"She isn't going to believe you, ya know."

Joshua's finger hovered over the number pad of the cordless phone, a perceptible tremor runs through him at the voice of Phil. It is a voice that gives no hint of gender and sounds like a cartoon character talking through a running fan. Actually, Josh wasn't even sure what gender Phil was.

"Who isn't going to believe me?" he asked, turning around to catch only a glimpse of tiny hooves disappearing beneath the beige ottoman. He shook his head, Phil never appeared the same way twice. Sometimes looking like a pixie or troll, an animal, a combination of animals or, often times, looking like a thing nightmares are made from.

"C'mon, Joshy, don't play coy with me! You know I'm talkin' about Jennifer! She's not buying your excuses anymore," Phil chittered angrily. A thing that had the head of a duck, a tiny body of a bear, and a goat's tail, clambered up onto the couch, turning to face Josh, paws resting on bear hips in a pose of annoyance.

Joshua threw the phone at Phil who fled the projectile with a surprised yelp, "Damn you, Phil! It's because of you that I have to make up these excuses!" he growled, stalking over to the couch to retrieve the phone from the floor where it had bounced off the cushions. He tapped the button that turned it off and on, the dial tone going silent.

"The last time I was with Jenn, you tried to push her down the stairs at the sports arena. If I hadn't been holding her arm, God knows what might have happened." That incident had really shaken him up, the remembrance of it effected him no less differently now and it was enough to make him drop down onto the couch limply. Joshua's life had changed drastically since Phil came into the picture.

This unexplainable creature came into being on a particularly bad day for him. A shipment he had sent out for his company had been lost. Josh was held accountable for it. His car had been towed because he had parked on a street on the day the city did street cleaning on it. That had cost him $75 to get it out of impound, plus a $35 ticket for the violation. He came home that evening to find that the toilet in his apartment had overflowed with raw sewage. It had taken two hours for maintenance to show up to clear the pipe and another two to clean up the mess. To top it all, his microwave oven blew a fuse and he had to go out to eat. He ended up drinking his dinner, too many vodka and tonics to remember.

He woke up curled up on the cool bathroom floor, the stringent smell of pine cleaner still discernable, blurry eyes trying to focus on a rather contemptible looking tabby cat, it's tail twitching rythmically. Slowly sitting up, his head throbbed unmercifully, his mouth held a sour taste and felt like he had tried to eat a pillow. "How'd you get in here pussycat?" he asked quietly followed by a groan from the effort.

"You really tied one on this time, eh, Joshy boy?" the cat stated in that eclectic voice that would always grate on his ears.

Joshua let out a most unmanly scream that he immediately regretted as his head screamed back at him.

He suffered out the hangover through out the night talking to the shape shifting creature, trying hard to understand why he was chosen by it to be the center of it's attention. Learning only the creature's name, one that he couldn't pronounce no matter how he tried and settled to call it Phil, the only part of the name he could utter. He also learned that he was the sole person who would be able to see or hear his unusual companion.

From that night on, Joshua's life as he knew it rapidly deteriorated. His work began to suffer, unable to keep his mind on any task, calling in sick frequently because Phil tormented him all night long and was eventually terminated. His social life dwindled down to where he rarely left the apartment. He was afraid to be around any of his friends, for when he was, Phil made it a point to cause them harm. Ranging from simple pranks of tipping a drink or plate of food into the unexpecting friend's lap, to more malicious acts of pushing them into the path of oncoming traffic. When the incident at the sports arena occurred, Josh resolved never to go out again. He loved Jennifer too much to see harm come to her.

Jennifer was losing patience with Josh, becoming suspicious that he was seeing another woman as his excuses not to see her continued. Their long conversations on the phone not appeasing the young woman's growing sense that she was being dumped.

Tonight was his last chance with the woman he had been faithful to for the past year. He was prepared to pop the big question and had even gone as far as purchasing an engagement ring just before losing his job. The plush pink ring box made an obvious bulge in the pocket his khaki colored Dockers. Josh had spoken to her earlier in the day while Phil was off somewhere else, doing who-knows-what mischief. He finally convinced her to meet him at their favorite Italian resturant with the promise that the would spend a quiet, romantic evening together. He would explain to Jennifer about Phil, tell her that, together, they could overcome the imp's nefarious vendetta against him.

He was just going to call her to confirm the date when Phil reappeared. How did he always know what he was going to do? It was as if Phil could look into his head or hear his thoughts. It left Josh feeling violated, nothing was private to him anymore.

"She'll be believe me, Phil. Don't sell Jenn short," he spoke, trying to keep his voice calm, "She's level headed and open minded."

Phil was now in the shape of a small green verigated, winged dragon. His forked tongue slithering out in a toothy smile, little wings fluttering to maintain his balance on the arm of the couch, "Oh, sure, Joshy boy. You keep right on thinking that she'll believe that a creature, only you can see and hear, has been making your life a living hell. She won't hesitate to call 911, have the Pyscho Squad on you in a heart beat. They'll carry you off! Put you in one of their loveliest rooms reserved one with your talented thinking!"

Snatching up a throw pillow in a blur of motion, he threw it forcibly at Phil, this time, smoking the irritating beast. "Damn you, Phil!" he voiced louder than he had intended, "Don't you dare show that...that...whatever face you possess when I get with Jennifer tonight! Or, I swear, I'll lock your pathetic carcass in a strong box and throw it into the ocean!"

Phil's cackling laughter came from a dozen different directions, filled with malice and an apparent glee that he was finally able to make Josh lose his tenous grasp on his composure. He was hoping to push the young man into irrational thinking, to make mistakes, mistakes he will come to regret later.

Trepidation had taken Joshua's heart, he should have heeded it but, he left his apartment to meet Jennifer thinking it was just his jangled nerves getting the best of him. He had the determination to go through with asking Jenn to marry him. Perhaps, with her constantly at his side, Phil may leave as he had come. Without fanfare, no introduction and, certainly, without invitation.

Dinner proceeded beyond his expectations. Jennifer was dressed to the nines. She was wearing the blue dress he was so fond of. The silky fabric clinging to womanly curves, the color accenting her eyes, making them look bluer than they were. She wore her hair piled up on her head, jeweled hairpins holding it in place. Her beauty took his breath away, so it was no wonder he forgot about Phil, even to the point of forgetting he was going to tell Jenn of him.

They returned to her apartment when dinner was over. Jennifer made lattes and together, in a candle lit room, Josh proposed to her. Her happiness showed in eyes bright with tears of joy. Then they kissed, sealing her acceptance and...her fate.

Josh drew back from the sweet kiss only to gasp seeing Phil behind her. All that showed of the imp was a a mouthful of teeth in a Cheshire cat smile, the glint of a wicked looking knife flashed in the candle light as it plunged into Jennifer's back at the base of her neck.

Her eyes widened with surprise, mouth dropping open, "Why, Josh? I thought you loved me?" were the last words she spoke before she slumped over into his arms. That's when Josh began to scream and scream. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His face was hot with the continous stream of tears, blubbering almost the same words Jenn spoke as she died, "Why, Phil, why? Why did you have to kill her?"

Dr. Carlson closed the the shutter to the window that allowed them to peer into the Quiet Room cutting off the heartbreaking scene of the straitjacketed young man. He turned to the obviously distraught couple, Joshua's parents, offering them a sympathetic smile.

"Joshua still maintains his innocence," he remarked as the three of them walked slowly down the hall, footsteps echoing in sterile edifice of the Psych Ward, back to the bank of elevators, "He is convinced that this Phil, this creation of his mind, murdered Jennifer Bedford."

"Dr. Carlson, I think that we should tell you," began Anita Towers, voice thick with sorrow, "Phil was Joshua's imaginary playmate when he was little. We thought he only created him to take the blame whenever he was bad."

Mark, her husband and step-father of Joshua, clenched his jaw, "Yes, whenever he broke something or caused some other mischief, he blamed Phil."

The grey haired psychiatrist pushed the down button, they would go down to the main floor where the professional offices were located. "Hmmm, when did Joshua first create Phil?" Carlson asked.

Fleeting looks of guilt passed between Anita and Mark before Anita took the courage to answer," Joshua was six. His father had died when he was five. They were very close. He became very angry when he found out Mark and I had married, claiming that he would never allow Mark to take the place of his father."

She continued the explanation once they had boarded the elevator, "For two years, Phil was a constant reminder. We thought Josh simply out-grew his imaginary companion." Anita sighed, eyes closing with resolution, Mark slid and arm about her shoulder in a feeble attempt to console her.

Suddenly, the elevator shuddered, then began to plunge from the tenth floor, the occupants screaming in horror.

From above, amidst the gears and cogs of the mechanisms that ran the car, the face of a sadistic minature clown peered down the shaft, laughing maniacally in a voice that sounded like a cartoon character laughing through a running fan.