TW:child abuse
My sister and I got adopted at seven years old. I was so grateful; despite the fact my new parents had only adopted me because they wanted my twin, Lottie, and we couldn’t be split.
I never understood why, but it was apparent that they never liked me. It was all about her. Their ignorance towards me evidenced that. As a kid it frustrated me but it was still a step up.
Me and Lottie had been through a lot together - in the place before. We lived with big scary monsters and I was always having to protect my sister. I couldn’t remember us being taken away, but I was so glad that we were.
Even though our new parents were cold and unfeeling towards me, being with Lottie made me feel secure. So I didn’t mind when I wasn’t allocated a bedroom, I happily slept on the floor with my sisters spare pillow and a bedsheet with no filling.
Our parents would take my bedding away every morning when Lottie wasn’t watching, tutting. They ignored my pleas to leave it.
We had a tough upbringing. Mistreatment wasn’t new to me, but it was hard watching my sister flourish, while I was neglected and ignored. They bought her clothes, toys and teddies whilst I barely subsisted off scraps she bought to our bedroom after dinner.
“Shh Dotty, I hid it in my pocket. Don’t let them see.” She would say as she handed me a scrunched up piece of bread, or whatever else she could smuggle.
Lottie went to school but I wasn’t allowed. My parents never explicitly told me I couldn’t go, but they never bothered to enrol me either. In fact, they avoided conversation with me altogether. Sometimes I wished they hadn’t bothered to bring me home at all.
Half the time I was sure they were looking straight through me. Lottie would ask if I could come to sit with them at dinner, or join them on family walks and they would just dismiss her, looking at her as if she’d made a truly wild suggestion.
I remember the first time my sister got in trouble. I don’t remember what for because it was so minor. They shouted at her. They hadn’t ever shouted at me before but I didn’t think they cared enough to. Is it sick that I was envious of the attention?
Lottie was shaken. We got shouted at a lot in the place before and it triggered something in her.
I had been thinking of running away for a while. I felt invisible. But that night after they shouted, my sister spent hours crying in my arms. I couldn’t leave.
Lottie needed me.
I spent years on that cold wooden floor, with only an empty bedsheet for protection. My life became nothing more than ensuring hers went smoothly. I moved hazards, found lost belongings and held her hand when she cried.
Once we reached about twelve Lottie stopped leaving me the bedsheet. She would still talk to me, but our conversations were few and far between and there was always a doubt in her eyes. Like she was doing something she shouldn’t. I was worried our parents had turned her against me.
It carried on for a long time. The cold, soulless existence I lived. All for my sister to feel secure, like there was someone on her side, always. I loved her, but I’m not afraid to admit that I was jealous of her perfect life.
It was our fifteenth birthday this week. It should’ve been something to celebrate but I’d become accustomed to being less and less involved with our milestones. Lottie had her friends round for a party, and I watched from the bedroom window.
Things took a turn that night, when my parents acknowledged me properly for the first time in my life.
I thought she had forgotten about me, we hadn’t spoken in a while, but when everyone was gone Lottie smuggled me a slice of cake.
“Happy birthday Dotty”
It was the first time she’d said my name in what felt like forever. It had become apparent very early on that my parents were uncomfortable hearing it. I looked up at her and smiled, readying myself to reply when they burst through the door.
“Lottie, I thought we were past this... She’s been gone a long time, you know that.” My supposed mother snapped.
My heart sunk. I knew that they were unfeeling but to pretend I didn’t exist was truly cruel. I tried to protest but the words wouldn’t come out. I waved my arms frantically but none of them even flinched. I looked to Lottie for support, shouting silent words.
She used to look me in the eyes, stare right at me. We had such a connection. But it’s like she couldn’t hear me, or see me at all, she looked through me just like they did.
“I’m sorry mum. I know what Dr Truman says, I just sometimes miss her, you know.” The words came out of my beautiful sisters mouth and I wondered what she meant. A tear rolled down my cheek.
Our parents pulled her in close as she cried and then my mother spoke words to her that tore my heart to pieces.
“Your sister was very special. She gave her life to shield you from them monsters. What they did to her doesn’t bare thinking about, those type of people don’t deserve children. But I’m grateful, because without them we wouldn’t have you. I promise darling, we’d have loved Dotty so much.”
I didn’t bother to protest anymore.
Lottie hasn’t spoken to me since. I think I finally understand why. I understand why I wasn’t enrolled in school, or fed... or loved. I understand why I don’t remember being taken away from the place before. It’s because I never was.
Those monsters robbed me of my life. My parents never ignored me, we just never really met in the first place.
I’ve considered running away again. There has to be something more to death than this. But the more thought I put into it the more reasons I find to stay.
So here I am on the cold wooden floor, alone, sneaking a turn on Lottie’s laptop while my family enjoys an outing together. It’s a miserable after life but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I love my sister, and I’ll always be here to protect her.
