Sisterhood

For those that have trouble identifying these, this is one of my “Hamlet’s play” series of fictional posts.

I saw Evelyn’s sister’s face today and they do look remarkably alike.

I remember, let’s see, it was 1980 or so. I was eight. There was a car, a big one like the ones common in the 1970s, brown or beige, a station wagon, if I am correct.

The driver of the car followed me to the end of the driveway of my neighbours, the Mackenzies. I turned into their driveway.

One of the people in the car told me that she would place a bet, could I run faster than the car? I told them I wasn’t interested and then, because these strangers were creepy, I decided to walk more quickly toward the Mackenzies’ house. I knew I could get home by cutting through their backyard, through the trees to my house.

I am not entirely sure what happened next- I turned my back on the car, I heard engines revving, someone yelled “stop”, I ran toward a tree.

I do not know what happened next. I honestly can’t remember.

Thing is, though. Thing is: one of the people in that car knew me, thought she knew me really, really well, thought she knew me from infancy, perhaps. She was 10 years older than me, so an adult, and she was in that car, and thought she knew what I’d do, thought she could control me, thought she’d see me die that day.

And the other thing is, she is not the only one who saw what happened that day and all the days subsequent, all the times I’ve been attacked; there is someone else that knows me, doesn’t try to control me, thought they saw me die at least once, maybe twice (yes, I remember 2012, or was it early 2013?). Someone else to bear witness. Someone else to help me investigate, because even though I have no proof and a poor memory and struggle daily with wondering what thoughts I have are real and what thoughts delusion, this person doesn’t have these problems, and this person knows me.

This person saw what happened that day, with the car, to the small child I was. I don’t know if both of you have children of your own- Evelyn does, maybe you do, too. My friend definitely does.

Imagine what you would do to someone that tried to run over an eight year old child on purpose.

Now imagine that child is mine- because she is, she’s a part of me, that frightened eight year old, she is mine.

Now imagine what I would do to you. With evidence- maybe not of that long-ago summer day in Ontario, but it’s not like that has been the only such exercise among such loving and busy sisters.

I know how you know me. I’ve seen your faces and I know both of your names. You never did tell me your names, before, but that is not important now. I saw your faces, before. You never thought I would be able to say that, right? You had a foolproof plan. You both had it all figured out, long, long ago, and it worked well for so very long.

Only she screwed up, you see. Evelyn asked me to impersonate myself. She told me I was not ugly enough but I would do. A pivotal moment. It’s a long story, what happened after, and I’m saving that one for a film.

I was not the only one who saw you, and not the only one of your acquaintance that knows you for what you are, now.

When the time is right, all will be revealed.

Tick.

Tock.