No Kidney For My Perfect Sister

It was the fifth year of my estrangement when I found myself serving a table of familiar faces.

I carried the pre-ordered cake onto the dining table, and the moment I stepped inside, the family of three froze.

Without a flicker of emotion, I finished the chorus of Happy Birthday, then turned to close the door discreetly.

But the daughter chased me out, a slice of cake on a plate held out toward me.

"Mom wanted me to give this to you," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "Its your birthday today too."

"They talk about you all the time, Lena," she continued, her eyes growing red. "Theyre getting old. Please, come home, okay?"

I shook my head, my expression polite and distant.

The next second, the plate exploded against my chest. Dr. Evelyn Ruth, the famed child psychologist, had stormed out of the room, her voice a raw, furious shout.

"What did we ever do to you to make you hate us this much, Lena?! What did we take from you?"

I stood there, silently watching the woman who was my identical twin sister. I thought about it for a moment.

It was probably because she was named Stella.

And I was named Lena.

The commotion in the hallway was loud.

When my biological parents rushed out, their gaze went straight to Stella.

"Stella, are you all right? Oh, sweetheart, dont get upset."

Evelyn, the ever-emotional mother, pulled a trembling Stella into a hug, her eyes welling up.

I quietly pulled a handful of paper towels from my apron to wipe the cream off my uniform. Habitually, I said nothing.

My father, Victor Ruth, who had swallowed his immediate outrage, suddenly exploded at the sight of my silent clean-up.

"Lena! Thats your mother! Your sister! What is that look on your face? You disappear for five years without a word, and the first time we see you, this is your power play?"

Hearing that name, the one I detested from the core of my being, after five years, still made my stomach turn.

My breath hitched, but when I looked up, I was wearing the uniform, professional smile.

"Excuse me, sir, but the name tag reads Lena Maris."

"If you don't require anything else, I'll step out to change my clothes now, so as not to ruin your dining experience."

Five years surviving on my own in the city had taught me that righteousness was a luxury. I finished my speech smoothly and turned to leave.

The three of them stood frozen behind me. I imagined they couldn't reconcile the hysterical, destructive girl who walked away eight years ago with the polite, guarded woman standing before them now.

...

It was well after midnight when I finished my shift.

As I walked toward the bus stop, a car slowly pulled up beside me.

The window slid down, revealing Evelyns cautious, anxious face.

"Its too late. Let me drive you."

As if afraid I would refuse, she added quickly, "It's just me, sweetie. Can your mother just give you a ride home?"

The streetlights flickered in her eyes, making her eagerness look like something I should feel sorry for. It was a familiar look.

Dr. Evelyn Ruth, the celebrated child psychologist, was still so confident. She believed that her personal charm alone could persuade me to return.

Id seen this trick since I was a child.

But I wasn't a child anymore.

"Im fine, thank you. My friend will be here any minute."

She seemed surprised to be dismissed, but she stubbornly refused to drive away. I knew she thought I was making an excuse.

I didn't bother to explain.

There was no need.

When Evelyn first became pregnant, she was certain she was having a girl.

She settled on the name "Stella" early onmeaning "star," brilliant and bright. She was at the height of her career, having seen too many miserable families, and she swore she would give her child a brilliant life.

Unfortunately, she had twins.

And she hemorrhaged during the delivery, nearly dying.

Lying in the hospital bed, weak and depleted, her eyes held a shocking resentment.

"One can be Stella, and the other can be Lena," she'd spat out. "Shes just an extra. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have almost died!"

Born second, I carried the burden of nearly killing my mother before Id even opened my eyes.

In the years that followed, I was always the one who was forgotten.

For the busy Dr. Ruth, just managing one child was overwhelming; the other was to be handled with perfunctory neglect. As a result, Stella would often take my food, knowing that since we looked alike, no one would notice or care.

One night, I was so hungry I crept into the kitchen.

I knew there was half a cup of yogurt left in the fridge. Stella hadn't been able to finish her portion after stealing and eating mine that day, and she'd pleaded with Evelyn to save it for the morning.

"Mom, this is Stellas portion. You cant give it to Lena."

Shed stressed the point repeatedly. I remember staring up at Evelyn, wanting to expose the lie.

But before I could speak, I was impatiently cut off: "Lena, we agreed you and your sister each get one. You cannot steal your sister's!"

But I was truly starving. Too hungry to sleep.

Ill just taste it, I thought. No one will know.

I held the small plastic cup, dipped a finger into the creamy white yogurt, and licked it.

It tasted wonderful.

The next second, Stella, who had followed me, found me.

The ensuing scream brought the house to life.

I stared at the yogurt spilled across the kitchen tiles, paralyzed with shock and confusion.

"Lena! Youre stealing even when you're this young? Didnt I tell you that was Stellas? Are you truly that greedy?"

Evelyn held a sobbing, shaking Stella, her eyes filled with only pity for my twin.

Stella spoke up again, drawing out the accusations:

"M-Mommy, she takes my snacks all the time..."

No, she takes mine!

"And at lunchtime, she threw away the steak you made because she didn't like it, and wouldn't let me have it..."

No, you hated it, and you wouldn't let me eat it either!

Evelyn stroked Stellas hair, her gaze full of protective tenderness.

I panicked.

"It's not true, Mom! Its not what she said!"

I tried to defend myself, but I was clumsy with words, only managing frantic repetitions of "It wasnt me," and "I didn't steal."

"Lena, you truly live up to your name. Rotten from the inside out. How did I raise such a toxic, flawed person?"

Beep. The sound pulled me from the memory.

Harper, my friend, had arrived on her little moped.

I was about to climb onto the back seat when Evelyn surprisingly stepped out of her car.

"Lena, you... youd rather ride on that raggedy little thing than in your mothers car? Its cold tonight. Why do you have to be so difficult?"

She reached out to grab me.

My response was to jerk my arm away without hesitation.

"Dr. Ruth," I still used her professional title, keeping a wall between us. "Isnt everything I am today your creation?"

Years of neglect and false accusations made my personality highly sensitive and quick to anger.

I was the exact opposite of Stella, who was an A-student, cheerful, and the perfect example of Dr. Ruth's parenting expertise.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ruth, we called you in today regarding Lenas bullying. She put an allergen in another students cup, and the student is currently hospitalized."

"The school has zero tolerance for bullying. We have decided to expel Lena Maris."

I was completely bewildered when I first heard the news.

While I wasn't a stellar student and rarely spoke to anyone, I lived by a code: don't mess with me, and I won't mess with you.

I didnt even know the so-called victim.

It was Stella. It had to be. She'd used our identical faces to do something malicious and frame me for it. Half of my bad reputation was thanks to her.

For the usual slights and gossip, I never bothered to explain. But I didn't want to be expelled.

"Stella brought a bag of peanuts from home this morning. I didn't do it."

I looked steadily at the two people I didn't want to acknowledge as my parents.

As the words left my mouth, I realized my palms were slick with nervous sweat. I deliberately lifted my chin, meeting their gaze head-on.

"It wasn't me, it was Stella. She was jealous the victim beat her for the top spot last term."

Their faces darkened. My father scoffed first. "Look at the daughter youve raised! You, a renowned child psychologist, cant even manage your own kids!"

He turned and walked out, abandoning the mess, as he always did.

Evelyn hated when anyone questioned her career, her proudest achievement. She whirled and slapped me across the face, calling me her "failure."

"Stella is always top of her class, why would she be jealous? Lena, you are beyond saving. You would actually try to drag your sister down with you!"

I was forcibly withdrawn from school. Confined to the house, I eventually developed severe Bipolar Disorder.

Most days, I just lay in bed, staring blankly, letting time slip by. Forgetting to eat for an entire day was common.

My family treated me like a ghost, only checking in to ensure I was still breathing. To them, my lack of energy for trouble was a blessing.

I turned on the TV, and it was Dr. Ruths interview.

The reporter asked her, "How do you view the growing mental health crisis among modern adolescents?"

On screen, Evelyn looked far warmer and kinder than she ever did with me.

She smiled and said, "A childs mental health issues often stem from parental neglect. We must start with the parents, building a bridge of communication..."

"With a mother like you, your children must be exceptional." The reporter gushed.

Evelyn nodded in response. "Yes, I have one exceptional daughter. Her name is"

"Stella."

I smashed the TV.

To them, it was just another one of my episodes. Evelyn didn't even spare me a glance.

I stood barefoot in the wreckage. My feet were cut and bloody.

From that day on, I began my campaign of reckless self-sabotage.

Evelyn didnt want to acknowledge me? I would claw and bite to prove my existence.

I stayed out all night.

I started drinking, smoking, and hanging out in the grimiest parts of the city.

I was inflicting a thousand cuts on them, even if it meant eight hundred on myself. I felt no joy, only a desperate need to inflict pain on both of us.

I found myself back in a dimly lit, sticky-floored Arcade and Pizza Joint. I sat down at a computer, just staring for hours.

I didn't want to play; I just needed two hours to soak up enough cigarette and stale beer smell to thoroughly annoy Evelyn when I got home.

But that day, I met Silas Graham.

The only piece of light in my dark, messy existence.

When I saw him sheepishly walk into the grubby place, I was in disbelief. This was the kind of place Evelyn called a "den of delinquency." I never expected to see Silas, the national Math Olympiad prodigy, here.

Logically, a failure like me should never have crossed paths with Silas.

But he was the one person Stella both envied and admired. She was the perennial class president and top student, but only because Silas focused on competitions and skipped school exams. She hated the insinuation that once Silas returned, she'd lose her rank.

Hearing her complaints, Id pieced together an image of a flawless genius.

The boy standing in front of meclumsy, embarrassed, and fumbling to even find the computers power buttonwas nothing like that image.

I leaned over and pressed the start button for him.

"Thanks," he whispered, smiling shyly.

After that, I'd find Silas in the same spot, almost every Friday afternoon.

We gradually became acquaintances.

He told me his parents were extremely strict, and he only had two short hours on Friday afternoons for himself.

"I hate the competitions. It's boring and exhausting. But my parents sacrificed so much to push me forward, so I have to keep going. I just sneak away to decompress a bit."

"Lena Maris, promise you won't tell anyone."

I didnt give him my real, despised name. "Lena" was bad enough; I didnt want him to ever speak the word "rotten."

I had often wondered why Evelyn hadn't chosen a name like "Maris" (meaning "of the sea," vast, open) instead of "Lena." Then I could have been Lena Maris, and Stella could have been the "rotten" one.

Silas and I would play games online together. He'd tell me the school gossip, even though I'd been gone for months.

Sometimes he'd bring me snacksa pastry, a candy bar, a yogurt.

The first time I drank the yogurt he gave me, I burst into tears.

"What's wrong? Is it bad? I won't bring that flavor again."

He frantically wiped my tears, looking mortified.

I let myself sink into the feeling of being worried over, and I smiled through my wet, sparkling eyes.

"Its my first time having this," I confessed. "It's so good, Im crying because its the best thing Ive ever tasted!"

We became inseparable friends, our distance shrinking.

My Bipolar symptoms lessened. Things were finally getting better.

One day, in the middle of a noisy online game, a guy next to us got too excited and slammed his plastic cup down, startling me.

When I gathered my wits, I realized Silas had pulled me into his arms, shielding me.

In the tight embrace, I looked up, and he was looking down.

"Are you okay? Did it scare you?"

I shook my head. Our breaths mingled, and my face instantly turned scarlet.

Silas froze, then pulled away, looking equally embarrassed.

We went back to the game, but neither of us could focus.

Then, his little finger hooked mine. I turned to look at his sweet, anxious face.

"Maris," he said. "Let's be together."

I was so overwhelmed by surprise and joy that my cheeks burned, and I couldn't find the words.

Silas instantly looked regretful.

"Wait, that was terrible. I should have given you a proper confession."

I remember telling him it was fine, just to give me a proper one later.

But years later, in the deep of the night, I would always wake up crying, whispering:

"Don't be with me."

I will only hurt you.

My fiercely proud mother, Evelyn, eventually gave up after my repeated rejections.

I followed Harper back to her small shared apartment.

It was tiny but incredibly cozy. After a quick shower, I lay in bed, going through the motions of opening and closing my eyes, until finally, I reached for the pill bottle in the drawer.

I hadn't had insomnia for a long time. The demanding reality of my new life, coupled with the deliberate repression of my past, meant I hadn't needed medication in months.

But they had shattered the fragile peace Id constructed.

That night, I had the nightmare again.

After Silas confessed, he promised to plan a formal proposal. I was ecstatic, but I knew I had to keep it a secret from Evelyn.

Despite my best efforts, Stella somehow figured it out.

When I finally realized my phone was missing, it had been gone for nine hours.

It reappeared in Stellas hand.

She waved it triumphantly. "I rejected him for you," she announced.

"Lena, how do you even know Silas Graham? You must have used my name to get close to him."

"Honestly, I don't know what he was thinking, asking you out. Its hilarious. What do you have that I dont?"

I saw undisguised jealousy and malice in her eyes.

"Silas is my academic rival. I dont want a boyfriend like that. Since you used my looks to get to him, I, as the big sister, had to clean up your mess."

"Dont worry, I was very clear. He definitely won't confuse us anymore."

I watched Stella ramble on, her identical face a grotesque mirror. But for the first time, I felt a desperate urge to tear that face apart.

I frantically texted Silas. No reply. I called. It went straight to voicemail.

Ignoring Stellas attempts to stop me, I threw on a jacket and ran out.

The night was cold, and the wind stung my face. I had only one thought: I needed to find Silas and explain.

But as I rushed to our agreed-upon meeting spot, I heard the shrieking wail of police sirens.

A few people were walking away from the direction of the sound, shaking their heads in sorrow. "Such a good kid..."

A scaffolding at a construction site had collapsed. Silas, unable to react quickly enough, was crushed.

The police said surveillance showed Silas could have dodged the debris, but he seemed distracted, completely oblivious to the danger.

I screamed and pushed through the crowd, seeing the long yellow tape and Silas lying on the ground, his eyes closed.

A pool of dark blood spread out from beneath him.

Id never seen so much blood. It felt like it was going to drown me.

I dragged my numb, heavy feet home.

Stella saw my face and let out a light, mocking laugh.

"Serves him right," she sneered, her eyes haughty. "Dont reach for things that are above you."

I don't know what snapped, but I grabbed a glass and smashed it, picking up a shard and slashing her face.

"Why, Stella? Why did you have to destroy everything I had!"

Stella screamed and stumbled back, clutching her bleeding cheek.

My own palm was sliced open, but I didn't feel the pain.

Evelyn rushed in and started hitting and kicking me, shielding Stella. I didn't react.

Not until Silas's parents showed up at the door.

"You ruined my son! My brilliant son! It must have been you who corrupted him!"

Silass mother grabbed my collar, desperately shaking me, demanding I give her son back.

My father, Victor, sighed heavily, still standing aside.

But Evelyn, my mother, joined the chorus of condemnation.

A single tear rolled down my otherwise blank face.

My stubborn spine slowly gave way.

I knelt before Silass parents and bowed my head to the floor, once, then again.

If Silas hadn't met me, if I hadn't been so foolish as to press the power button for him, he would still be the brilliant young man he was.

My very existence was a mistake. I shouldn't have dragged him into my mud.

When I woke up, the daylight was blinding.

Sweat drenched my skin. I fumbled for my phone and found a slew of blocked numbers.

I mechanically added the new unfamiliar numbers to the block list, got ready, and headed to work.

I hadn't expected to run into Evelyn again. She was waiting for me.

"Maris. Lena Maris. Is that your new name? Its lovely."

I stepped away from her, keeping my distance. Business-like, I replied, "Maam, please dont interfere with my work."

Evelyn dropped her hand in a gesture of loss. But then the owner of the restaurant walked over. "Lena, we have enough staff today. Take a break. Talk to your mother. Whats an old grudge between mother and daughter?"

She was right. At first, it was just disappointmentaccepting the fact that she didn't love me, which wasn't quite hate.

But later, she made it impossible for me not to hate her.

I was standing on the roof of the building, ready to end my ridiculous life, when Evelyn appeared.

She told the rescue personnel to stand back, not to provoke me, adding that she was a child psychologist and could talk me down.

Then, she said the words I had always longed for.

She apologized for neglecting me. She said shed had postpartum depression; it wasnt that she didn't love me.

But I no longer cared about any of that.

Until she mentioned Silas. My heart lurched.

"The boy... hes been brought back from the brink. He survived..."

I scrambled off the ledge in a burst of hope, grabbing Evelyn, demanding she take me to him.

Instead, she slapped me.

"Are you insane? I raised you for all these years, and this is what you turn into? You are a failure, Lena. You are rotten to the core!"

I never saw Silas. Instead, I was committed directly to a psychiatric hospital.

It was there I learned the full truth. Silas had indeed survived, but he was a living ghosta vegetable who might never wake up.

His parents were preparing a lawsuit to seek justice for their son.

"Evelyn," I heard my father argue, "Ill give them a huge settlement. Stella was the one who was wrong. Why send Lena to the hospital?"

Evelyns voice was hard, resolute: "So what if Stella did it? Lena was the one who led him astray. Ive already ruined one daughter; I wont ruin the other!"

"Only by keeping Lena locked away can I ensure she doesn't ruin Stellas future."

No one knows what my three years in that institution were like. It was a place where even a healthy person would be tortured into illness.

When I was finally released, the name "Lena" vanished into the world.

Meeting them again five years later, I realized the shadows never truly faded.

"Dr. Ruth, we have nothing to talk about."

I looked at the silver streaks in her hair, cold and detached.

Evelyn anxiously tried to stop me from leaving.

"Maris. That boySilas. He woke up."