We used to be inseparable, like otters and the rocks they carry with them as lifelong partners. When our parents started to shake the room with words we would huddle together, let our bodies sink into each other until the edges between us blurred. We are triplets, and yes, we come with special powers. We could speak without saying a word. When our parents used up all the air to fire insult after insult at each other, we could talk. We could tell how each other felt by the colors that filled the room. I remember when our dog Lucy passed away, Chloe was so upset blue seeped from under her door, covering the house for days. But once college started we split, eager to part ways with our wretched household, only to be reunited 13 years later by our parents’ death. And because our family doesn’t take pictures, a portrait is all I have.
(From left to right, 31 years old)
Jane is the oldest by 3.7 seconds, something she is way too proud of. She is by far the most emotional of the three of us and arguably the most beautiful (Chloe being a close second). We are all exactly the same height, 5 foot 6 inches, but Jane always took up more space. She was consistently the favorite among parents and teachers, but in that 13 year gap she changed. Her wavy blond hair still travels to the floor, but started wearing “old lady” perfume… way too much of it. So many of her colors were foggy. Her once youthful, deep blue eyes faded into an icy blue after she stopped trying to become an artist and settled behind a counter staring aimlessly at a register. You can see the conflict in her eyes; she’s a hollow shell of what she used to be, but I know she’s still in there. But for now she stands strong like a tree in the wind, unmoved by anything, towering over me just like she always has.
Chloe stands off to the right, arms folded and face red with rage. She’s mad at Mom and Dad for dying. Chloe was a star cheerleader in high school and had everything figured out. She even married her high school sweetheart, David, at 23. She wasn’t in love with him, he was just someone that she could push around and take advantage of… I liked him. But Chloe is crazy. Her once long brown hair is clearly cut unprofessionally, maybe by her, maybe out of rage. It stands straight up as if to show gravity that it’s in charge. And today her eyes were on fire. They were locked on the coffins that held our parents. She was always looking for approval, but our parents never acknowledged us. Even when Chloe was crowned Prom Queen they refused to bat an eye. Our parents killed something in her.
I am an unsymmetrical blend of my sisters. My one brown and one blue eye draw a lot of stares and my hair tangles together in a dance of blonde and brown. It’d be unfair of me to tell my own story because I barely have one to tell. I’m not even sure what I’ve been doing for the last 13 years. Our parents laid before us and I don’t feel the urge to cry; I am indifferent. Instead, I’m happy to be back with my sisters. Even though they may not be who they once were, one a fragment of what she used to be and the other an enraged egomaniac, I was happy. A part of me will always wish things could return to “normal”. Just us three, slouched together in a tangled ball of appendages. I love us, even if our parents never did.
by Caelan Sujet