And then, from her tablet screen, Bunnyjanjan leaped out—not as a ghost, but as a radiant hologram of kindness. She danced around the stage, painting rainbows with her ears, and whispered in every child’s ear: “You have magic too. You just forgot to look.”
“Oh my,” whispered Janella, her heart thumping. “You’re real?”
“Only when you believe I am,” chirped Bunnyjanjan, her voice like wind chimes. “And only because you drew me with love, not just lines.” bunnyjanjan janella ooi
That night, Bunnyjanjan sat on Janella’s pillow, her galaxy-eyes soft.
Janella hugged her tightly. “I’ll always need you, Janjan. But maybe now… I can be brave for others too.” And then, from her tablet screen, Bunnyjanjan leaped
From that night on, Bunnyjanjan became Janella’s secret companion. She would hide in Janella’s hoodie pocket during school, whispering funny comments about math problems (“Why is x always missing? Did anyone look behind the sofa?”). At lunch, when Janella sat alone under the old banyan tree, Bunnyjanjan would draw tiny, glowing doodles in the air—shooting stars, laughing caterpillars, teacups that waltzed.
“My imaginary friend is Bunnyjanjan,” she said softly. “You’re real
“You don’t need me to be brave anymore, do you?” she asked.