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Tyler
I think I understand why Cain killed his brother, Abel, in the Bible story about the first murder. Don’t get me wrong… his reaction was extreme, but it can be infuriating to constantly be bested by your sibling. Believe me––I know from first-hand experience.
Even though it was many years ago, I vividly remember learning the story about the first brothers. Nana Janice had insisted we go to a fancy summer Bible school camp offered through her church. None of the parables we heard resonated with me quite like the one of Cain and Abel. While the other children recoiled at the idea of the first murder, I nodded my head because I saw where Cain was coming from.
Everyone wanted to place the sole blame on Cain and say what a horrible person he was, without questioning why God preferred Abel’s sacrifice to Cain’s. Had Cain toiled tirelessly to till the soil and provide his best produce as an offering to his Father? If so, it seemed like he had every right to be frustrated. Maybe not to the point of murder, but we don’t know what drove him to that extreme.
When I asked our camp counselor, Miss Tilly, if Cain might have been justified in his anger, her face turned pale white and she blustered in response to my inquiries. Even at the tender age of eight, I could tell that she didn’t appreciate my line of questioning. I suppose it didn’t dawn on her that I saw the way she beamed at Tristan and glared at me.
I might have been young, but I was already used to people preferring my brother. He was the golden child, and I was his inferior identical twin brother. It wasn’t lost on me that we were supposed to be identical. I share his genes, so I should be as smart, strong, fast, funny, cute, engaging, and charming as him. Unfortunately, I’m not.
It doesn’t take long after meeting us for others to sense my inferiority to my brother. People are naturally drawn to Tristan from the instant they meet him. They don’t have that magnetic reaction to me.
For the most part, I’m fine with the difference in how we’re treated. It’s not Tristan’s fault he is so charismatic. It’s just the way things are. Over the years, I have gotten used to it and managed to accept my role of living life in Tristan’s shadow. Deep down, I hold onto the hope that someday someone will choose me over him, but I try to keep that wish firmly tamped down in my subconscious.
Our parents work hard to keep things equal between us and to make sure I feel treasured. If anything, they have always coddled me a little more than Tristan because they see the differences in how others treat us. They aren’t to blame for their sons’ vastly different social statuses. It’s just the way things worked out. Despite how much I have tried to change it, I fear that it is the way things will always be.
My emotional reaction has matured from denial and anger into begrudging acceptance. People are simply drawn to Tristan, like he’s a mesmerizing sparkler. With me, it’s more of a slow burn––very slow.
I kept telling myself that it was better to have a few close friends than a bunch of acquaintances. High school made remembering that difficult. Tristan was the all-star quarterback with girls falling over themselves to get near him. He was constantly in the center of a circle of his teammates and adoring fans. I almost needed to make an appointment if I wanted to speak with him, which I usually didn’t bother to do. He didn’t seem to notice my distance. He had too much going on to take note of his twin brother’s absence from his social calendar.
It wasn’t that he disliked me or insulted me. He just didn’t seem to see, or care about, the lack of me. I wasn’t on his social radar, which was fine by me. It was easier to not be near him. When I was in his vicinity, I was inevitably compared to him, and I always came up short.
We had settled into and accepted our roles as the golden boy and his shadow. Things were calm and predictable. I might not have liked it, but I understood our hierarchy. It made sense… until she came.
Alexis Bell arrived in our calm, pristine lakeside town and changed everything.