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We Thought It Would Be Funny

At the age of three I was a fairly restless child. I would consistently wear myself out and fall asleep on the family room floor. Rowen would carry me up the stairs and put me in bed only for me to awaken two or three hours later and come creeping down the stairs to listen to Rowen and Genevieve’s conversations. One night I did just that, which was tricky since I shared a room with Ophelia so I had to be sneaky.

I pulled back the Little Mermaid sheets peppered with oysters; Flounder, Ariel and air bubbles, like I was diffusing a bomb. Slow and steady, I put one leg over Ophelia onto the other side of the queen-sized mattress we shared. We had a bunk bed but I was too scared to sleep up there. Ophelia lay still and almost lifeless as I scaled my way over her as though she were Mount Everest; if she woke up it was over, mission failure. I’m straddling Ophelia as I hit my head on the top bunk and let out a muted yelp; easy does it just one more step. At this point I began thinking why is this bed pushed up against the wall? It would be so much easier if I could have just slipped out on my side of the bed! I snap back to reality as my left leg meets my right and I hang onto the outside of the top bunk for support. I am safe and the mission is a success.

I crept down the first few stairs and peeked over the banister. The kitchen, dining room, and living room lights were all off but Genevieve and Rowen sat by the light of one lamp in the family room. They sat on an old couch that we kept well into my teens that was a mixture of tan, grey, yellow, and light orange fibers woven together. This was Rowen’s cat’s, Moses’, favorite couch because he simply blended into the cushions and could be left alone as he took his daily catnaps. In fact, Moses stood at the bottom of the staircase, a fluff ball of white, gold and tan hues with striking pale ice blue eyes. Like a sentinel twitching his tail, as if to warn me that I should dare tread no further. The only allegory that fits is that Moses was the Southern Oracle from The Neverending Story. However, rather than being represented by a lady sphinx he was an unusually defensive and sentient pet.

Rowen and Genevieve were arguing very quietly about something. It was hard to make out the words but in the short time that I sat on the other side of the banister on the staircase I gathered a substantial sum of information. Rowen and Genevieve had not purchased this house more than 18 months ago at the suggestion of the head of my mother’s Union and now her job was closing up shop and moving to Arizona. Rowen had recently just quit his job because while his boss had promised him benefits after I entered the family he had no intentions to deliver on said promise. Our options were slim to none. Genevieve could attempt to find a job in the surrounding area or move with the company and keep her health insurance, dental and vision benefits, which her children desperately needed. While Genevieve did attempt to find a job in Washington she did not succeed and we would later be forced to move with her job to Arizona.

However, in that moment on the stairs listening to Genevieve and Rowen argue about moving, I was elated. I had no concept of what moving would really be like. All I knew is that this would be a new adventure, a change of pace and scenery. At three years old I had no ties to this place that we currently called home. I had only one friend other than Ophelia because I didn’t live in a neighborhood with kids my age. I went to daycare but we very rarely set play dates with any of those kids and I didn’t go to school yet. Not to mention that the neighborhood kids were all terrible little shits that were mean to me only on the basis that I was younger and therefore less cool than they were. This seemed like my golden ticket out of this place where I clearly did not fit in.

Just then Moses shifted at the bottom of the stairs. There was brief moment where I thought he would be a pal and not sound the alarm but he began meowing to let my parents know that I had broken out. I quickly turned around, tumbled my away up the last few stairs, ran into my room and pretended to be asleep. I had made it back to my bed safely without getting into trouble. When I jumped back into bed Ophelia groggily awoke and asked,

“What were you doing?”

My heart was racing and my breathing erratic,

“Nothing. Just had to use the bathroom.”

For the next few weeks I remember dropping hints that we would be moving but so far no one was taking my bait. To this day Genevieve denies that I could have possibly heard herself and Rowen talking about moving and I am not sure why. The excuses are always the same, “You would have been too young to remember that.” I have always found this response demeaning. I always thought, you’re right because the average person doesn’t have well formed memories until a specific age I must be just like them. I don’t mean to sound cocky but even as a child I was not average because mediocrity is almost always a lack of motivation. Ophelia is far from average either so this response was insulting to me even as a child. As you can tell our parents were certainly not telling us that we were special in our own ways despite the fact that our generation grew up being fed that line by teachers and other authority figures alike. But I apologize for I do digress.

Eventually it was decided that we would be moving so Rowen and Genevieve flew to Arizona to go look for houses. They left us with a strange woman in the dead of winter. This woman was large not only in stature but in girth, she had one son but I don’t remember his father being around. Their backyard was mostly barren consisting of some dead grass, mud puddles, one loan tree stump in the middle of the yard that their husky was tied to, and a three foot high chain linked fence.

One day Ophelia and this boy (we’ll call him Geoffrey and his mother, Talia), who was her age, locked me out of the house and left me in the backyard with the dog. Ophelia and Geoffrey told me to play with this dog while they ran off to play without me. The husky wasn’t very old and was poorly trained so he had a bad habit of jumping on people. Now I am not a very tall woman today and I was an even shorter child. I stood, maybe two and a half feet tall in front of this dog that on his hind legs towered over me. I approached the dog that was friendly enough; tail wagging, head down with his butt up in a playful position but when I approached him in his overzealous nature he pummeled me to the ground. He was so excited to have a friend that he couldn’t contain himself. I was essentially being mauled and wound up with cuts and bruises all over.

The only reason that Talia realized I was being squished to death by her dog was my screaming and crying, which alerted the neighbors who were assessing the situation from their own backyard. Talia ran out of the house at a breakneck pace. I could see her waddling her way towards me out of the corner of my eye. When Talia arrived she separated the dog and I. As soon as I was free I ran into the house and hid under Talia’s large hide-a-bed couch, which was unfurled for Ophelia and I to share while our parental units were away. Talia pounded up and down the house looking for me while screaming at the top of her lungs. I thought that Talia was mad at me so I just cowered further under the couch, a trick I learned early on in life. Talia’s words while piercing were unintelligible because at this point I was starting to get concerned that our parents had left us here forever. The sheer thought of being stuck here made me cry myself to sleep under the couch.

I am not sure how long it had been since I had fallen asleep under the couch but I heard the front door slam and the giggles of Ophelia and Geoffrey.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Talia shouted down at them.

“We were at the park.” Geoffrey stated with guff.

“Did you lock Rosyln outside with the dog?” Taila accused.

Silence ensued as Ophelia and Geoffrey looked at one another. Who would be the one to tell the lie or admit the truth?

“Well! Answer me! Which one of you little shits locked Rosyln out there with the dog?!” I realized now that Talia was not mad at me just scared that she couldn’t find me.

“We just thought it would be funny.” Geoffrey replied.

“Funny?” Talia mocked “That dog is two times her size! He jumped on her and Rosyln was absolutely terrified. Not only that! I can’t find her!!! So you two will search this house until we find her.”

At this point I am simply reveling the fact that Ophelia and Geoffrey are in trouble because what they did was certainly not funny. Had I not been a more resilient child I would have been terrified of dogs for the rest of my life. Since I felt that Ophelia and Geoffrey deserved their punishment I stayed hidden for roughly 30 to 45 minutes longer.

Ophelia and Geoffrey searched the house for me calmly and then I heard their tones become more frantic and crazed until they began searching outside. Eventually Ophelia had the bright idea to look under the couch, which should have been the first place that she looked. I couldn’t help it if the girl wasn’t observant enough to realize that I always chose to hide under beds. Looking back on it maybe this is why I was more afraid of what was in my closet then what was under my bed as a child. I had been to the land of “under the bed” and there was never anything scary to be found.

After having been discovered Ophelia drug me out from underneath the couch to present me to Talia who was livid. I am assuming that making this grandiose show of my presentation to Talia was to shift the focus of blame to me. However, this little stunt did not work and both Geoffrey and Ophelia were sent to bed without dinner. Instead I was granted the privilege of eating dinner at the table with Talia.

As we sat at the table eating in silence I looked up to see a snowman figurine. The snowman was a strange material, almost clear with a popcorn type of material. The snowman changed colors, from red to blue to purple and lastly green, a trait known to me now as fiber optics. My eyes were affixed to this snowman, I felt drawn to him as though we were one in the same. To me, this snowman and I were kindred spirits cold, alone, on the shelf with no other snowman friends but colorful, vibrant, resilient and happy. Talia noticed my interest in her fiber optic snowman and told me she would leave him lit up everyday for me for the rest of our stay. Talia was true to her word and over dinner we talked about how sad it made me that Ophelia didn’t want to play with me. After dinner I crawled onto the hide-a-bed with Ophelia and when I tried to say good night she rolled over in a huff. She was clearly still enraged with me.

As you can imagine Ophelia was not pleased with me despite the fact that she and Geoffrey brought this punishment onto their selves. Yet the punishment continued the next day as Ophelia and Geoffrey were headed out the door.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Talia prodded.

“To the park.” Geoffrey replied.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Take Rosyln with you.” Talia stated.

“But mom…”Geoffrey began but was quickly cut off.

“No buts.” Talia said turning around to wink at me.

Without any need for coercing I took off down the hallway to grab my large puffy winter coat and rain boots. We headed out the door but didn’t wind up at the park at all. Instead we wound up in a wetland. There was a large malformed tree surrounded by a large muddy puddle.

“This isn’t the park.” I stated poignantly as we arrived.

“Very observant. You’re right it’s not.” said Geoffrey in the snottiest tone he could muster.

“We told your mom we were going to the park.” I replied.

“Well whose going to tell her any different?” Geoffrey asked implying that I would be forced to keep my mouth shut about the whole day.

Here I thought that hanging out with Ophelia would be fun when really it just turned out be an exercise in humility. This was the first time in my life I was confronted with the fact that when someone is forced to hang out with you it is not as gratifying as when someone chooses your company. Geoffrey and Ophelia proceeded to make their way to the tree in the middle of the giant mud puddle, which was more like a small muddy lake to me. This was just another way to alienate me this time both emotionally and physically as it created a large distance between us.

“Hey, I can’t make it over there.” I cried out.

“Good.” Geoffrey said.

Why was Ophelia letting him be so mean to me?! All I wanted was to be a part of their group and my only crime was being younger and slightly less equipped to explore than they were.

“Well that’s not fair!” I said as loudly and indignantly as I could.

“Well then why don’t you do something about it?” Geoffrey egged me on.

Fine I thought, you want me to do something about it then I’ll do something about it all right! I’m coming to you! I proceeded to make my way along the path of treacherous wet boughs of the fallen surrounding trees that Ophelia and Geoffrey had already braved. I was halfway there when I realized that the leap to one of the other boughs was too far for me to make.

“I don’t think you’re going to make it.” Ophelia finally piped up, a quiver in her voice. Geoffrey chimes in again,

“Yeah turn back you big baby!”

I see now that at the age of three and few quarters, I was definitely still a baby but how dare this boy tell me what he thinks I can do. Even as a young girl I was not about to let some dumb boy put limitations on my skills as a person. I am a human being. I throw like a human being. I run like a human being, not like a girl.

So I do the stupidest thing I could have possibly done in that moment in retrospect. I took a literal leap of faith. In that moment between the two boughs and the muddy drink underneath my feet I felt invincible. Well I felt invincible until I hit the water that is, which as I feared was indeed a small lake and not a puddle. I could not touch the ground without my head going under the muddy water. Ophelia and Geoffrey sat there for a minute in sheer shock as I began bobbing up and down trying desperately to find the air. It was winter, cold in the air and even colder under in the lake. None of us knew how to swim so Ophelia and Geoffrey worked together to break a branch off of the tree and pull me to safety.

This plan was easier thought up then executed, as I wasn’t very close to any of the boughs. Due to my short stature and sheer lack of understand in physics I by all accounts had just signed my death warrant. Ophelia and Geoffrey climbed to the bough closest to me then had to lie down on the bough itself to reach me. Geoffrey was the only one tall enough so he lay on his belly with one arm grabbing the bough he lay on, the other holding the torn branch extended towards me, and the rest of his body dangling off the other side of the bough. Once I grabbed ahold of the branch both children pulled me closer to safety. I felt a sense of relief wash over me as I finally caught my breath. It took both of them to pull me out of the muddy water. I was freezing and it was a long walk home for a three and so many quarter year old. We all sat there for a minute knowing that this meant no dinner tonight for all of us.

Needless to say when Rowen arrived in his pickup truck to take us home the next day he received an earful about our horrible behavior. However, I think that Talia mistook our terrible behavior for Ophelia having no backbone. If Ophelia would have just stood up for me instead of following the leader her life might have been a lot easier.

I do not remember packing but I do remember getting on a plane and moving with Genevieve and Ophelia to Arizona. I remember Genevieve, Ophelia, Rowen, and I waiting at the airport for our flight to arrive. I had never seen a plane and Rowen was standing with me at the large windows that looked out onto the runway at these giant metal birds while Genevieve took Ophelia to the bathroom. Rowen was explaining to a much younger Rosyln how something so heavy and cumbersome looking could fly tens of thousands of feet in the air. This was a much different time for airports. A time when families could actually meet each other at the gates of their flight or even kiss and hug each other goodbye before boarding their flight.

Soon enough it was time to board and I couldn’t understand why Rowen wasn’t coming with us. I realize now that he stayed behind to get everything packed up and that he probably drove a U-haul down to meet us in Arizona. It was summertime and my Genevieve started work the day after we would arrive in a new state. I remember Ophelia being slightly nervous and had readied herself with a barf bag but I was pretty excited to watch the plane take off and land. Genevieve was by the window, Ophelia was in the middle, and I was craning my neck as far as it would stretch to look out the window. I don’t know what changed in me but as an adult I despise having to fly places. Perhaps it was that I didn’t fly on a plane again until I was 15 years old and the flight was not a pleasant experience in the slightest.

We landed and Genevieve’s boss’ wife, Clara, met us at the airport. We had lived down the road from them in Washington and they were kind enough to let us stay with them while my parents found a place to live in Arizona. It was the summer in Peoria, Arizona at the time so it was hot and bright. I had never lived in a place where the curtains had to be drawn to keep the heat and the sun from waking you up. Clara and her husband Dorian had several kids that will be referred to as: Annabelle (who was Ophelia’s best friend well into adulthood and the only girl of the brood), Duncan and Darren who were twin boys, and Khalil the oldest boy.

Genevieve and I stayed in Khalil’s room while Ophelia and Annabelle roomed together because they were an unstoppable force of evil when they got together. The second time I heard the phrase “we thought it would be funny” was when it came out of Annabelle’s mouth. The only difference was that this time I recognized it as the filthiest, meanest lie you could ever have imagined.

It must have been a weekend because Clara and Genevieve were both present at the house. I was the youngest so the twins didn’t want to play with me, Ophelia and Annabelle certainly wanted nothing to do with me. Khalil just felt bad for me so he watched over me as if I was his own younger sister. It was because of this that I had a tiny crush on Khalil for a long time. Khalil was always concerned for my wellbeing and while it was clear that we were not on the same level of coolness he cared enough to make sure that I wasn’t constantly being left behind. I had traded one place where I didn’t fit in for another.

On the day in question Ophelia and Annabelle were off to have some amazing adventure outside after playing dress up in Annabelle’s room. I asked if I could come and Ophelia annoyingly replied with a sigh,

“Yes.”

Annabelle, however, was not having any of it.

“No, Rosyln, you can’t come because we are part of a private club. You aren’t old enough to be in the club.” Ha ha ha so clever you aren’t the first six or seven year old to think that line up Annabelle.

Annabelle then slams her bedroom door in my face and I wait patiently outside trying to hear what Ophelia and Annabelle are discussing. The door flies open Annabelle and Ophelia push past me, knock me to the ground, run out the front door and down the street. I regain my footing and quickly rush out the door, which they have left asunder, after them. I am running as fast as I can when I turn the left corner of the cul de sac and collide with Annabelle who is calmly standing there. There is a brick wall to her left lined by thick trees and then another blind corner. Ophelia is nowhere in sight and since I am not even out of breath I ask Annabelle where Ophelia is.

“She’s dead.” Annabelle replies calmly.

“No she isn’t!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Where is Ophelia?!”

“I told you. She is dead. She got hit by a car.” Annabelle proceeds to fake sob and buries her head in her hands. I protest for a little while longer until Annabelle says in a way that only a Disney villain would,

“She’s dead and now she can never play with you ever again.”

I run home with tears cascading down my face. I know that bitch is lying and I am crying out of hurt more so than anything else. How could Ophelia hate me so much? How could Ophelia rather want me to believe that she is dead instead of just suck it up and let me in on their stupid little games? I throw the front door open and sob my way into the bedroom where I slam Khalil’s door and throw myself into the pillow where I continue to cry.

Khalil knocks on the door to ask me what is wrong like the good older brother that he is and when I relay what happened he goes directly to Genevieve to keep her abreast of the situation. Genevieve comes in and asks me what’s wrong but I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to see that I am crying because my dumb older sister hurt my feelings. So she asks me,

“Did Annabelle tell you that your sister was dead?” I nod an affirmative and silent yes. “Did your sister go along with this?” Another quick nod through tear-filled eyes and her and Clara lose their shit.

Both mother hens head out and collect their children from the outside world. I hear Genevieve say,

“God help that girl when I find her! Where do you think they are?” she asks Clara. Clara responds with confidence,

“Don’t worry. I’ll have them back here in a minute.” With that said I can now hear Clara’s loud, booming voice from inside the house despite the fact that she is standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac and the front door is closed.

“Annabelle! Ophelia! Get your asses back to the house!!!”

I pull the curtain off to the side and can see Ophelia and Annabelle running down the sidewalk and back to the house. I hear Clara’s rage encrusted voice,

“Did you tell Rosyln that Ophelia was dead?”

“Yeah but we thought it would be funny.” Annabelle replied knowing full well that what she thought would be funny was all at my expense. Genevieve chimes in,

“Did you go along with it, Ophelia? Your sister said she couldn’t see you! Did you hide in the bushes or around the corner so it looked like you weren’t around? Why would you do that? Your sister has been crying for hours!” our mother shouts at Ophelia.

“Well I did but like Annabelle said we thought it would be funny.” Ophelia says attempting to defend their cruel intentions.

Clara grabs Annabelle by the arm and our mom does the same to Ophelia. They begin to lead the girls into the house. I feel a slight pang of joy in my heart because I realize these little bitches are going to get what they deserve. So I quickly rip myself away from the window and turn on the waterworks as hard as I can. I burry my face into my pillow just before Clara and Genevieve burst through Khalil’s door.

“You thought this would be funny?” Clara asks the girls with disgust in her voice.

The girls reply almost in tandem with “We’re sorry but we thought it would be funny.” Ophelia and Annabelle were in deep shit and they knew it. They were forced to sit in separate rooms for the rest of the day and from then on they were forced to at least hang out with me every once in a while, which felt mildly gratifying. However, the truth is I was beginning to see that if this was the way Ophelia and her “friends” treated people I didn’t want to have any part of it. Not only that, I had begun to realize that people only say “we thought it would be funny” when someone else is the butt of their joke.

These two examples were certainly not the only times that Ophelia had allowed these things to happen to me but they have been the most solidified in my mind. For instance, I left out the time that Ophelia and her neighborhood friends left me in the woods by myself. There was also the time that Ophelia and a boy she liked named Jareth locked me inside his tree house while his large black lab tried to attack me. These are just stories for another time.

When I brought these stories up to Ophelia in casual conversation she relayed to me the way that she saw our childhood. For her it was normal to want to runaway from your little sister, lock her up in things, and treat her with utter disdain. Ophelia’s perspective of our childhood is also much different because she saw it through her own lenses. The lenses of a jilted older sister who just couldn’t compare to her younger sister, which is funny because it is the antithesis of how my story reads. So as you go through these stories I would like you to take a moment and see things from Ophelia or your own siblings perspectives (if you have siblings). A lot of that anger, frustration, and alienation that you feel or felt at the time may not be something that you're going through or went through alone.