Phantom Limb

by Lucinda Berry

I couldn’t bear the thought of waking up in the hospital another time, finding out I was still alive and she was still dead.

The only person I saw regularly was Thomas, and he was used to not seeing me for days.

The only thing keeping me moving was knowing if I made it through the seventy-two-hour hold, I could ceremoniously die with her.

Emily and I were two parts that made a whole, and I was only half of a person without her.

It was as if our brains were sewn together and there was no place where I ended and she began.

We’d never spent a night away from each other in our twenty years.

Unlike some who learned to live with the phantom pain, I never would.

I was condemned to live with the unseen ghost of my lost part.

“The reason Dalila was so upset about the conversation yesterday is because Emily’s funeral happened a long time ago and you did get to go to it. You were there.”

“The reality is that Emily is dead. She’s been dead for two years

I preferred to say nothing instead of saying something untrue.

Anger scared me. It didn’t matter who was angry—I didn’t like it.

I’d only been here for one day, but I’d already learned I was expected to follow the leader at all times and do as I was told.

Rose had been right when she’d said these would be the longest three days of my life.

I was scared of anyone who wasn’t Emily.

I never asked what they talked about, and Emily never told me.

the past didn’t seem nearly as questionable or as frightening as what was going on right now.

She told them she didn’t know who our father was and didn’t care to find out.

The prospect of living a new way of life was more terrifying than any anticipation of my death.

We could do everything that was expected of us, but we couldn’t give her the only thing she wanted—for us to return the love that children have for their mother. We never could do it no matter how hard we tried.

neither of us felt a need to connect with a mother on an intimate level.

we’d had to squelch our desires and impulses for maternal love for so long, they no longer existed.

I didn’t know when it happened or how old we were when we gave up trying to connect with Mother.

I stopped first. It took Emily a lot longer to give up.

Hurting Emily was the same as hurting me.

I believe the reason you were able to demonstrate such a high level of resiliency is because Emily served as your protective factor.

Thomas had slowly begun to take Emily’s place as my confidante.

I’d lost the Emily I knew a long time ago, and I’d been mourning her disappearance for years.

I was so used to having a shadow that whoever it was seemed more like a statue than a living being.

I didn’t know if I’d ever be at a place where I could imagine living without Emily, but I was moving in the direction of acknowledging that Emily had been dead for two years.

Thinking about calling Dalila made me feel heavy and depressed, but the thought of calling Bob made me feel good.

It was one thing to pretend and make believe Emily was alive, but it was insane to butcher and brutalize myself without having any recollection of doing it.

If I’d done something so awful to myself and had no recollection of it, what else had I done? Were there other things I didn’t remember?

you’ve been both Emily and Elizabeth for two years.”

Rose wasn’t able to see her reality, but I’d seen mine. And I was terrified.

I’d been lying to him since I’d known him, but unlike most liars, I didn’t know I wasn’t telling the truth.

If I could cut my flesh without having any recollection of it, then I could make believe my sister was still alive even though she was dead.

I couldn’t remember the last time my relationship with Emily had been reciprocal.

I’d lost her when we were teenagers. She’d given in to her pain, and I’d never been able to get her back.

I’d been surviving on pieces of her and brief moments of who she used ...

The weight of carrying Emily around with me was heavy and overshadowed everything I did.

I was never comforting her. I was only comforting myself. I was both the wounded and the savior.

Why wouldn’t Emily tell me she was going to see Lisa? Why would she keep that a secret? Anger shot through me.

Emily had told the one secret we shared while I’d always kept all of hers.

Cutting herself was

“Even though it might not feel like it, the two of you are not the same person.

You’d acted as Emily for so long that the line between where you ended and she began was completely blurred.

I didn’t want to be Emily anymore. I’d never wanted to be me and had spent my life hating myself.

I would’ve given anything to be more like Elizabeth. I’d spent just as much time wishing I could be her as I had hating myself.

she was the only person who understood me, but we couldn’t have been more different.