There's not much I can remember. But what I do remember clearly was the fact that I was WAY more extroverted than I am now. And my mind was very imaginative. My said that I had an imaginary friend. I had stuffed animals and pretended the were real, you know, I'd talk to them, they'd "respond".
But there was this one (that I think was Ernie from Sesame Street), that creeped the hell out of me at night. It was at the top of my closet, that was like a cabinet. It was high enough for me to see its eyes and opened mouth. Every night, it felt/looked like it was staring straight at me. I'd close my so tight while thinking,"Aaahhh! It's so scary!". But in the morning, sometimes, it's like I never felt scared, and other times I'd be like,"OMG, it's finally over" with a sigh of relief. To this day I never understood why I haven't told my mom this; I think it's because I was afraid it might attack me.
Thinking back, I find it funny how I used to do that. And how creepy that plushie was.