(S)Kin

by Ibi Zoboi

“I named you Genevieve because you are my first daughter, and you will represent us in the world. Woman of our race, woman of our kind. And this, first daughter, now belongs to you,”

I thought it was marisol?

“You did good, Marisol,” I hear Lourdes say.

She knew.

I’m not Marisol! I want to shout but everything is frozen solid as if this skin has made me into a chiseled sculpture, a replica of my half sister.

I have always wanted to show you the wonder of what you are. I have always wanted to show you your power and to be your one and only mother—”

She cray.

Marisol didn’t just take my skin, she straight-up hijacked my soul—

And tonight, the moon is on my side letting this mother and her two daughters shift and fly on the same night—

There is no better mirror than seeing your own skin worn over someone else’s soul.

Jab jab are not only carnival characters who come out at dawn. Here, they feed on the souls of those who have harmed them. Or harmed the ones they love—

“I guess your boyfriend has found you. Cats have a way of recognizing souls,” Jaden says to Genevieve in my skin and he takes the next customer.

I’ve heard of these stories. How jab jab can snatch a soul and fling it into someone else’s body— human or otherwise. A temporary vengeance that only lasts a full moon cycle, thank goodness. The victim learns their lesson to never mess around with a jab jab;

I pick up this bakery cat. And this shit is wild! I look into his eyes. I see. I see him. And I wonder if Micah knows that whatever he did, he fucked up. He fucked up big time— And he sees me too. He sees me past Marisol’s skin.

And Mummy. Where is Mummy? How is this my life? I’m now a dark-skinned girl with a Caribbean accent and I’m a fur mom to a cat who is housing my ex-boyfriend’s soul.

“The myth is more beautiful than reality. I still want to dream. How come I am seen as more monstrous than you? Let me be seen as human for awhile.”

I pull my sister close and this is the first time I see myself crying, shedding real tears for a mother whose secrets were as vast as humanity itself.