The Periwinkle Specter

  
She appeared a pale periwinkle specter sitting on the edge of my bed. She often visited when I felt alone or scared offering silence. Nothing ever happened or was said. Her mood was reflected in simple gestures and slight facial expressions. Sometimes she comforted; sometimes she condemned.

I saw her only briefly between seventh and ninth grade. After that, she was gone or lost to puberty. I never found her again even though I searched. She was there only for the transition from childhood dreams to mature nightmares. Rarely are those two things different. But a line does exist, and once crossed things change.

My sister told me she saw her too. She was four or five and perfectly described her dress layered with petticoats and the lace decorating her collar. I knew she saw her not only from the description; she too was alone an scared at times. I was hopeful that the specter's silence might space my sister some hurt.

I went home the Christmas of 2008 and tried to find my pale periwinkle friend. I wanted to thank her and let her know how things turned out: all okay.

I didn't find her. But I did sit at the end of my bed just listening to the silence and taking comfort in its perfectly absent embrace.

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