Have you ever cut ties with your own twin?

The Long Shadow of Comparison

My twin sister was better than me at everything, and she made sure we all knew it. It all started with a scoop of ice cream when we were six years old. I had chosen the rainbow sherbet, while she chose mint chocolate chip.

Mine tasted like vomit that had been dipped in a toilet filled with diarrhea, and I threw it out straight away. Meanwhile, hers tasted amazing.

“Good job,” our parents yelled. “We always knew you were the better twin.”

They laughed like it was a joke, but I knew it wasn’t. Fast forward to ninth grade when we had our first set of finals. Vanessa had gone on and on about how studying was a waste of time and she’ll only be young once.

Well, I was studying in my room at 2:00 a.m. when she burst through the door looking for a charger. As soon as she saw me in front of my open textbook, she froze and stood like a deer caught in headlights.

You’re studying? What the f?

I just rolled my eyes and shut the door. Over the next few days, Vanessa was practically glued to the books. At first, I was happy for her until the results came out.

I didn’t even have to ask what she got because she came running up to me and waved the piece of paper in my face.

Haha, you fat I got an A plus. Let me see what you got.

I showed her my A and she bent over from how hard she was laughing.

I effing knew I was smarter than you.

But the worst part came later when we were all at the dinner table. My sister whipped out a laminated copy of her exam paper. My parents didn’t even wait to ask me what I got before singing her praises. Meanwhile, our dad was beaming with pride.

“I got an A,” I whispered when the kitchen got a little quieter.

“You need to start being more like Vanessa,” my mom instantly responded.

From there, I started to isolate myself from the family. I’d spend all my time at home with our black cat midnight and called any urge to talk to them.

So, by the time college applications came around, I was practically buzzing with excitement to finally move out. Vanessa was beside me when she got the email from her dream college. She was bouncing up and down on the chair faster than a trained window girl. There it was in plain red aerial font. Rejected.

I could see the light in her eyes out. After just 10 seconds of crying, she turned to me to ask a question.

Can you tell mom and dad that you accidentally deleted my acceptance email and that’s the reason I didn’t go?

I sighed. I don’t know.

Thanks. You’re the best.

She interrupted. For the next few weeks, Vanessa was less mean to me than usual to thank me for the favor. We were sitting at the dinner table a few weeks later when I asked her to pass the carrots.

Why would I pass you anything, you conniving She screamed.

I slowly rubbed my temples, bracing myself for what was to come. Mom Daisy, my name, deleted my college acceptance email, and I missed the deadline to accept.

My mom’s fork clattered on her ceramic plate. My dad spit out his Dani water.

We always knew you were jealous of Vanessa, but we never thought you would take it this far, my dad said with full confidence.

I didn’t talk to them much after that because we couldn’t even get through a full sentence without them bringing up the college email. When I finished high school, moving out was a no-brainer. I never even bothered coming home for the holidays. Talking to my parents was too frustrating, so I didn’t do that either.

Instead, I’d just order them gifts on Amazon for their birthday and Christmas. Since Vanessa never went to college, I’d get her something, too.

Fast forward to four years later when I finished university. I invited them all to my graduation, and it was the first time I had seen them in years. I met them for photos after receiving my diploma.

That could have been Vanessa, was the first thing my mom said to me. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Yeah, the diploma should be mine,” Vanessa added.

They then proceeded to take my graduation gown and cap and put it on Vanessa to take pictures of her instead. They were looking back at the photos I took when Vanessa noticed my finger covering the lens.

“You always sabotage my success,” she said.

“Oh, sort of like when you got rejected from your dream college and let me take the fall?”

My parents jaw dropped. Vanessa’s face went white.

“What are you talking about?” She laughed, but it sounded forced.

I looked straight at her. Remember senior year? You asked me to pretend like I had deleted your acceptance email because you didn’t want mom and dad to see you got rejected.

Mom was staring at Vanessa like she’d never seen her before.

Is this true?

She asked, voice shaking. Vanessa stammered.

Um, well, not really, but kind of, I guess you could say.

She was then cut off by my dad walking over and giving me a hug before whispering, “I’m sorry.” I gently pushed him off me, grabbed my gown, and drove back to my dorm. Good riddance.

The next day, I went to check my bank account to see if I could pay to get my graduation gown ironed. And that’s when I saw it. My twin spent three months pretending to be me, maxed out credit cards in my name, left taunting notes after breaking in, then showed up with a lawyer demanding I owe her.

My account had been drained on useless $213 at the Container Store, $370 at Chuck-E-Cheese. So, I pulled an Uno reverse in the most devastating way possible.