Ghost

When I was a kid I had an imaginary friend. Her name was Chrysanthemum, but I always called her Chrys. She had long hair the color of piano keys and wore a dress that smelled like home.

We met on the playground. I noticed that she would run and play with the other kids, but they never talked to her or even looked at her. She seemed lonely, so I asked if she would play with me. She was so surprised that I could see her.

I went to that playground every day, and every day she was waiting for me in that same lovely dress. We played all kinds of games – tag, hide-and-seek, even checkers. Then school started, and I saw her less.

Years passed. I went to college, then moved out. I would still visit home, and when I did I always made sure to check in on Chrys. She never changed. When I told her about my wedding, she smiled brightly and I wondered at how many of those were baby teeth.

Well, I’m old now. My parents are gone, my sisters. Friends both old and new. My husband. That one was the hardest.

I went back to that playground. I sat on a swing and waited for her. It took a while, but sure enough she came skipping over to me.

“Hi, Edna!” She smiled just like she used to.

“Hi there, Chrys.” I said. “Have you made any new friends?”

“Yeah! There’s a boy who just moved to town. He can see me too!”

I thought I would be jealous. Like she was a gift just for me. But I guess nothing in this world’s just for anyone. We all have to share.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Did YOU make any new friends?”

“Of course. But they’re all gone now. It looks like I’m the last one to go.”

“Then… Who do you play with?”

“I don’t do much playing anymore.” I showed her my translucent skin, the shake in my fingers, bruises where the blood simply won’t stop leaking. I thought she would be put off, but she smiled that lovely smile.

“You can do a little playing.” She brought out a little bag of checkers pieces.

We played for a while, saying nothing that mattered too much. She beat me twice.

“Do you want to get old?” I asked. She shrugged.

“Is it hard?”

“Oh, yes. The hardest thing in the world. When you get to be my age, all you really want is to be a kid again.”

She seemed to mull that over. Then she jumped up and pointed at a boy on the other side of the playground. He was looking right at her.

“There he is! That’s my new friend, Jacob.”

“He seems like a very nice boy.”

“Mhm! We play a lot. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll see you later, Edna!”

And I watched her skip away. The same dress, the same smile, the same footsteps. She was exactly as I remember. And for the first time, I wept for her.