"Clay," you begin, "Are you..."
"A construct of your imagination based very closely on a friend from your past life who died violently?" Clay interrupts, "I had thought of that myself. I do not believe myself to be the embodiment of that Clay, as I have none of his memories. However, you seem to have sculpted my physical appearance and even some of my essence, such as my name, out of your memories of this man."
"He was my..." you start, again.
"Best friend," he interjects, "Yes, I know. And yet, as he died in adolescence, there was a potential romantic and sexual connection between you that had not yet developed. Your relationship was aborted, as it were. And so you created me in your afterlife, perhaps as an attempt to further explore this connection."
"But I didn't mean to..."
"Of course you didn't consciously create me to be a construct of the boy you once knew. But when you created, you didn't intend anything in particular, other than to create a friend. I am the result. I believe that what you created was based on your truest ideas of freindship, which are largely centered around the first best friend you ever had, Clay."
"I see..."
"I, however, am not Clay. I merely mimick his appearance. My memories are your memories, however I also am not you. I possess a much more logical, less human, if you will, intellect. I can mimic any personality, if you command me thus. But until you learn to harness your powers further, I will remain as I am."