When She Was Me

by Marlee Bush

“You look like a creeper right now,” you say, placing your camera on the nightstand.

Are they talking about L or C

They say you can tell a lot about a person by what they read. I’ve never known anyone with a more imbalanced taste in books.

My worry is exactly why I hate her.

“What if we just did it?” you say, your back to me. “Did what?” “Killed them.”

Excuse me? I really wish we knew which one is talking

You laugh again. “I’ve never hurt anyone.” But the words aren’t true. Not even a little bit. Like you’re thinking it too, you add, “Not like that. Not on purpose.”

A person ignorant, oblivious, concerned with only their self-gratification.

Who is the real monster out of us two?

Cass

A pair of red sneakers is the only visible part of whoever is in there. Karen. I saw her wearing the shoes before.

I don’t see Karen, but I hear the toilet flush. Her stall door slamming shut. The sink turning on.

What if it's not Karen in the stall?

At the end of the room, between the light switch and the door, is the outline of a person.

A pair of dirty red sneakers lie on their sides.

But there was something about the person in the bathhouse that was feminine. Their skinny limbs. The way, even though I couldn’t see their eyes, they seemed to watch me in the dark. Something else too. A sense of familiarity between us. Like the shadow I saw on the Blacktop. What if that wasn’t my imagination?

Karen? Sarah? Lenora? Tilly? Or C and L's mother?

Maybe you see yourself in her. Have you found yourself seeking out similarities, Lenora? Have you found ways to connect yourself to her life?”

Daphne to L

His name was Toby. His young wife reminded me of my sister.

“Do you think your need to identify with victims is because you feel like you are one?” “I am a victim. That’s true.”

D and L

What if she wanted to catch me sleepwalking?

“Someone was in the cabin.”

L

Falling into obsession for me is a lot like falling in love.

L

“You have to finally tell the truth. I know it was you. I know you keep coming into my cabin.”

I wonder who is going into karen's cabin. Sarah? Cassie? Lenora? Rob? Tilly?

“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” I whisper.

You wouldn’t hurt anyone.” But there’s the night fifteen years ago.

“Because your secrets are mine and mine are yours,” Cassie says, pulling away from me. Hurt cracks her face like the San Andreas fault, and it’s my secrets that burden her. She’ll take them to the grave if I let her, even if it means becoming a person she was never meant to be.

Pastor Smith

Joan Wellesley’s.

Joan

What happened with Joan

She’s not supposed to be here. She’s supposed to be with a relative in Florida. Not here. She can’t be here.

is Joan the same person as Sarah?

She knows.

What does Joan know?

I don’t give Joan another glance, but I hear her whispered words before the door closes behind us: “You know what you did.”

“She said she saw you. That it was your fault.” I don’t add the other part. I saw too. I saw much more than I should have. More than I ever wanted. I don’t know if following you that night was the best or worst choice I ever made. I got to save you, even if it broke me to do it.

Joan’s hurt because she lost her sister. She’s going to say those things, but it’s OK. We know the truth.”

Kate,”

Kate is Joan's sister

She doesn’t let me finish. The first slap catches me off guard. It shouldn’t, but it does. It’s the second slap that I brace myself for. The third that I revel in. The fourth that cuts my cheek.

L mentioned that their mother hit C. So is C the narrator?

For the first time in my life, I feel like I can honestly kill someone.

Her Harvard T-shirt is wrinkly, and there’s a stain near the collar. She’s worn it one too many times in a row.

The damn Harvard shirt gonna be relevent at some point

Yes, I wanted her to believe me. To not think the worst of me even as I saw the worst in myself.

L about C

She ran and I stayed, and we’ve paid for it ever since.

Lenora

but it feels like someone is right on my heels, breathing down my neck as I follow Sarah out.

I'm suspicious of Sarah tbh

It’s weird thinking about how little I’ve known Sarah. She’s been here for such a short time that she’s still dealing with moving boxes.

Why is she burning boxes

“You and your sister,” she says, “you’re both haunted, aren’t you? Why else would you be here?”

Sarah to Cass

I have a maternal grandmother in Florida, but I haven’t seen or heard from her in years.”

What if Sarah is actually Joan? But wait, she would have burn scars. Unless she got plastic surgery

“You’re lucky you have her, you know.” She glances up the sloping hill toward our dark cabin. “You’re lucky you have someone to suffer with.”

Sarah to C

Cabin Two,

Cabin 2 is C and L's cabin. I'm confused. Doesn't she mean Cabin 3?

I let out a shaky breath and turn to Cabin One, stopping suddenly.

Ok now I am thoroughly confused. Cabin 1 is Sarah's. Why would Lenora be there? Is this all intentional by the author?

It’s Lenora standing in the dark.

“I want him dead,” you whisper.

“I want them both to die.”

“How long?” I choke out. I don’t want to know. But I have to. “Two years.” I groan and cover my eyes. He’s been doing this to you for years? He’s hurt you for years? While I’ve what? While I’ve slept? The thought is impossible. It’s impossible to comprehend.

So was their dad SAing one of them?

“God asks his servants to kill people all the time,” you say. “You’ll help me, won’t you?” The way you say it. You’re God and I’m Abraham—encouraged to make an unconscionable sacrifice. It feels especially important now, my answer to you.

It’s not until after we’re both in bed that I remember the photo you hid from me.

I’ll help you get therapy. We’ll get through this together.