Difference

Chapter 3
I Envy Him

Who am I?

Who am I?

I had a brother. He was my twin brother. He was nice. He was a good person. He was a very happy person.

I wish I could be happy like him.

I really admired my brother.

We grew up.

We were getting older.

I don't like him. I don't admire him.

He is not nice anymore. He is not a good person anymore. He is not happy anymore.

I wish I could understand why he's changed.

I pity my brother.

He's an eyesore.

I wish he didn't exist. I hate him. I hope he disappears forever. I wish I was the only one.

I want him gone.

I want him gone now.

I am better than him. I know I am. They tell me that too. I know I am.

I don't like him.

He tries too hard. He tries too hard to get them to notice. Why try? They won't care. How foolish.

It was the night of the piano recital. I had practiced really hard.

He played it well. He played it beautifully.

We played the same song. I want to play like him. That's all I could think about.

Stupid.

I was stupid.

I did it better. I outshined him once again. Good. That's the way it should be. I will always be better than him.

I am better than him.

I told him he did well. He looked upset by that comment. It made me feel happy. Should that be wrong? Shouldn't I feel bad? No. I'm not a good person either.

My birthday. It's my birthday. It's just my birthday. It belongs to only me.

I was turning fourteen. I felt older already.

He was turning fourteen too. It's not his birthday.

They forgot about him. They remembered me. They forgot about him.

That's the way it should be. Even my lovely parents forgot. How funny.

How foolish he was. He told me he wanted to become equal on this special day.

Of course that would never happen. We aren't equal.

I am the queen, you are the servant. Serve me, as I treat you badly. I am higher than you. He should know his place.

"Happy Birthday" I whisper to him. He's standing alone, staring. He looks upset.

We are different.

I am white, and he is black.

I am the cat, and he is the dog.

I am still a child, and he has grown up.

We are very different.

But we are the same.

If I look in the mirror, I see my face. I don't look like him anymore.

If I look in the mirror, I see my hair. If I tie it up, I see my hair. They say that our hair is similar…they said it looks bad on him.

If I look in the mirror, I see those eyes. I want to shatter that mirror with a hammer. They are not my eyes. They are his eyes.

We are different.

They said I had a cute and unique voice. They said it was lovely. They said the same to him. It was obvious whose was more favored. We harmonize well. We do not.

There was a contest. It was really fun! Everyone did well! So very well.

I won. It was decided from the start that I would win. It made him mad.

Good.

I don't like him.

I don't like him at all.

He makes me sick.

I want to kill him.

The feeling is strong. I know it's not a good thing. I know it too well.

We mirror each other perfectly. I am reality, he is the reflection. To think about how easy it would be if I could shatter that reflection to little pieces.

I am the voice, he is the echo.

I am the person, he is the shadow.

An echo can continue on forever, but a voice has to stop sooner or later.

An echo does not need a voice later to carry on. It just needs one…and it will stretch forever.

A shadow is much larger than the person. It can stretch to unbelievable heights.

That is how we are different.

Is there a reason for both of us to exist?

If I were to die, what would happen? They would hate him.

If he were to die, then all would be right.

A friend asked me about my brother.

Why would you care about him when no one else does? Are you foolish too?

"Who?" I ask. That's right. I don't know who he is anymore.

"Len." He answers. It's been a while since I've heard that name..

Len..

"He doesn't matter." I answer. It's true. He doesn't.

"Why?" He asks. Why?

..Why?

"He doesn't matter anymore. He's not my brother." I reply. It's true. He's not my brother.

He couldn't possibly be siblings with such a cold person like me.

They mistaken him for me. It's obvious who is who.

They still mistaken him for me.

"I'm sorry. I seemed to have gotten mixed up with your brother. I hope you don't mind."

I don't mind. That boy has my face. I want my face back.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

It's happened too many times.

"Len!" That name is never called out.

Why am I hearing it?

"I'm sorry." He tells me. He's mistaken me for that boy.

"It's okay." I answer.

"Len is only me, after all, isn't he? He's just my shadow. A shadow and a person…are one, are they not?" He looks at me funny.

"No…you two are different after all!" He answers.

We are different.

"I hate this." He asks me what I hate.

"I hate him." He looks at me surprised.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I envy him.