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It's weird how sometimes I'll remember something from my past. I'll talk about it with my family. Since my grandma took excessive pictures of any fun time event I went to when I was younger, she's the one I usually talk to about my memories and I'd ask to see the pictures.

Recently I remembered going to a charity event at the school my grandfather worked at. I was really excited as he worked quite a few miles away, and seeing where he got to work was a rarity. There were kids everywhere, jump houses, games, snacks, and so on. Other grandparents and parents milled around with their family. I looked at all the games to play. I was allowed to play one game, as we were leaving soon. I choose to do the strength game, the one where they harness you to one end and have you run to the other, jumping at the wall to velcro yourself in place. I remember grabbing my friend's hand. I pulled her to the game, tugged her into line. Now it wasn't uncommon for her to be with my grandparents and I, nor was it uncommon for me to be with her and her grandparents. As young children we were constantly at each other's sides. We played the game, she won as she usually did. And it was a good day. Candy, friends, a sleepover later on. I can recall everything except sound and background people, which became vague, fuzzy blurrs in my memory.

I asked my grandma if I could see the pictures, like I always do. And she pulled the scrap-booking box out, dug around for a while then handed me the pictures.
"Have fun finding them," She said, because no matter how many times I looked at the old photos, they never got organized. I just shrugged and smiled, routine conversation as I searched through the photos and piled all the ones from that day onto the couch. There weren't many, 6 or 7 perhaps. I found one of me standing in front of the strength test game. I studied this picture the closest, as it contained what I remembered the most. I frowned after a minute, looked up at my grandma and asked if she had any more pictures somewhere else. She shook her head, and I should've known as I'd asked her that question before.

"Where's Klayre?" I asked, focusing more on the picture. My grandma laughed. "You two were always together yes, but if she isn't in any of those pictures she wasn't with us that day."

And that was what all the pictures had. Me, myself, and I. Eating candy, that I remember sharing with Klayre. Running with other kids, that I remember played tag with Klayre and I. All of the pictures I saw, I remembered her being there with me. But my grandma was right, if she wasn't in any of the pictures, she hadn't been there, because it was customary for my grandma to take a picture of us together somewhere.

Those memories had been fabricated, my brain had shoved a false memory of Klayre into them. And it makes me wonder how many more things I'll remember that will have imaginary friends inserted in.