So I left my house and walked over to the neighbor's. I knocked on the door. The wife opened it. She hasn't been going to work lately.
"Hello," I said. "I, uh, I live across the street from you. I just, I mean, yesterday I saw your daughter, I mean, I saw that your daughter was playing in the street." Not a complete lie. Unless their daughter is just a figment of my imagination.
"Oh," she said. "Yes, thank you. We should be more careful and keep a watchful eye on her." She looked nervous, but at least she had confirmed her daughter was real.
"Did you adopt her?" I asked point blank.
"Yes," the woman said. "Yes, that must have been it. We adopted her." It seemed like she was just now realizing it.
"So what's her name?" I asked.
This simple question seemed to cause a schism in the woman. Her scrunched her brow and squinted her eyes and said, "I'm sorry?"
"Her name?" I repeated.
"Oh," she said. "Sorry, I have a lot of my mind right now. She needs so many things, you know. Kids. I mean, we call her sweetie pie and pumpkin and our little angel-"
"But she does have a name, right?" I asked.
"Yes, of course," she said and then stopped. She turned, as if she was hearing some silent voice in her head. "I'm sorry, I have so much to do. Thank you for coming over, Mister?"
I gave her a fake name. She turned and went back inside, but before the door closed, I managed to catch a glimpse of the little girl again. I don't know how to describe her. Literally, I don't. I don't remember how she looked, nothing. I remember seeing her and then the door closed. But there's this...blank spot right before the door closing.
She's real, I know that. Now the question is: is it just my mind playing it's abnormal tricks on me or is there truly something wrong with this girl?