Sally
My mom ushered me inside, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. “Sit down, sweetie,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “You can tell me everything. I promise I’ll listen.”
My gaze drifted to Jerry, who was sitting quietly in the corner of the room. Mom seemed to sense my unease and asked, “Do you want Jerry to be here, or would you rather he leave?”
I hesitated for a moment before responding, “I’d like him to leave, please. This is between us, Mom.”
Mom nodded understandingly. “Alright, then. Jerry, please, can you give us a little moment?” she asked, her eyes locked on his.
Jerry nodded and stood up. “Sure thing. Remember, we have that little meeting with the kids?” he said, his voice low and gentle.
Mom nodded, her eyes still fixed on Jerry. “Yes, don’t worry. We’ll discuss it later.”
With that, Jerry disappeared from the room, shutting the door behind him. The sound of the door closing seemed to echo through the room, leaving me and my mom alone in an uncomfortable silence.
I broke the silence, my voice filled with emotion. “But that meeting… What’s it about?” I asked.
“You don’t have to worry. You’ll hear it all yourself. Anyway, please, baby, tell me everything. I need to know.”
As we sat there, our eyes locked in a deep, unspoken understanding. My mom’s gaze was filled with a mix of sadness and longing, while mine was a jumble of emotions I couldn’t quite untangle.
And then, I began to talk, the words spilling out of me like a dam had burst. Memories long buried began to resurface, and I felt myself being pulled back into the past.
I was seven years old again, sitting in the field with my identical twin sister. We were signing to each other, our hands moving swiftly as we communicated.
“Last night, I couldn’t sleep,” my sister signed, her eyes wide with worry.
“Why?” I asked, my hands moving in response.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she replied. “Mom took you to her room and left me in the sitting room. I was really scared. I don’t like staying alone in the dark.”
My heart went out to her, and I felt a surge of protectiveness, but it was sad there was nothing I could do to help her.
“Why can’t Mom treat us the same?” she asked, her hands shaking with emotion. “Is it because I can’t speak?”
I tried to reassure her, signing “But I’m here for you.”
But my sister’s face contorted in anger, and she snapped, “You’re not here for me. You’re never here for me.”
The argument escalated, and my sister stood up, her eyes blazing with anger. I followed suit, my heart racing with anticipation.
We were standing at the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping our black, long hair into a frenzy. The ground beneath our feet was uneven, and the drop-off was steep.
Her face contorted in a mixture of jealousy and rage. “I’m so jealous of you,” she sighed, glaring venomously. “Mom treats you like a treasure while I’m treated like a rag. I just wish you could die.”
I was taken aback by her words, and I stumbled backward, my eyes wide with shock. “What do you mean, Sally?” I asked, trying to process her outburst.
But before I could react, she charged towards me, her eyes streaming with tears. I realized, too late, that she intended to push me off the cliff.
I had to think fast to save myself. I darted to the side, avoiding her outstretched hands. But in doing so, I inadvertently caused her to lose her balance.
Time seemed to slow down as I watched in horror, powerless to stop it. My sister’s eyes widened in terror as she stumbled backward, her arms flailing wildly. And then, she vanished over the edge of the cliff, plummeting downwards into the unknown.
I was left standing alone, my heart heavy with grief and guilt. The sound of her screams still echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder of the tragedy that had just unfolded.
I screamed so loud, the sound echoing off the cliff walls as I rushed down to the bottom, my heart racing with fear. There, I found my sister lying in a pool of blood, her body broken and still.
I tried to shake my sister awake, begging her to respond, but it was too late. My sister, Sally, was gone.
Overcome with grief and guilt, I cried uncontrollably, her body shaking with sobs. In a desperate attempt to make things right, I took off the necklace mom had bought for me and put it on my sister’s lifeless body.
Then and there, I made a shocking decision to switch us. I swapped our dresses, taking the better one that mom had bought for myself and putting it on her sister’s body. That was when I, Sadie, became Sally and that my dead twin, Sally became Sadie.
I made a vow from then to take her identity while she took mine. Mom doesn’t deserve any of us! I took on the responsibility of being my dead sister, Sally, assuming her identity and leaving her own behind.
When our mom and others came to take her sister’s body away, mom was furious and sad that it was the verbal daughter who had died, not the non-verbal one she had despised and mistreated.
Surprisingly, my mom didn’t even know the difference between her two daughters, and that was how I was able to switch places with Sadie without her noticing.
Her anger and grief consumed her for days, and in a fit of rage, she abandoned me at an orphanage without even a second glance.
But now, as my mom looked at me, she saw the truth. She saw the daughter she had mistreated, the one she had relegated to the shadows. Tears streamed down her mom’s face as she realized her mistake.
“So, you’re Sadie?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Not Sally.”
I nodded, and my mom broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her words barely audible. “I’m sorry for treating you like this. I’m sorry for treating your sister badly. I’m really, really sorry.”
With that, she burst into uncontrollable sobs, her body shaking with raw emotion. I, on the other hand, remained frozen, my eyes fixed on her face as it contorted into a kaleidoscope of anguish, a heartbreaking spectacle that seemed to shift and change with every passing moment.