Just Imaginary--Issue #12

By Rebekah Unger

Where I walk, I’m faded, a blur, hardly there. Though I don’t often walk anymore. I’m there, or I’m not. Or I’m somewhere in between, a ghost in the back of her mind. When I am there, even slightly there, it’s always with her. I couldn’t exist without her, literally. I remember when I was strong, and almost solid. So much more there. She was younger.

“Let’s go somewhere,” she’d say. “Let’s go to the mountains.” She always wanted to go somewhere and see something. She believed she could go to the moon. She still does.

She doesn’t play with me anymore. There’s no more exploring caverns or racing through the woods. Instead she talks to me. She talks about all the small beautiful things in the world around her, how she wishes her camera could capture exactly what she sees. She talks about her far-fetched dreams and hopes of fame and adventure. She talks about her friends, and the new boy at school, and her good grades in geography.

She’s an animated speaker. She paces when she gets excited. She tugs at her thick brown hair, which always falls in her face unless she puts it up. She’s quite fond of her hair. She’s a bit vain.

I’m different than I used to be. I change as she changes, and her need of me changes. I was once the background companion who followed her on dramatic adventures. Now I’m a silent, listening friend, with whom she can share everything that makes her happy.

She used to look at me as if I were real. A solid person. Now she rarely sees me in any form. I’m just a reassuring presence. I’ve never been much more than a ghost. Now I’m less than that. I’m fading. Soon she’ll grow up, and I’ll watch her. She’ll travel everywhere, taking her thick brown hair and love of beauty with her, capturing everything with her camera. She’ll find someone else to share her life with, and then she won’t need me anymore. I’ll fade completely.

I’ve only ever been a picture in her mind, a ghost.

I’m just imaginary.