Alex Henders was a young girl, only 15 years old. She wasn’t one of those people who just seemed like an interesting person. She wasn’t one of those people who has an infinite number of friends. She was just Alex Henders from down the street.
She and her family lived in a dull neighborhood. The homeowners were mostly older couples, with either zero kids or already-grown kids. Alex was mostly alone besides her parents. She didn’t have anything to do in the neighborhood. She didn’t have many friends.
When that young boy moved into the neighborhood, no one knew who he was. He was just that boy from the other side of the street. Probably around the same age as Alex. Probably had some sort of life outside of this new one. But there was nothing specific about him. Alex was thrilled to hear about this new boy. A million thoughts ran through her head.
The boy was an only child with a mother and a father. He had a dog, a chocolate lab. His parents didn’t seem to care about what he did. Obviously they provided for him: he dressed nice, he was clean, he didn’t look malnourished, and he ran through the neighborhood almost every day. But his parents just never seemed to care about his life. Granted, they never seemed to be home. They would leave early in the morning and come home around 10 at night. Without them there, he fended for himself pretty well.
It was early June. Alex was taking a walk to clear her mind. She wanted to get away for a little while, away from her stress from school and her own insecurity. When Alex turned the corner, she bumped into the boy as he was running. She’d seen him from her window, but never up close. He was handsome, with beautiful green eyes paired with dark brown hair. He was tall, with a slim build.
“Sorry,” said the boy.
“Oh no you’re okay. I didn’t see you.”
“I didn’t see you there.”
“What’s your name?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know your own name?”
“I guess it sounds pretty silly, but no, I do not know my own name.”
“So what do people call you?”
“I don’t talk to people really, but the few times I have I’ve been called John Doe.”
“So is John Doe your name?”
“Not really, it’s just what I’m called. Not my official name.”
“Oh. Well my name’s Alex. Nice to meet you!”
“Yeah. See ya around.”
The boy continued his run. Alex had completely forgotten about everything else. She couldn’t think of anything but the boy. How could someone not have his own name? John Doe? That’s just the name they give to someone whose real identity is unknown. She thought everyone had a name unique to him. She thought that was just something that applied to everyone; if you didn’t have a name, you weren’t a person. Obviously John Doe was though. But was he a person? A member of society? Was he anything but a living, breathing human being? Was he a classmate? A son? A friend? Who else was in his life besides his parents? He said he had never spoken to anyone but his parents. Wait, why did his parents have a shared name but he was just John Doe?
The next day Alex went for another walk. She wanted to know more about “John Doe.” She wanted to know how he lived. How he learned. How he ate. What he did during his free time. His likes and dislikes. She was curious about him. It wasn’t a middle-school “I like you” kind of attraction. It was a curiosity. She wondered. She couldn’t think of him as a real person. Just as a human being, if that makes sense.
Luckily, she ran into him again. He stopped and walked beside her. They talked about their childhoods, and their favorite memories, almost anything. It was a comfortable conversation. It was natural. But one thing was off. John hardly had anything to say.
This became a regular thing. It was weird if they didn’t walk together. They became very close friends.
Mid-August, Alex went on her usual afternoon walk, but the boy wasn’t running. The same thing happened the next day. And the next. And the next. Alex was scared. She had no idea where he was. She didn’t have a way to talk to him. She didn’t know his parents. She’d only ever interacted with him on their walks. But she was scared something had happened to him. She was scared he didn’t want to see her again. Did she say something wrong? Did he injure himself? Why wasn’t he with her?
Then, his parents walked out of their house to walk the dog. Alex saw them and recognized them. She said hi as they passed and asked where the boy was. They gave her a puzzled look and exchanged glances. They had no idea what boy Alex was talking about. They were wondering why the strange teenage girl from down the street was asking them about their “son.” What son?
Alex went home, still thinking about the boy. Her mother walked into her room, unnoticed. She looked up from her homework and saw her, staring at her with a worried look on her face.
“Why have you been going on so many walks?” She asked.
“Oh, in June I met the boy who moved in down the street; sometimes we go on walks together.”
“What are you talking about? You walk alone. I’ve never seen a boy, or anyone, with you.”
Her mother left the room. Throughout the next year, reality hit her. Alex had imagined the boy. She didn’t believe it at first. She believed that he was her friend; she was living in her own reality. She had created her own little world inside her head, out of her own boredom. Out of the dullness of her current life. That was her favorite summer: the summer when she met the boy. But he was just a figment of her imagination, not her friend. That was why he didn’t have his own name. His parents never gave him a name, because he didn’t have parents. He was not real.
Now, seven years later. Little Alex Henders, 22, was in the mental hospital. Her mother had submitted her to the place when she was just 16. She’s never left. She had a friend, named John Doe, who was about her age. He was handsome, with beautiful green eyes paired with dark brown hair. He was tall, with a slim build. They go on walks around the property every day, Alex telling John about her life, without him saying much.