Casper | Teen Ink


July 18, 2009
By angel11 PLATINUM, Co Spgs, Colorado
angel11 PLATINUM, Co Spgs, Colorado
22 articles 0 photos 2 comments

“Sarah can I borrow some toothpaste?” I asked, toothbrush in hand.
“Sure, it’s on the top shelf in the cabinet.” She answered swiftly, I was always forgetting things.
Sarah is my twin sister and my best friend. We are both 5’10 and slim figures look normal on us. Her hazel eyes outshine my storm blue-grey eyes, and her brunet hair drags attention away from my dirty blonde hair. I preferred it this way. Her tan skin was what amazed most people about her, and compared to my pale skin her skin looked like warm golden crust on bakery bread. Screwing the top back on the toothpaste, the green translucent body casted little caspers on my knuckles, giving me hulk looking hands.
“Do you think we saved enough money for the car?” Sarah interrupted the silence, with her soft voice, as she swept her hair into a perfect ponytail framing her face.
“Yeah we’ll be able to make the payments.” We didn’t buy a Mustang or anything but the silver Volvo would get the job done.
“I can’t wait for our car to arrive. I’m just worried about the money, you’re sure that we have enough?” Her nose scrunched up when she voiced her worries. Her gaze turned to her lips as she applied lip shine to her full lips. The lights above our head carried the rosebud color of the gloss and reflected it on the glass countertop that surrounded our to twin sinks. Our bathroom adjoined our two bedrooms, neither of which was ever clean, makeup clutter everywhere and casted their own Popsicle colors on the glass.
“Mom will be mad if we’re late for school again, come-on!” Sarah threw down her hairbrush in frenzy as she stampeded to her room on the left and me to mine on the right, grabbing my book-bag and house keys stumbled drunkenly down the stairs to the Martha Stewart kitchen. Around the corner my Mother was cooking Sarah’s’ breakfast on the island kitchen stove. Mother was asking the usual to Sarah and continuing the normal ‘Darla doesn’t exist’ charade.
I never cared; I knew that Sarah was the beautiful one, always having a boyfriend. Currently it was this guy named John Fervor, he was the quarterback on the varsity football team. Sarah was the one with the brains always positive A’s, she was the one that would make something of herself. As for me, I was the athlete, the screw up, me and my A’s without the positive sign. Soccer was a waist of time, swimming was a joke, football was form “men”. I wasn’t even aloud to join the Powder Puff team.
Even though I had scholarship offers for swimming, soccer, and basketball, Sarah was the one that was supported and praised for brining her cheerleading team all the way to state. She was the child that my Mother bought everything for, while I worked two shifts at Zumies. In my family that store was “where Satins’ demons shopped”, wait no that was Hot Topic.
Though, past all that Sarah and I stay close, she treats me higher than herself. This was mostly because as a junior she was into some bad things, and I was there to bail her out. When one of us was in trouble, it eventually ended up that we both were. We always helped each other, never keeping score always equal, in our eyes anyway.
“Darla,” my Mother spouted, “eat something wont you?”She sounded as thought she was addressing a homeless man, uncomfortable. “Or um, uh don’t. I would have made you breakfast too, but…” she never made me breakfast because…”I don’t know what-“
“What I like, yeah I know.” She flushed red as soon as I spoke; she wasn’t used to me speaking I suppose.
She didn’t speak to me again, but Sarah’s’ eyes mourned over me all through breakfast as I choked down a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Her bacon smelled good, but smells could be deceitful. Our Mothers cooking sucked, thank God we could easily afford a cook. Sarah wasn’t that picky, so she ate without complaint, talking to our mother at the other side of the twelve foot table. I sat reading Sports Illustrated at the other side a comfortable distance away.
The top left hand corner of the magazine spelled the day of the week out Friday with Broadway print, I hated Fridays! I think it was the fact that it was being home for two whole days, without practice to distract me. And Father would be gone so I couldn’t even lie to Sam’s Mom about asking my Dad for permission to come over, she thinks my Father should be concerned about me and Sam spending so much time together. But my father thinks I need a boyfriend so he doesn’t care, plus he doesn’t even notice I’m gone. Maybe I could ask Mom, a shudder ran down my spine. Nope, bad idea
Sarah stood up abruptly and ran to the south glass wall of the dining room and before I could realize what was happing I was in front of our new Volvo the drizzle quickened its pace and so did Sarah’s mouth.
“Mom had it delivered earlier than we thought; she said I could drive it first.” Before I could protest she was in the car and was revving the engine.
“Really?” Yeah because I’m paying 2/3rds of the car payment.
“Oh come-on get in the car Darla!” Inside the car was beautiful, breath taking, the speakers were awesome, and the windows were dark the way I loved them. “Oh by the way, there’s a party at Johns house tonight and he told me to invite you.” Sarah was horrible at lying.
“No he didn’t, he doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him, why would he invite me to one of his parties?” She stared straight out the windshield as I let my minds secrets unfold in the car. “He’s a scumbag, not to mention-“
“Are you finished?” She snapped, flushing with anger.
“No, but I’ll shut up. What did you want to say?” She glanced at me her hazel eyes dancing.
“I want you to come D. I don’t want to go alone. So your coming, I won’t let you stay in your room all weekend!” OK those planes have to be canceled. “Mom will make you come, so there’s no use in arguing.” I was trapped, not that I would have said no anyway.
“I know,” I sighed for effect, “just thought you should know I don’t like him so you know why I crash his party.” She laughed her violin laugh.
School passed slowly, and so did the ride home. She followed every rule of the road, not passing over twenty-five; it was maddening, I loved to speed. John lived In Valley like us, just on the north side, so normally it would have taken thirty minutes to get there, except I finally got to drive and it took only ten. Cars lined both sides of the street, and music blasted off the windows of Mini-coopers and Pontiacs. Everyone was wearing dresses, even some of the guy I noticed as we entered the mansion. I thought my Levis and vans looked fine, but obviously I was under dressed, but tons of guys looked my way, which was never good, as I untangled my body from the masses of people trying to keep up with Sarah.
“John you looked smashed!” Sarah accused.
“Hey John, what’s new?” I asked ignoring the condemning punch on the shoulder from Sarah.
“Have you been drinking?” She asked, looking surprised. Sometimes Sarah acted like the blonde of the family.
“Duh!” I answered “He smells like Bud Light, and looks like one of those guys on the commercials, to show what happens when teens drink.” While Sarah gave her ‘It’s bad to drink’ lectures. A girl who was as equally drunk as John told a joke I listened in.
“Ok so what is green and flies through walls? Casper the flying pickle!” She finished her joke and collapsed with laughter on the floor. Turning back to Sarah I bent over to whisper that we should go before the Police came to crash the party.
“Ew ok lets go.” Looking back I chuckled, and decided even if I did waist a tank of gas speeding here to only stay for a few minutes it was worth seeing that.
We weren’t the only ones leaving, given the only sober ones but there were guys trying to open cars they thought were theirs and setting off their friends alarms. Sarah was once again driving, and after a lecture from me about her being slow, she decided to only go five miles over the limit. The lights we all hit green except for one. Sarah thought she could make the light before it turned red. The last thing I remember were the headlights of a red B.M.W. rushing toward me.
The car hubcaps survived, and so did we and the other cars driver, but at home it was harder to be myself. Our Mother was convinced that I was driving, because her baby couldn’t ever have gotten into a car wreck; she even convinced herself that I was the drunk driver that caused the wreck. I took the blame for Sarah’s sake, and eventually things returned to normal and my broken arm healed. After the crash my Mother continued to not speak to me, and somehow I don’t think she ever will again. Even thought Sarah came thorough this without a scratch and me with a broken arm Mother never asked if I was ok. And Sam was the one driving me to the E.R. Mother fussed over Sarah, and her over me.
I’ve always known this life, I have always been the invisible twin of us two, and never before had I ever felt any resentment, but at night I find myself crying into my pillow and try to cover the circles under my eyes in the morning. The scabs on my wrist come and go leaving scars with no notice. I always thought it was fun but lately its hurt to be Casper.

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