Miss Array

As you well know, my childhood was a good one. People always have such bad memories of theirs. So, the fact that I can’t remember much of the early stuff is a good sign. However, from eleven onwards, the memories are exactly where I left them. Which can only be blamed on Jean moving in.

I didn’t know what a stepsister meant at the time, all I knew is what it wasn’t. And at first, she didn’t feel like one. She’d never be Carla. So, we tried and tried to dislike her. So much so, till this day, we call that period “Jeanwhile”. I think Carla made it up though.

At eleven, after knowing her a few weeks, we would sooner continue violin lessons with Mrs. Macy than admit what Jean was. She had everything we wanted and things we didn’t know we did. Were we cuter? I’d still bet as much, but anyone around the three of us didn’t notice. Sometimes they didn’t even notice Carla. After feeling like that a few times, trying to dislike her wasn’t going to do it. So, we tried to hate her. But it never lasted long. How can it? Do you know how hard it is to hate someone who’s the embodiment of softness and sugar? It’s like trying to hate a golden retriever after they’ve peed on your favourite jumper or something.

Oh, sorry, I went off topic. Shortly after the “Jeanwhile” she started at my school. Carla told me it would happen; she was always right but I didn’t want to believe her. Within days, teachers, students, and my own crush only notice her too. Worship her every move. She’d get invited to their houses. She’d get invited before me. She’d get invited instead of me. At this point they’d completely forgotten Carla. I'll never forget the plot Carla and I made to steal all Jean’s school clothes, leaving her only with her bottom of the baskets. We had convinced herself she was so popular because she always had the nicest dresses. So, when she came into school wearing pyjamas and we were wearing her stuff. Apart from Jean, who complimented my dress and told me I could have it, it seemed we had become more invisible. Why couldn’t I be like her? Carla and I tried. But they lied, practice doesn’t make perfect. So, practice didn’t make us Jean.

Weeks pass, her popularity only increases. At this point the only person who wants to hang out is Carla. As twins do. I wish I could say at this point I hated her during these weeks, but I can’t. In fact, I had not only seen what caused people to adore her. I had begun to adore her myself. You can’t spend that much time with an angel and not feel the tingle of its sparkles.

She had started playing the violin with us and she’d never played before. Carla thought she’d be a natural, but I guess even Carla can be wrong. Jean was so unexplainably bad, especially for someone who had played guitar. However, as she was struggling, she did the unthinkable. She asked us for help. Knowing that perfection needed help from us. I feel that same tingle just thinking about it. From that day I practiced and practiced, never skipping, just so Jean could ask me one more time. And when she kept doing that, it was only a matter of time until we’d be best friends. Carla and I would have a real sister.

This part is hard for me. So, forgive me for being brief. It all went wrong when my stepdad cheated and went to live with his soon to be wife. We were 17 and only months away from 18. She could have stayed until we became adults and moved out together, I know she could have. But Mother didn’t want any of his things around. So, when Jean told us, it was the worst day of our life. Between “Jeanwhile” and then, Jean had pushed us to become violinists, to meet our boyfriends, who now are our husbands. There is no me or Carla without Jean. What made us special was gone. Being here now, I can admit it has never come back. Sure, we called sometimes, but it was different, much too different. I know if Carla was here, she’d think the same, but she’d never be able to say it. She could only really ever speak to me about things.

Sorry I rambled a bit, but I’m sharing all this as a long-winded I miss her. More than anything and I don’t think I will ever stop. All my fame and success, tell me to throw it away and I will, all to get back to the way things were. I know the same goes for Carla.

“That’s touching, truly it is. Somehow, you have given it more emotion this time. But Ms Array, seriously, the Asylum only allows you one more session before trial and we haven't made any progress. So, let’s take a break next week. I’ll request for an extension. During that time, try and reflect — preferably on these topics. You’ve mentioned Carla again. However, as I've said before, in your family registry and in any census in the state for that matter, you are an only child. Who is she? Also, we will need to get into what happened the night the police found Jean dead in your car?”