“Oh, oh; Say, that I’m never really wanted but you never know it from the look on my face. And I spend my time at the bottom of the barrel, oh; it’s never easy if you never shoot straight. I’m a junkyard, cowboy, old news, lost cause. I tried my best but it just wasn’t the same.”
These are the lyrics of my favorite song. Catchy? Yes. Sounds pretty cool? Yes. Cryptic? Of course. No one will ever know how deep this song goes and how much it touches me. No one will ever know how many times I told myself that I’ll no longer be just paint on the wall.
Hi. My name is Rue. I grew up in a family of five; a mom, a dad, and two sisters – me being the middle child of course.
I always got along with my older sister. I won’t say her real name, so I’ll give her a pseudonym. Let’s call her Ivy – because she likes that name. Okay – let’s get back to the topic. I like my sister. She always listens to me, she never takes sides, and she gives awesome advice. I’ve always counted on her because she – unlike my other family members – always made some time for me. Whatever problem I had, she always told me that I got her back. Now, thing is, at school, I am living under her shadow. Not only was she a top student (gold medalist, first honors) but extremely talented at almost EV-ERY-THING. She could sing, she could dance, she could play the guitar, she could draw, she could write – you name it. It wasn’t long when I was labeled ‘Ivy’s sister’. They often sought for talent in me (mostly singing) because I was Ivy’s little sister. My chemistry teacher even wanted me to sing in class! Sadly, I’m tone-deaf, so apologies to my classmates whom I have destroyed their ears. Of course, who wouldn’t get annoyed if you were being compared to some whose talents exceed yours and that they are directly related to you? Up until now, I still look at her shining in her spotlight up in the pedestal, waving at her audience.
Before my little sister was born, my parents gave Ivy and I equal attention. We had the same number of gifts for Christmas, same amount of allowance – everything was definitely equal, until my parents decided to get another kid. Let’s name her Louise or ‘Lou’. So, Lou was obviously prettier than me, fairer, whiter skin; big, innocent eyes; and long silky hair. I got jealous, of course – given that, not only was the equilibrium disturbed at home, but in the extended family as well. Oh, yes, my aunts and uncles, god-fathers, god-mothers, grandma’s and grandpa’s – EVERYONE – favored her. Not only was she absolutely beautiful, but nice as well. How everybody adored the little girl who bat her eyes at anyone who sees her. And I wasn’t surprised when Lou had developed a powerful voice. Jealousy changes everything. I a