When She Was Me

by Marlee Bush

“Don’t you get it?” he demands, his voice rising with every word, snapping me back to now. To this moment. “Someone murdered her. Someone murdered our baby,

Anger isn’t a good substitute for guilt because, most often, anger is its predecessor.

The broom is still in my hand, and another vision is born. One where I swing it until something cracks. Until everything stops. Until she admits what she did.

“I think we know Tilly had every reason to want to get away from you.”

“I heard the commotion from my porch. By the time I made it up the hill, I saw Karen and Robert leaving. What happened?” Sarah lingers in the doorway wearing a thick coat and dirty hiking boots like she put them to use with the search party out in the woods. “Isn’t it obvious?” Cassie’s voice is dry. “I’m trying to warm up this bag of peas with my cheek.”

No, I think without saying. No. Cassie didn’t do anything. It was my fault. All my fault.

But no one ever warned me about the dangers of my own thoughts. No one ever told me that there could come a time when trusting myself would be difficult and hating myself would be easy. What to do when the monster is you.

“What is that?” “Soundproofed room. I record in there.” “Ah,” she says. “The YouTube videos.” Cassie glances at her sharply. “You’ve seen them?” “I’m a fan of true crime. I recognized you the first time I met you.”

“Where were you that night?” I ask sharply.

“I’m asking where she was two nights ago when Tilly went into the woods.”

A show of pity. Cassie grabs my hand. Squeezes once, twice, three times.

Our beautiful daughter, Matilda Nicole Meadows, has gained her wings. We ask for privacy at this time as we focus on grieving our daughter and attempting to understand the circumstances of her untimely death. Thank you. Karen and Robert Meadows

seems suspicious

Clearly, none of these people knew Tilly. They didn’t know the books she read or her favorite breakfast or if she even believed in God. They didn’t know her voice when she was upset or the secrets she kept, and I might not know everything either, but I know enough.

no bitch you don't know shit

Tilly on the cold dirt floor gasping for air, staring up at a starless night. In the back of her head, behind the panic, behind the disbelief, is the hope. The hope that someone will hear. Someone will save her. The hope that when her eyes close, they will open again. They do. Once more. But there’s another image. Another person. Swimming in front of Tilly’s vision. “I’m sorry,” they say. “It shouldn’t have turned out like this.” The person’s face comes in and out of focus until I see with perfect clarity. See exactly what Tilly saw. I see myself.

she could be referring to her sister since they ate identical twins

She walks forward, brushing past me, her shoulder grazing mine. “Come with me.”

are Cassie and Sarah going to be friends

It brings back a strong memory. Like the blackest coffee, just a taste overwhelms my palate. That’s how memories from before that night are. Lenora and me on the first day of second grade. I don’t know why the lunch box conjures this memory. It isn’t even the happiest one. That was the year things started going downhill. Even before that night.

In my assigned seat, two tables away, I watched the boy next to her jut an elbow into her side. It sent me to my feet, but I wasn’t fast enough. As soon as the boy turned, Lenora gripped the back of his head and slammed his face against the table.

What is wrong with Lenora she is crazy

“I’m thinking of expanding, you know. Least I was before everything with Tilly.” The artificial cherry scent is strong as she takes the vape from her pocket and lifts it to her lips. The smoke tickles my face when she blows it out. For the first time since meeting Sarah, the thought hits me that I don’t really know her.

The empty look in Lenora’s eyes when the boy started screaming. “

Something like this would happen to me—”

hmmm

Lenora that night with her wet hair. Lenora promising me she was telling me the truth. Lenora lying to my face. And that damned coin.

She leans forward conspiratorially. “Wouldn’t this be where you’d go to kill someone? To hide a body?” She motions to the vast woods around us. “If they’d come here for that, then surely, they wouldn’t have any issues with other types of violence.”

Our mother. Even if she’s not here, it’s her fault anyway.

The images come violently. Lenora doing something terrible. My mother’s face. Lenora’s. My own. We’re all connected because of that night.

“Last night, Rob and Karen Meadows got into a fight. I know because I saw him storm out and leave. He took his stuff. I think—I think there’s more to Karen and Tilly’s relationship. Something that might have given her a reason to want her daughter dead. Or maybe it was an accident. Another fight that spiraled out of control.”

“No, don’t say my name like that. Like I’ve lost it. I haven’t. I’m not telling this to the police or shouting it from the rooftops. I’m just trying to learn more. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

your guilty

She yelled sometimes and could be slightly aloof, but she wasn’t a bad mom. Not until that night.

okay mom killed their father

“The last time you did this, you remember how it turned out? We had to move, Lenora. You accused our neighbor of cheating on his wife. You were obsessed with him. You thought you knew stuff, but you didn’t. You were wrong.”

pit her in a watd where she can get help

Then she ruined everything for the second time. And it’s me. It’s always me who must gather her broken pieces and put them back together. But each time I do, she looks slightly different. Like I put something in the wrong place, and it doesn’t quite fit.

that's heavy

“You start hyper focusing and fixating,” I say. “You did it to them. To Toby and his wife. You almost ruined their marriage. You almost got arrested. You do it with Mom. Now you’re doing it to Tilly.”

“I’m happy here. Therapy is helping me. This isn’t the same as last time. I know that was wrong. I know a lot of that was me. In my head or whatever. I get it. But this is different. I know what I saw. Karen hit you, Cassie. For what? For saying something rude? She’s shown her character to all of us, not just to me. This isn’t me inferring or guessing—it’s about what we saw with our own eyes.”

“We’ve been here before. I was with you when everything blew up in our last neighborhood. Everyone thought you were unhinged, Lenora, except me. Never me.

“But you’re doing it again.”

“How did you get that?” “I found it. On the Blacktop. The morning after Tilly first went missing.” “No.” Lenora shakes her head. “That’s not possible.”

“I don’t know.” Her voice is strangled. “OK, I don’t know. I was asleep. I don’t remember any of it.”

I don't believe you are a sleepwalker

“Yes. I woke up covered in dirt. I know I was out there, in those woods. But I have no memory of it. No idea what I could have—”

“Listen to me,” I tell her. Then I force myself to take a breath. “You’re too close to this. On Tilly’s social media, watching her parents—you have to stop it. You have to let the police do their job, and you have to focus on yourself. Keeping yourself healthy. You can’t spiral again. Not like this. Not now.”

I know Lenora. She wouldn’t hurt anyone. But the words are hollow even in my head, where the sound of that boy’s head slamming against the lunch table still reverberates. I guess Lenora isn’t the only one who lies.

But last summer tugs at me like a little kid on their mother’s sleeve, annoying and incessant even as I swat it away.

Just fucking tell us what happened last summer

Because after he left last summer, that’s when it all fell apart. That’s when you did what you did.

I used to be mad that I was forced to get a summer job and you weren’t. It’s not that Mom didn’t ask you to work too; it’s that you simply didn’t. I went out and applied. You chose not to.

You’re doing it again. Trying to hurt me.

don't you want your own life?? Like your need for the your twin is ridiculous

And I want to strangle her. Pick her up off the ground by the neck. Slam her into table four’s all-day breakfast special.

Jesus

I can do or say anything else, you’ve swapped yours and Monica’s and taken a huge sip. There’s a smug smile on your face when you stand, the Styrofoam cup in your hand.

Good for you...your sister is a fucking petty ass bitch and I am so over it

But I can’t stop thinking of Monica and you. I can’t stop wondering what you’re doing with her. Why you’d leave me home alone knowing Dad is back.

Don't go back home get a fucking life

“You brought her in today on purpose. You know I don’t like her.”

“I’m scared.” “Don’t be.” Your voice is soft and comforting. You cross the room to me, sit down, and stroke my hair. “I told you this is different. It’s not like last summer.

“You think it’s all going to implode again.”

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

“Kill them? What are you saying?”

Fucking psychopath