt fine, but when I mentioned Timothy, a pins-and-needles feeling hit me at my knees and all along the back of my head… which I have begun feeling now as I write this. She started asking me questions about him… why was he blue… and I could not speak. She asked me if he drowned, and I could only shake my head no. She asked if he had been choked and I recalled marks on his throat… and I felt really dizzy and badly. We dropped the subject.
One day months later we were sitting together having lunch, and she brought it up again. Again, I felt… a malevolence. It’s really scary… and I wonder what had happened to me. I’ve had other paranormal encounters in my life, but I’ve been quite skeptical. But certain events surrounds the death of a loved one, that reading at Lilydale, and several bizarre coincidences have left me wondering about it. And now, during a study break, I was scooting around youtube and watched an episode of paranormal state. Which lead me to do some research on imaginary friends, which led me to this site.
Any feedback would be terrific! I’ll check back for comments. I would put my email here, but in academia, people really think poorly of you for believing in such things… it can hurt your career. Thanks.
Comments:
Sent in by “creepymemory”, Copyright 2009 TrueGhostTales.com
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Hi, I think imaginary friends are common for many small children, but they “grow out” of them and often do not even remember them. I have always wondered if most “imaginary” friends weren’t spirits seen by children whose minds are still very open. Yours seem very real as you had physical evidence, such as doors closing when asked, etc.
I have stories of my own regarding this that I will share in a separate post.
Did you ever try to get some history on the area where you grew up, and see if you could find out any info regarding Timothy? Do you think he was a murdered slave? I am curious as to why his chains linked him to Lincoln.
Thanks for sharing your story.
that was kinda weird and interesting.I thought you meant by Abraham Lincoln, cause like he died by getting shot by john will booth.
OMG! I thought the same thing! when u said bearded i thought that u were seeing him ……………………………………………… Anyway i dont think that he likes u talking about him he is still with u. He might be trying to tell u how he died, also. Anyway, when in a room alone, ask him if he is there and………… i guess u could thank him for staying with u all the time like a guardian angel or something. U may not get a response but he hears u.
From what I can gather from the situation regarding Lincoln and Timothy, it seems that
Lincoln would be an authority figure a “king”.
Timothy is a subserviant figure “peasent/slave”
It is likely they are linked by the “chain” due to the fact that Lincoln is responsible for
Timothy’s demise.
Possibley Timothy was executed for some crime. Later it is found that he was innocent
of the offense. But due to Lincoln causing his death, Timothy is linked to him forever.
Always a reminder of what he caused to have happen to an innocent person.
This is my take on them.
I am very glad that they were not my imaginary friends!
Thank you for sharing your story.
At a young age a childs mind can be open to such things as spirits and imaginary friends, without being scared. As the child does not yet know these things are not considered to be a usual accurance.
I too am glad that Lincoln and Timothy were not my imaginary friends. I think they were probably spirits, because i had an imaginary friend as a child but he was a monkey!
I can vaguely remember him, his name was just ‘monkey’. My best friend at the time (we were about 4 years old) used to get cross with me when we played dolls because i used to insist on pushing around an empty pram with my imaginary monkey in it!!
I think our friends were different in the way that ‘monkey’ was just a figure of my imagination and nothing more. Although i did used to sense spirits as a child and have seen one and for me these were entirely diffrent things.
Thanks for sharing
First off, thank you all for your comments and personal stories of imaginary friends. They are much appreciated.
As for what was written…
I wonder about the whole slave-master dynamic…
It’s funny. I never thought about connecting Lincoln to the Civil War or Timothy to slavery.
Timothy appeared as a white boy about age 7. His chains were quite distinct… metal rings at the neck, wrists, and ankles-and a chain connecting them to his mid-section. He never seemed encumbered by them.
I was concerned that I encountered some kind of spirit(s)… or demons. Looking back, I feel as if I was worked over by a “good cop/bad cop” duo, with Timothy being the good cop & Lincoln the bad one.
However…
with Ginklings mention of the Civil War, I started thinking about my family history. I do not think that I am descended from slave owners–my people were poor coal miners (one side native american indian, the other came to the states in the 1840s) but my mother was born in a former plantation house that had been abandoned in the Appalachian Mountains… one that had slave quarters off to the side. My mother said that she remembers all kinds of paranormal activity going on there… weird lights glowing in the window by the dining room, and some ghost was supposed to be seen at night in the slave quarters. They moved out when she was 7 or 8, and she was happy to leave that place behind.
I wonder if something had followed her from that place…? A lot of weird, violent acts have taken place out that way. The isolation of the landscape breeds it. We lived on a farm, but it was not so very isolated.
Tonight, I asked whatever entities they were to forgive any disturbances that me or my family might have caused them. I hope that they find peace (and do not latch onto any other children… it was a weird, and ultimately disturbing relationship).
I guess that it’s all an enigma that I’ll wonder about until my dying day!
i might be thinking this but ive seen a girl maybe the age of 10 in a white hospitak gown with black hair outside of my front door….
Why do you think you stopped seeing both of them after Timothy walked you home?
I am currently 13 and still have imaginary friends. and one day my bf came over to my house and when we went into my room he was staring at my bed and said i thought i was the only one over today when i turned around my imaginary friend casy was sitting there and i looked at my bf and said you can see him to? He told me he always saw me with that kid but never heard me mention anything about him. Creepy huh?
My cousin has this so called imaginary friend called Augustine…But I’m not very sure whether he is real or not….though he seems so real.She seems very serious about it and takes him everywhere.Before this-to us-he was nothing but a figment of her imagination,but now I think he may not just be in her head.How do I differentiate between imagination and reality?How did your relatives/those around you actually find out?Should i ask her to command to him to show some signs through movements like slamming doors shut or is it too risky?She started this ‘Augustine’ business only when they shifted into a new house-pretty old-at least a 100 or so.This place was infested with French folks,once upon a time and Augustine is a French name…so is my cousin.I dont really know…any suggestions?
I used to have many prentend friends but when my little brother died they went away.SUPER WIERD,BUT i love this story
Timothy Lincoln Beckwith (born October 14, 1968) is the son of Annamarie Hoffman and once was thought to be the son of her husband Robert Todd Lincoln …
This was off wikipedia when i searched google for timothy&lincoln… thought you might find that interesting….
inxxy’s comment gave me a kind of eerie feeling.. Knowing that it could possibly be those people that came to you as imaginary friends as a child.. Who knows what those chains could mean or what kind of foul play happened there..