Chrysalis – an adaptation of ‘Chrysalis by Cheryl Rao’

So, this is an adaptation of a short story that me and my friend, Jaq, made. This was for our Creative Writing class. I thought this story was pretty good for a story that was written a night before the due date, so…here it is.

Chrysalis

Having a twin sister might look like a nice thing for some people. When we were a kid, people around us told us how cute we were; all dressed up in the exact same clothes. When we were in the elementary school, people praised us for our intelligence. When we were in middle school, people started to compliment my sister’s beauty. By the time we were in high school, people forgot that I even existed. I was a shadow of my twin sister; my beautiful, smart, funny, kind sister. I didn’t hate my sister; I loved her very much. I just didn’t like the way people started to differentiate us, as if I didn’t matter. As if there was only my sister.

‘Anne, come down here,’ called Mom. She was a beautiful and kind woman. But, she was also one of the people who put me on their peripheral vision; a shadow of my twins.

‘Yes, Mom. I’m coming,’ I answered lazily. I stood up slowly and walked out from my room with heavy steps. ‘What is it, Mom?’ I asked after I reached the living room. I saw both my parents and my twin sister sitting there on the sofa. My eyebrows rose in confusion.

‘Anne, come sit down,’ said my Dad.

I sat down.

‘Anne, we heard that you have problems in school, ‘said Mom in a soft voice.

My brows furrowed. I was confused. I didn’t remember anything that could be called problems in school. I had good grades, good behavior, and good relationship with my friends. ‘Mom, I think you’re mistaken. I don’t have problems in school.’

‘Anne, don’t try to avoid things. Don’t try to run from your mistakes,’ said my Dad. He stood up from his previous seat and sat right next to me. ‘Just tell us what makes you do it, and we’ll find the solution together.’

‘But, Dad…I didn’t do anything.’

‘Anne.’ My Mom sighed. Her face looked so tired and sad suddenly. She looked into my eyes and sighed again.

‘Mom, I didn’t do anything. Why don’t you trust me?’ I stared at my Mom incredulously. Then I turned my gaze into my twin sister. ‘Jane, tell them. Tell them that I didn’t do anything problematic at school.’

My sister only looked downcast and turned her head; avoiding my gaze. I felt betrayed. How come my own parents and twin sister wouldn’t believe what I said? I stood up abruptly. I felt so angry and disappointed and betrayed; especially by my own twin sister whom I considered as my best friend. ‘I’m going back to my room.’

‘Anne!’ shouted my Mom. ‘Come back here.’

‘No. I’m going to my room, Mom. This is pointless.’

‘Anne!’ bellowed my Dad.

My steps faltered. I stopped but did not turn my body. ‘What, Dad?’

‘Anne, let’s talk about this. We are trying to understand you,’ said my Mom.

‘I said I didn’t do it, Mom.’

‘Anne,’ suddenly I heard that identical voice coming from behind my Dad. I turned around to face my twin sister. ‘Anne, please.’

‘Please what, Jane?’

‘Just sit down, please.’ Jane walked to me and pulled my hand in order to make me sit on the sofa again. I refused.

‘Jane. You’re such a hypocrite. Don’t pretend to be nice here. We both know that it’s not me that is problematic at school.’

‘What? What are you saying? I don’t understand.’

Jane looked panicked by my statement. I started to know the source of this ludicrous accusation. It might just be this angel-like girl standing in front of me. ‘Jane…Is it…’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Anne.’ Jane avoided my eyes.

‘Anne! Stop pushing Jane. She’s only trying to help,’ said Mom.

‘Help? Help! What help? She’s the one who…’

‘ANNE!’ shouted my Dad. ‘Enough. If you don’t want to discuss this matter in a civilized manner, then you’d better leave for your room now.’

‘Don’t worry, Dad. I was going to do just that.’

I walked to my room with anger boiling inside my heart. Disappointment, betrayal, hurt, and the thick feeling of sadness were gnawing me from the inside. I’ve tried to tolerate every single accusation, differentiation, and comparison that the people around me did. I’ve tried to keep a blind eye to those mocking stares directed at me and the admiring gazes directed at my sister. I’ve tried to block people’s talks that they did behind my back about how different I was from my sister. I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve struggled to be recognized. I’ve struggled for my identity; making my own self, apart from my sister. But, it seemed like I failed.

I reached my room, and sat down on my bed. Staring at everything and nothing. I admit that I was a bit rebellious, but what was wrong with being a rebel if it was for something positive? Just because I was rebellious, didn’t mean that I was problematic. Why couldn’t people see that? Why couldn’t my parents see that? Why did they only see this ugly chrysalis that was me, instead of the beautiful butterfly of potential inside of me? If they wanted to keep the memory of this ugly and tattered chrysalis, I would rather be free from this destructive chain and became my own butterfly. Even if it meant, passing this wretched and horrible life behind.

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