The Other Twin

Karen

Prologue

For our entire lives, Essence and I were textbook identicals. We looked exactly the same, from our chocolate brown complexion and almond-shaped brown eyes, to our coarse, shoulder-length, jet black hair. We walked alike, talked alike, and of course, we dressed alike.

Growing up, Essence and I had most of the same friends and loved playing twin tricks on them. We did everything together and hated being apart. When teachers separated us in elementary school for our own good, I cried crocodile tears. Essence would wipe my face and say, Just be brave, Bunnie. We’ll be back together soon. Then we would hug and nuzzle noses.

My name – Ebony – was hard for her to say, so she called me Bunnie. I called her Sisi, because she was my sister. Those names stuck.

I loved having Essence as my sister and even more as my twin. She was my first and best friend, and I was hers. We were each other’s courage in scary times; comfort in hurting times; and happiness whenever we got sad.

We even had our own twin-sense, which meant we knew each other’s thoughts and could finish each other’s sentences. We could even talk to one another without actually speaking.

Even though we were mirror images, Essence was the outfront twin. I was never far behind. Like when we ran track in high school, she might win, but I’d place a close second. Sometimes, we tied. No matter what, she always waited for me at the finish line, cheering me on. She outpaced me in other areas of our young lives, too – reading, doing chores, even getting dressed in the morning. However, she never considered her work done until I finished as well.

No one ever gave much thought to why I stayed a step behind. I was born a minute after her so maybe that’s how God designed us. Whatever the reason, for my whole life, my twin sister has been the unattainable standard that I – and pretty much the world – measured myself against.

Who knew my life as my sister’s twin would drastically change one day and send my world into a tailspin?

Chapter One

I wake up early on this Friday morning feeling stressed and anxious about the drive back to school. Seven hours in the car with Essence will surely grate my already frayed nerves. Sending one child off to college brings about a certain level of tension for any family. Imagine navigating the return of two kids at the same time. Add to that dynamic these once interchangeable, indistinguishable, inseparable twins have declared a silent war on each other. Stressful? We’re talking DEFCON-1. That’s the situation in our house right now as we prepare to drive from D.C. back to Winslow, Connecticut to begin our sophomore year at Bryce College.

Memories of my unforgiving freshman year weigh on me like an elephant on my back. My high hopes and grand expectations that college would provide easy academic success, an enviable social life, and the romance of my dreams never materialized. My grades? Far from stellar. My presence on the social scene? Sub-par. Dating? Total fail. I felt like a complete disappointment and desperately wished I could’ve hit Ctrl-Alt-Delete to restart that whole experience.

My sister, unlike me, killed it in her first year. She made a ton of friends, dated cool guys, and made the Dean’s List. I was low-key jealous watching her excel, but happy for her at the same time . . . in the beginning. When she got tight with the popular mean girls on campus, she turned against me. Behind their backs, I call them the DivaWannaBees or DWBs. They wear expensive-looking clothes, carry knock-off Louis bags, and flood their IG feeds and SnapChat stories with staged pictures of them with other social imposters. Bad and bougie? Not. They may have the whole campus fooled, but not me. I know Essence and her friends are a bunch of fake snobs.

As much as I had hoped and prayed that my sister would rise above their bad influence, she formed an impenetrable bond with those girls and purposefully and painfully cast me out. To add insult to my misery, out of nowhere, she decided to untwin me just two months into our first semester.

Essence walked into my dorm room and closed the book I was reading; her way of demanding my attention.

Ebony, we need to talk.

Okay. What now?

I always seemed to be doing, saying, or thinking something that she didn’t like and this type of conversation had become routine for us. For me, it was exhausting. But she seemed to enjoy tormenting me.

Well it’s not a specific thing, she began. It’s everything.

So, everything I do bothers you today? I asked in amazement. Well . . . I’m so sorry.

As insincere as it was, I wanted my apology to end the discussion. Of course, it didn’t.

Shut up and listen, Essence barked.

I hated for anybody to tell me to shut up. It was rude and disrespectful. Essence knew that but apparently didn’t care. A foul clapback was my first thought. But remembering the advice my idol, Michelle Obama, gave - When they go low, we go high -- I took a deep breath and kept it high.

Okay, I began, in a non-confrontational, you-have-my-full-attention tone. What do you have to say?

I’ve been thinking. She hesitated. I couldn’t believe she was scared to say what was on her mind after rolling up on me like the Big Bad Wolf.

Okaaaay, I said, gesturing for her to continue, come out with it, or leave me alone.

That’s exactly what I’m trying to do – leave you alone. No, actually, she yelled, I need you to leave me alone. I’m tired of you always being in my shadow, following behind me, copying everything I do. You need to stop it. Now.

In my humble opinion, Essence had officially lost her mind. I never copied her. We’re twins.

Do you hear how ridiculous you sound, Sisi?

Don’t call me that, she commanded. I’m Es.

You’re crazy is what you are. You can’t stop being something you were born as, I said with increasing bewilderment in my voice.

Showing no regard for scientific facts or any love she once had for me, Essence announced her position and it was final.

I can do whatever I want and what I want is to not be hopelessly tied to you. Get your own life. Mine is no longer available for you to use.

Essence disconnected herself from me that day, which is still an inconceivable notion for me. We had always viewed ourselves as being two expressions of one existence and we treasured that connection. Our parents said God gave us that bond. Nobody but us understood it. My unanswered question was why would she want to throw all that away? But throw it away she did. Now, she’s just mean to me every chance she gets.

Hold up, Essence shouts, stopping me in the hallway outside my room. "That betta not be my Crooklyn t-shirt you got on."

Why she feels the need to yell at me this early in the morning, especially when she’s standing three feet away, is another mystery I’ll never understand.

I have my own. I don’t need to wear yours, I fire back.

I don’t believe you, she insists.

So what.

So, prove it.

Essence posts up in front of me with her arms folded waiting for me to respond. I ignore her. It never mattered until she got brand new if I wore her clothes or if she wore mine. Her untwinning me must’ve erased her memory of all the times when we bought the same clothes because we actually have the same taste, or the times she took my clothes without asking me and kept them. Oh wait, that just happened two days ago. I got so sick of her claiming my stuff was hers that I wrote my name in my clothes just like our mom did when we went to sleep-away camp in grade school.

Bunnie, if that’s your shirt I said prove it.

You want proof? Here.

I snatch my shirt off and shove the tag with my name on it in her face.

See, it’s mine. Is this enough proof for you?

She slaps my hand and the shirt away. With her nose turned up she says, O-M-G, put your clothes back on. I can’t believe you sometimes.

She can’t believe me? Wow.

After that encounter, I do everything in my power to avoid Essence as we make final preparations to leave. While our dad carries the l set bags outside, I take my travel essentials - ear pods, back-up phone battery, pillow, snacks – and sit in the car by myself. This alone time allows me to prepare mentally for this trip, knowing I’d rather walk over hot coals all the way to Winslow than ride in luxurious comfort anywhere near Essence. Actually, I’d prefer for her to walk on those hot coals - barefoot. Imagining that provides me with a moment of sheer delight.

Every trace of happiness vanishes as soon as our parents and Essence get in the car. She’s already bragging about her big sophomore year plans.

I definitely plan to declare my major and become more active in BSU and the Poli Sci Club, maybe even run for President. I’m also gonna apply for the Bryce Ambassador program, and my girls and I might pledge this year, too.

It takes everything in me not to scream Stop talking. Doesn’t she know the last thing I wanna hear is how she plans to conquer the world?

My salvation comes from the music streaming app I down- loaded onto my phone. With a tap of the screen, a Drake playlist floods my ears and drowns out the grating chatter in the car. While most of the lyrics only distract me, the lines from God’s Plan hit me deep in my spirit.

I been movin’ calm, don’t start no trouble with me.

Tryna keep it peaceful is a struggle for me.

I worry myself to sleep thinking about God’s plan for me.

Chapter Two

The drive to school takes what feels like an earthly eternity. The weather, for most of the ride, matches my mood. Dreary and gray. Essence fell asleep after our breakfast stop three hours ago so I’ve been spared her annoyance since then.

We reach Bryce Lane around two in the afternoon. An occasional burst of color pops through the otherwise dull landscape bordering this mile-long thoroughfare that leads us to the school. Once we reach campus, the scenery becomes alive as hearty green bushes now hug the road. Sun rays begin peeking through the clouds as if to announce our pending arrival. Rows of Bryce’s signature yellow tulips accent Stone Gate, the century-old archway that serves as the official entrance to the college. Crossing its threshold spikes my anxiety level as the inescapable reality of another school year hits me like a ton of bricks.

My mind takes its own ride as we pass Founders Hall, the oldest building on campus. The official Welcome Freshmen banner hangs above the doorway of this grand edifice dedicated to Bishop Montague Bryce, the man who had the vision to build this school. That sign is so ironic for me. The only welcome Founders Hall ever extended to me as a freshman came in the form of frequent invitations from my academic adviser, whose office is on the third floor, to discuss my underwhelming performance. Those visits left me feeling anything but welcomed.

The campus in other ways looks and feels deceptively inviting. Blossoms of every kind and color fill flower boxes in front of the buildings we pass on the way to our dorm, which enhances their external lure. But inside of more than one of them lay bits and pieces of my broken spirit and shattered hopes. In a week, these flowers will be dead, the signs will be back in storage, and Bryce will again show itself as the same dream-killing place it’s always been to me; one I hoped never to see again.

After winding through move-in day traffic, we reach the dorm Essence and I will call home this year. Everyone here refers to it as The Castle, but there’s nothing palatial or regal about it. The Castle is actually a modern co-ed dormitory that resembles an urban apartment building. It’s the only all-singles dorm at Bryce and the most sustainable living space on campus – green roof, solar panels, and lots of high efficiency gadgets. Our mom hates it. She says it destroys the charm of Bryce, which it does. But that charm can be pretty grungy and musty at times. I’ll take this kind of life over charm any day.

The Castle’s official name is Georgette Devers Castle Residence Hall. It consists of two identical towers, East and West, which are connected by a four-story atrium and indoor garden that supposedly will help improve air quality in the building.

At the end of freshman year, Princess Essence claimed she would die if she couldn’t live in The Castle as a sophomore and because of her superstar status on campus, she got her wish. For reasons unknown to me at the time, I also got assigned to The Castle, right next door to Essence in East Tower.

Apparently, as I later learned, the culprit in Residence Life thought he was doing Essence a favor by putting her twin nearby. Of course, she freaked all the way out. I wasn’t happy about it either because it reinforced her stupid theory about me living my life in her shadow.

Needless to say, Essence made sure my room was reassigned. Now I’m down the hall but in West Tower. I have a nicer room now than I had before, so I’m not complaining. Essence still hates me being so close.

We pull up to the designated move-in area and take our assigned positions. Our father’s masterful car packing and the helpful hands of the student volunteers make unloading quick and painless. Essence and I separately settle into our rooms, with our parents shuttling back and forth between us doing what parents do – nag and get in the way. Of course, Essence monopolizes most of their time, and for over an hour I’m alone in my room. Rather than do anything remotely resembling unpacking, I call my best friend, Taylor, who we call Tay, to let her know I made it to campus with my sanity intact.

Tay and I became friends when we were in pre-K/K and, second to Essence, she was my best friend growing up. We could talk about anything I couldn’t share with Essence, which was usually just stuff about Essence. Tay’s a year younger than me and I like the idea of being the older, wiser one. Lately though, she’s been the one dropping knowledge on me.

Tay chose not to go to college. When she first told me her parents were okay with it, I almost passed out. It still blows my mind.

I can’t believe your parents are letting you skip college to go to London for a fashion design internship, I told her when we talked a few days ago. I’m so hatin’ on you right now.

Stop lying, Ebbie, Tay said. "You know you’ve wanted to go to college your whole life. That’s all you used to talk about. That was never my dream. College ain’t for everybody. I might go one day. But for now, I’m pursuing my dream a different way, my own way."

You’ve always been a free spirit, I said.

That’s right. A free spirit walking in my own truth.

Tay had used that phrase as the caption for her high school yearbook page when she graduated a few months ago.

When our video-chat connects, her voice comes through first.

Ebbieeeee. Hi, babeeeee.

This singsongy greeting has been Tay’s way of saying Hi to me for years. It immediately boosts my mood. When I finally see her face, I greet her like I always do.

Hey girl, hey. I pause and look closely at my screen. Wait. Are you at the airport? I ask.

Yep, she says. Headed to the UK today.

But that’s not till Monday I thought.

It was, but I told you yesterday the fam decided to go early and spend the weekend being tourists or whatever. I don’t know. I’m just glad to finally be going.

Tay, you did tell me. I completely forgot. I’m sorry.

In her usual understanding way, Tay says, No apology needed. You had a lot goin’ on this week. Sooo . . . How did it go?

She looks at me like she wants my answer but is afraid to hear what it might be.

Awful, I cry out. Sisi was unbearable. Turning up the whine, I complain about every bad thing that happened from the time I woke up to my parents dumping me off in my room while they go off tending to her royal meanness, who’s already acting like she owns this place.

I’m not sure how I can survive another year here, I whimper. Something has to change. My words come out sounding like a declaration, but really, they’re a desperate plea.

I didn’t plan to spend this call doing this. And I’m sure Tay didn’t expect it either. She listens, then gently tries to talk me off this ledge of despair.

Girl, we had this same conversation so many times over the summer. I thought you were good. What happened?

I don’t know. Now that I’m here, I’m just not feeling it.

But why not?

She waits for my response. I don’t have one.

Ebbie, I’ll say again what I’ve said before. Maybe you need to hear it one more time so it can finally stick. You’re so smart and so tough. I can’t imagine you not being able to slay this year at Bryce. You always did impossible, zany stuff when we were kids. You were the brave one. Remember? Who always climbed to the top of the slide first? Who actually ate the mud pies we made in my backyard? And who was crazy enough to jump off the top of the monkey bars? That was all you. Before you went off to that school, you did anything you put your mind to. You had no problem making friends, meeting boys, and getting good grades. You graduated with the highest GPA of anybody I know. That’s the Ebony I know. Maybe you forgot to take her to college with you.

That’s facts, Tay. That Ebony was nowhere to be found.

As soon as those words leave my mouth – that Ebony was nowhere to be found – everything besides my thoughts goes on pause for several seconds, while words, images, ideas, and emotions of all kinds, shuffle back and forth in my mind like a movie, alternating between super fast-forward and extremely slow rewind. It’s so trippy in my head because all of this stuff is about me and Essence. Our good racing past so quickly I can barely recognize it. So much of the bad moving slower than the sloths in that Zootopia movie. I don’t quite understand it, but I kinda know what it means.

I hear Tay’s voice saying, You alright?

I’m not able to respond until the second or third time she asks. By then the chatter in my head and the True Hollywood Story of my life has stopped.

Ebbie, you okay?

I’m not sure. That was weird.

What was that? You kinda zonked out on me.

Some kind of vision about me and Sisi. And all the stuff that has happened between us going back to when we were little. Oh my, God, I shout. I just had an aha moment.

Oooh. Like that Oprah thing? What was it? Tay leans into the camera, anxious to hear about my revelation. Now she’s tuned into me like I’m her favorite TV show.

What I just saw somehow made me realize those things you said I was good at, all go back to Sisi. I did that crazy stuff because she did. I was brave because she told me to be. And I was cool, because she showed me how. Sisi made me who I was, which was basically a replica of her. That wasn’t a bad thing then. But, it is now. Especially since she doesn’t want a copy, a twin, or really even a sister.

Tay looks as shocked hearing what I’m saying as I feel speaking it.

Ebbie, how can you even think she made you to be her copy? You’re a good person; she’s not.

She used to be. You know that. We both worshipped her.

Tay cuts her eyes at me and says, Worshipped, emphasizing the ‘ed.’ Past tense, she adds.

Whatever, girl. In my mind because we were identical twins we were supposed to be exactly alike. Right? But really, we weren’t ever meant to be the same. Maybe it’s not something I can explain to you, but that’s what my vision showed me. Sisi was right.

Saying those words out loud makes me realize that Essence had out-twinned me long ago and she spent all those years making up for my shortcomings so we could continue to appear as one. That had to be so tiring. No wonder Essence eventually gave up on me. Maybe that’s why she felt so much anger toward me, too.

Tay sits quietly for a few seconds absorbing what I’m saying. Then she says, It totally sucks that you might be right about all that. But now what? Tay never likes getting stuck on the problem. Her thing is moving to the solution.

Good question and I have no answer, I reply. Hopefully something will come to me just like that did.

Aww man, Tay shrieks. My flight’s boarding. We gotta finish talking later, but as soon as I get an internet connection, we can start messaging again and figure something out. You got this, girl.

I love the faith my bestie has in me. If only I had that same faith in myself.

Chapter Three

My mom walks into my room and finds me sitting on the floor in the middle of mayhem.

What in the world? she exclaims. Are you planning to do anything about this mess?

Eventually, but I can’t deal with it right now.

She joins me on the floor. What’s going on, Bunnie?

Her eyes pierce me with concern and in her voice, I hear her determination to fix whatever my problem is – no matter what it is. A momentary pause gives me the courage to share the latest twist on the struggle that is my life.

"I had