Jennifer Two

TWENTY-ONE.

June 26th, 2016

"You son of a bitch!" Bret Wade hollers down the phone the second I answer it. I'm packing my bags, getting ready to catch the next train out of town. I was intrigued by the unknown number that popped up on my screen, only to answer it and hear an irate voice screaming at me. The first thing that pops into my head is how the hell he got my number. I know that someone must have let the cat out of the bag, and I know that that someone must be Jamie. I can already see it; I wasn't back home when I was supposed to be, so my sister told my parents who then managed to track down Bret's number and talk to him, only for him to then call me on my number that they must have given him.

"I'm sorry...?" I play dumb, my heart beating like a samba drum. All I can think to myself is how stupid I am, and I already want to cry. You stupid girl. You can't repeat history, see? Now the present day is flying over your head and it's getting too much to handle. You're ruining the now. Just let go, Anne. Let GO.

I'm not at all surprised if he thinks I'm batshit crazy. I'm nothing but a liar these days. I lie for jokes, and the lies become something true in my mind. I can't extract my true feelings from my elaborate stories. I'm like the girl who cried 'believe me.' I'm not even sure if I believe myself.

"Jennifer-Anne Middleton? That's your name. You're Jennifer-Rose's younger sister. Am I correct?"

I stay quiet, having nothing else to say. "You are, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your sister called me. Jamie. She's concerned about your whereabouts. She wishes for you to come home immediately. Whatever sick game you've been playing is over. I don't know why, exactly, but it's disgusting."

"You don't understand anything," I respond, "You don't get it. you don't get why."

"Why, then? What could possibly compel you to do what you've been doing this past week?"

"I said you won't get it!" I cry. "You jackass. You won't get it. you don't know what I'm going through, or why I'm doing this. And I'm so sorry for interrupting the order of your life. I'm sorry for intervening."

"Do you know how stupid you've made me look?"

"I said I'm sorry..." and all I can do is cry. I'm sobbing, a sound I've never quite heard from my own mouth for as long as I can remember. He doesn't say anything for a long time, and silence is met on the other side as I wail and catch my breath, as I wipe my tears and sniffle repeatedly.

"Look, Ro- Anne... I don't know what's going on here, but it needs to end. I don't know what you're going through, and I can now say that you know what I've been going through. Whether you had to or not doesn't matter at this point. But for the sake of our own wellbeing, you need to go home to your family and let me live."

I can't even respond. All I can do is cry like a maniac, and my breakdown is just met with an awkward silence. "Anne. Please, stop crying." He eventually says. "What's the matter?" and for the first time, I hear his voice soften. He knows that we all have demons and skeletons and that you can't be angry with a person for too long. At least not the younger sibling of your dead best friend who looks more like a dead ringer for her. He's got to feel some sort of suspicion towards everything. Sometimes I wonder if my extravagant ploys at playing out another life was really just my cry for help, or to bring light to my absurd circumstances. The best way to convince someone you're a clone is to be that person, right?

"How are you getting home?" he asks.

"Train." I mumble.

"...Are you sure you'll be safe getting back?" His tone has changed completely; he seems concerned for me. I'm not sure if he's still angry, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was.