"We need to talk." is the first thing Vern says to me the next morning. I'm already awake - I've been awake for a while. I look at him, my eyes detached and aloof. I sniff, and Vern notices, but he looks away, so I swallow the lump in my throat and straighten up on my bed.
"Yeah?" I ask him, though my voice sounds as if I swallowed an entire box of chalk.
He walks towards me until he's sitting on the edge of my bed. "It's about mom and dad. The truth about why I left."
"They kicked you out because you were stirring up lies." I repeat what I've always been told. Vern flinches at this, shutting his eyes tightly before opening them as he releases a sigh.
"...N-no." he says. "That's not what happened."
I'm silenced, hoping he would take that as a sign to continue, which he does.
"You may not believe me...but something bad happened when you were eight... o-or nine, I can't really remember." he says, reaching for my hand on the bed. He cradles it softly and I stare at him in confusion. "You, uh... had a sister. We had a sister." he says, and my heart halts before pumping faster than usual. My body heats up and I pull my hand back.
"What do you mean?" I ask. I'm taken back to the dream I had where a littler version of me was running alongside me by the stream, but it doesn't make any sense, because her name was clearly Juliet - my name is Juliet.
"You had a twin sister. You two were inseparable." he continues.
"I don't remember her." my voice cracks as I scan my brain for any memories from when I was nine or younger, but nothing comes up. I'm so frustrated that the ball in my throat grows bigger. "Are you joking?"
I can see this is hard for Vern, because he looks away. "I'm not joking."
I breathe in shakily, before nodding, urging him to continue.
"You two used to go on little adventures together and were always getting into trouble. You would climb trees, sneak into the horses stables, play hide-and-seek all over the place, even places you weren't supposed to be at." he continues. It makes sense because we grew up on a farm, and I do remember how often I would get up to mischief, I just don't remember a twin or any sort of sibling aside from Vern. Vern continues, his tone somber. "But you were more adventurous and sneakier than her, so mom and dad liked her better. One day, you two went down to the stream. It was late - past your bedtime, so we assumed you were asleep. When dad went to check up on you guys, he saw you were missing." my stomach fills with butterflies as my throat runs dry. I have a bad feeling about this story. "We looked everywhere for you guys. We checked the stables, the trees, the neighboring farms, until eventually we found you two by the stream." his voice is detached now, as if he's struggling to relive the past. "You were both floating face down." my heart sinks, the hairs on the back of my neck standing upright as I accidentally let out a tiny whimper.
"W-what do you mean?" I ask him. "What are you talking about?"
"We rushed in to pull you both out." he speaks as if he hasn't heard me. "Dad called the ambulance while mom sat and cried, completely soaked from when we retrieved you from the stream, as she held both your lifeless bodies to her chest." he swallows hard. "Then she dropped you and hugged your sister tightly. That's when I took you in my arms and cried softly. I always had a soft spot for you." he chuckles humorlessly. "I pulled you in to feel your heartbeat, and it was there. It was feint, but there. I started pushing up against your stomach and trying really hard to get you to come back, but I didn't know what I was doing. The ambulance came and tried to resuscitate you both, but only managed to save you. Our sister was far past saving."
I'm quiet now, listening as Vern pieces the puzzle of my childhood together, but still have too many questions to believe him just yet.
"When we got to the hospital," he goes on. "The doctor broke the news to us. Mom wouldn't stop crying, and dad just sat with his head in his hands. I, however, rushed into your room to see you. I was glad you were alive - at least one of you were. I rushed to you, took your hand in mine, and you looked up at me, smiled weirdly and asked who I am." I swallow hard. "Apparently the trauma mingled with the lack of oxygen to your brain caused you to forget some things. Doctor said it was temporary, and as time went on you gained a sense of memory...Who I was, where we lived, even who our dogs were... But there were things you never remembered."
"My sister." I said softly.
"That, and your own name." he says. I look at him sharply, completely confused.
"My name?"
He reaches for my hand again, and I can tell that the story is about to get even more intense. "When mom and dad found out about your memory loss...it was an opportunity for them to start fresh. Like I told you, they always liked her better. She had more manners, she was more affectionate, she wasn't as wild. You...were really rough around the edges. They...they saw this as an opportunity to get their daughter back. Your real name is Emma...which they said was your 'middle name'." he says, sadly. "Hers was Juliet. Mom and dad convinced themselves that you were her, and even convinced you that you were her. I was the only one with a conscience. I wrote to you after I left. I tried to tell you what happened."
"And when you wanted to tell me, they kicked you out... They hid the letters..." I conclude the story. Vern looks down, silenced.
"I'm sorry, Julie-"
"Don't." I say quickly, shutting my eyes hard, my voice breaking as the story sinks in. "Don't call me that. Don't call me her name." two tears drop from my eyes as I open them. I stand up, feeling as if my whole life was a lie, as if everything I am is a lie.
"Sorry." he says again, looking down. I cover my face with my hands and start bawling. I can't help it. I feel as if the walls around me are closing in, as if I'm suffocating. Ever since my parents died, things haven't been going right. I don't even see the point in me being alive, I don't see the purpose. Clearly I was meant to die...I did die. I'm dead. The true me, she died with the girl I'm supposed to be, many, many years ago.
I don't even hear Vern's phone ring, I don't hear him answer, I don't hear the conversation, I don't hear him hang up, I don't hear him say he has to go. I just feel the emptiness - internally and externally.
When I'm done crying, I go to the kitchen for a glass of water. I stop and hesitate, turning my head towards the window. I look away before rushing to the hook, slipping off my car keys quickly. I shut the apartment door before rushing out of the building and towards my car.
I get in quickly, a fiery determination in my eyes as I start the car and drive off. My mind isn't on the road, it isn't on anything but one thing. I think about everyone who would be hurt, but then I think about how hurt and damaged I am, beyond repair. I accelerate and turn into an unknown street. There's poetic justice in this, I would say. Her life ended the same way as her parents. The parents who never loved her.
I let out a tiny chuckle, an exhausted, humorless chuckle as I speed into a thick, tall tree. I hear honks, screams and brakes screeching, but upon the impact, I feel my head hit the steering wheel before knocking back against the seat. As my vision blurs, I feel something trickling down the side of my face. I can't keep my eyes open to see what it is. I can't keep my eyes open at all.
