The Stranger under the willow tree

The other daughter

my mom decides it's time to replace me. I agree and I have never been so hurt. she invites over Other Daughter, and they have dinner and mother cups her hands around Other Daughter's cheeks and says she's glowing and I think wow, she has never said I'm glowing or at least not that I can remember but I have learned not to crave her touch so much anymore. mother tells Other Daughter that they will go on Friday night and see the Christmas lights. I am cordially uninvited; I cordially could not care less. they can go look at the glowing and I will not be Icarus again, I will not fly too close to the sun or to the tiny twinkling led bulbs or the glowing in her eyes when I've done something right.Other Daughter looks me in my mascara-painted Aztec face mask eyes and says how could you be such a traitor and I swipe my mascara brush; say how do you betray someone who never loved you but what I really say is "I never betrayed her" because I still feel the need to defend myself in my own house that isn't and will never be a home. Other Daughter narrows her eyes in disgust and says, "you may be an adult, but you are still a child to me" and under her critical gaze I feel like she's right. there's a wax effigy of me sitting next to my mom in the living room. they are eating popcorn and talking about their problems and the movie is playing loud enough in the background that I can pretend their laughs are part of it. I can pretend my mother's sighs of adoration and gentle reassurances and nurturing undertones are all part of the Hallmark Christmas montage of shitty movies I never liked unless I was watching them with her the house is filled with joy that I'm not allowed to touch but that doesn't stop me from reaching out like a toddler in front of a burning stove. Other Daughter drinks wine with my mother and I am so far away I don't hear their voices yet so close I smell it on their breath. I'm sure they talk about me once or twice or many times, about what a traitor or what a disgrace I have become. Other Daughter makes mom proud with the two bean-sized babies in her belly and the husband who's deployed far away, mom laughs and laughs and hugs her and laughs and says, "didn't you say you were going to wait until after college?" but she's still so happy and I am choking like a canary in a coal mine.

Other Daughter is in my bed now and I am just a ghost haunting the halls and staring up at the ceiling and falling into the TV, sitting behind the screen. watching them laugh and drink wine and say goodnight. watching my mom forget to fail her the way she failed me. watching a Hallmark movie happen in the same house as my horror show. watching Other Daughter slip into my skin, zip it up at the seams, and take my place, and all I can do is watch.