Some children have imaginary friends. And while no one can see, hear, or touch mine, I am beginning to think she is far from imaginary.

While I have seen my friend for as long as I can remember, our troubles began in 2nd grade.

Before this I had no friends bar her. I was not lonely but I was sick of parents and peers looking at me with pity whenever I tried to explain my friend, or started talking to her.

So I decided I needed a real friend. (Imaginary one’s were for babies anyways).

Her name was Jessie, and I remember her two braided pigtails and the pudgy face boys teased her for.

Jessie, like me, had no friends so I figured she couldn’t say no. And while my friend warned against it, I asked her during lunch if we could be BFF’s.

Her face lit up in excitement, and although I had no need for friends, it felt good that I could make her so happy.

All the while my imaginary friend is hissing and snarling at the girl. Jessie couldn’t see of course, but her face suddenly went white.

As white as the ghost she quickly became.