Boo Under the Apple Tree

I lived in an abandoned house with my imaginary friend Boo. He's just a colorful hood with tiny arms,

legs, and huge eyes. The walls were grimy, ceilings covered in cobwebs.

I'm nonverbal autistic, and people say I'm too trusting. Every day, I'd wait under the

apple tree outside, catching fresh apples as they fell. That was all I ate. Boo never left my

side. He'd bounce around excitedly when the apples dropped, making me laugh

without sound. The house was falling apart, but with Boo there, it felt like home.

He understood me without words, celebrated the small things, and never judged

my silence. One day, a social worker found us. She saw the conditions