Back in elementary school, I used to be friends with the neighbor boy, Dan. We both lived on the edge of a large wooded area. During the summer, he and I would play out in the woods. We would make pretend we were warriors protecting our forest kingdom. Kind of like Bridge to Terabithia, but more violent.

We had built a "castle" out of some old plywood my dad gave us. We fashioned weaponry from sticks and rocks. And we would pretend to fight elves and goblins and every sort of fantasy creature you can imagine. Honestly, I know it sounds stupid, but at the time, it was awesome.

The only thing that would bring us back to reality was Dan's older half-brother, Kyle. It was his life goal to make our lives miserable. He would always knock over the castle or toss our weapons into the swamp. Dan called him the "Evil Troll."

Unfortunately, for Dan, the torment extended beyond our imaginary kingdom. As Dan would describe it, Kyle would touch him in a "gross way" on an almost daily basis. At the time, I didn't understand, nor did I ask any more questions. All I knew was whatever Kyle was doing to Dan, it was changing him. And soon, that change became visible during our imaginary battles.

"One day, we will defeat the Evil Troll by bashing in his brains," he said, while holding up his stick sword.

I would go along with it. Thinking that we were still pretending.

"We will bury him within the depths of the Great Swamp!" I would shout.

One day, towards the end of our summer break right before 4th grade, I went out to the woods to meet Dan. But he was nowhere to be found.

I headed up to his house and knocked on the door. I heard a lot of screaming and yelling from inside. Finally, Dan's dad opened the door. "I'm sorry, Dam can't play anymore," Dan's dad said. His eyes were filled with tears.

I looked behind him to see Dan sitting on the chair, with his head down. His mother was behind him, she was talking to someone on the phone. She looked over at Dan's dad and gestured at him. Dan's dad quickly shut the door.

The days following, I continued to go out into the woods. It wasn't the same without Dan. And after about a week, I knocked over the castle and headed back to my house.

"Hey, Johnny!"

I turned and saw Dan hiding in the brush.

"What's going on Dan?" I asked. "What happened?"

"We're going to leave soon, forever," Dan said.

"Why?" I asked.

Dan motioned out to the swamp.

"I did it, I did what we always said we would do. I bashed in the Evil Troll's brains and buried him in the Great Swamp."

"What do you mean?" I said. "Your parents are mad? It's just make believe."

"Not anymore," he said, his voice sounding different.

Dan's parents started to call his name and he quickly headed back to his house. That was the last I ever saw of him or his parents. They moved away the following week.

Call it innocence. Call it stupidity. Call it naivety. But it took me years to piece everything together. By the time I did, I was well into middle school

One summer day, when I was 13 years old, I ventured into the swamp and kicked my way through knee-high deep muck. And right there, in the middle of the swamp, I felt something below the murky surface. I knew exactly what...rather, who it was.

It was supposed to be fantasy. That's all I ever thought it was.

It wasn't supposed to be real.