A Step into the Void
Emily, wheres your sister wandered off to? You two are always together! Aunt Margaret couldnt help but ask as her niece dashed past.
The girl stopped abruptly, turned around, and with barely concealed irritation, declared in crisp tones, Im Alice.
The look she shot Margaret was so sharp that the womans smile wavered. Alice went on, restraining her growing annoyance, And were not nearly so alike for everyone to keep mixing us up!
Margaret blinked in genuine surprise, raising her brows as if searching for something on Alices face that she’d missed all these years.
Now, dont be silly, love, she replied warmly. Youre identical twins! When youre sitting together in silence, its practically impossible to tell you apartonly when you speak can anyone tell whos who.
Alice felt a swell of exasperation rising in her chest. She bit her lip, holding back a flood of emotions, then marched quickly toward the door. She left, closing it firmly behind her without another word.
Left alone, Margaret slowly shook her head, still bewildered by Alices reaction. As Alice made her way down the hallway, she silently repeated those painfully familiar words: Like two peas in a pod. To her, it sounded like a curse she couldnt shake off. How much longer? Why did everyone persist in ignoring their differences? For the world, they were always just the twins, with no names, no personalities, no interests of their own. Questions tumbled through Alices mind, questions for which she had yet to find answers
**************
Alice sat hunched on a park bench, knees gathered to her chest. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above, painting odd patterns on the ground, but she barely noticed the beauty. She was telling her friend Mary again what had troubled her for so long. Alices voice, low and almost hopeless, recounted the unbearable frustration of being constantly mistaken for her sister.
Mary listened intently, head tilted in sympathy. Suddenly inspired, she straightened up. You know, she said eagerly, why not change things completely? Cut your hair shortdye it an outrageous colour. No one could ever mistake you again! Emma is such a goody-two-shoes, shed never dare do something like that.
Alice glanced thoughtfully at her long hair, instinctively throwing it over her shoulder. The idea flickered in her eyesthen faded just as quickly.
Mum would never give me the money for that, Alice replied glumly. She likes us looking the same. My wishes never seem to matter.
But Mary refused to let the idea go. Waving her hand dismissively, she replied, Just ask for money for something elsea present for a classmate, say. Then nip round to the barbers I go to sometimesits dirt cheap. My dad took me once. Mum grumbled aftersaid it was far too short. But thats what you want, isnt it?
Alices brows lifted in mild interest. She was still hesitant, but the scheme was beginning to tempt her.
How much would it cost to dye it? she asked, thinking through the plan.
Mary grinned. Dont worry a bitI’ll ask my big sister. Shes great at colouring hair. You just need to buy the dye.
Mary was so confident that Alice couldnt help but smile. Maybe it really would work? Perhaps at last people would see her as an individual, not just one of the twins. Hope stirred inside her, though she struggled to believe that such a simple act might change anything.
A few days later, the girls put their plan into motion. Alice felt anxious but tried to hide it.
The barber they visited was modesta cramped shop, battered chair, and spotted mirrors. The hairdresser, an older lady with tired eyes, looked Alice over and asked shortly, How do you want it?
Alice hesitated for a second, then blurted, Short! Really short!
The woman nodded and set to work. She snipped briskly, without much small talk. As strands fell to the floor, Alice felt her stomach twist, but it was too late to back out now.
When it was done, Alice studied herself in the mirror. Cropped, a bit uneven, but it would do. At least I truly dont look like Emma now!
Eyes shining with nervous excitement, Alice hurried over to Marys house. Marys big sister was already waiting for them. After a quick debate, they chose a striking bright pinkno one would overlook that!
The result was more dramatic than anticipatedalas, in all the wrong ways. The pink was blinding, almost neon, and the wonky cut made her hair look even more chaotic. Alice grimaced but steeled herself: there was no going back.
At home, her mother was waiting. As soon as she saw Alice, Margaret paled and pressed a hand to her heart. The neat daughter she was used to had vanished, replaced by a wild thing with lopsided, fluorescent pink hair.
Alice, what have you done?! For the first time, her mother raised her voice, hands trembling, panic clear in her eyes. Have you seen yourself? Its dreadful! How will we fix this?
Alice clenched her fists, determined not to reveal how much she disliked the result herself. She stuck her chin out, replying defiantly, I like it! Now no one will mistake me for Emma!
Margaret shook her head, unable to comprehend the change. With shaky hands she fished out her mobile and dialled her hairdresser friend.
We need an urgent appointment A proper haircut would have been enough! she fretted, her voice bewildered.
Alice snorted but caught her own reflection out of the corner of her eye. The shrieking pink, the choppy fringeit was ghastly, but she couldnt admit it.
Youd never have let me do it anyway, she muttered, looking away.
Of course I would have! Why would you think otherwise? Margaret huffed, baffled. She still seemed in shock, and so she pressed her phone to her ear impatiently, waiting for an answer.
When the hairdresser finally picked up, Margaret spoke quickly, still on edge. Hello, are you free? My daughter needs your help. Shes decided to reinvent herself, and you wouldnt believe it if you saw her Yes, well come round in an hour.
She covered the phone with her hand and said to Alice, Get your things together. Were off to sort this out.
Alice crossed her arms, frowning. She wanted to argue, to insist it was her choice, her right to look as she pleased. But already she knew: the neon pink and ragged cut had brought her little joy, only discomfort and self-doubt.
Im fine as I am, Alice mumbled half-heartedly.
Margaret simply shook her head, gathering up her things.
Lets go. Well talk on the waythis cant be left.
Half an hour later they were in the car heading to the salon. Alice gazed out the window at the blurred countryside, swirling with thoughts. She tried to convince herself she had no regrets, but deep down she knew the experiment had failed.
The hairdresser greeted them kindly, raising an eyebrow but offering no reproach. Instead, she smiled softly. Lets see what we can do.
It took a couple of hours. With careful hands the hairdresser evened out the ragged edges and found a more natural shade, leaving only a slim streak of pink at Alices templea gentle, playful touch. Watching in the mirror, Alices wariness gave way to curiosity, then cautious approval. Slowly, the chaos resolved into a neat, stylish cut that flattered her features.
When all was finished, Margaret exhaled with relief. Now you look yourself!
She thanked the hairdresser again and again, her words warm and heartfelt. Youre a magicianI dont know what Id do without you.
Alice said nothing. She ran her fingers through her hair, judging the finished look. It wasnt bad, all told. Yet her mothers words echoed, irritatingly: Now you look yourself. Did that mean she hadnt before? Would they ever speak to Emma like that?
Without a word of thanks, Alice left the chair and headed outside, replaying the day in her mind. For now, she simply wanted to reach home and study her reflectioncalmly, analytically.
She refused to admit what everyone knew: Emma could never have got herself into such a mess. Emma was the model daughterthe perfect student, graceful dancer, always ready with a reading list whether it was Dickens or something new. She planned meticulously, never ran late, kept her notebooks pristineorganised even in the smallest things.
Alice, of course, was not stupid. She picked things up quickly, could answer any teachers question when the mood struck. But this very similarity to Emma drove her mad. Any success brought the refrain, Well, of course, just like Emma. A mistake prompted, Emma would never have done that. These constant comparisons silently eroded her confidence, feeding a slow-burning resentment.
After the haircut fiasco, Alice seemed to give herself permission for further rebellion. She stopped trying to keep uplet her schoolwork slide, left chores undone. She was determined to provenot just to others but herselfthat she was not Emma, and shed make sure everyone could see the difference.
Her marks started to plummetnot from inability, but from a lack of effort. Shed leave homework unfinished, skip lessons, yawn her way through tests. Where once shed cared, now she greeted poor grades with an indifferent shrug.
Her parents tried to intervene. First, they talked: reasonably, giving real-life examples, explaining the importance of knowledge and discipline. Then came stricter measures: grounding, confiscating her phone and laptop, curfews. But every clampdown only made Alice more stubborn. She didnt throw tantrums, didnt shout; she simply carried on in her own way, quietly determined.
Youve one overachieving daughterEmma, shed say, meeting their eyes without a flicker of embarrassment. Surely thats enough for you. Im not cut out for all that. Just accept me as I am.
Her parents exchanged helpless looks, seeing their daughter willfully veering off course but unsure how to help her.
In desperation, they took Alice to see a counsellora gentle woman with a soft voice and a perceptive, listening gaze. She spent a long time talking with Alice, searching for common ground, trying to understand where the defiance sprang from. Alice answered calmly, without rancour or particular interestshe neither blamed her parents nor Emma, only described things as she saw them.
Maybe the counsellor lacked skillor maybe Alice had mastered the part of the indifferent rebelbut nothing much changed. Alice held her ground, unmotivated to change. After several weeks, the specialist delicately suggested, Perhaps its best to ease off, just a little. Teenagers need space to find themselves, and sometimes its best to let them stumble upon their own path.
Her parents didnt know whether to be relieved or more worried. Wanting to help, they now had to learn simply to be availablenot lecturing, not setting harsh rules, hoping Alice would at last realise where her defiance was taking her.
As her poor grades became routine, the family learned to live with them. Her parents still worried but stopped the endless talkstrusting, perhaps, that Alice would eventually grasp the folly herself. In the meantime, new troubles crept in.
One afternoon, her mother caught sight of Alice in a rough circle of teenagers by a derelict shed, smoking and laughing too loudly. At dinner, she could not help herself, Emmas friends are such nice young peoplepolite, well-read, always going to museums or talking about books. And yours? Who are you even spending time with?
Alice said nothing, clutching her fork tightly. The old refrain rang in her ears: Emmas the success; Alice is the opposite. If Emma had ideal friends, then Alice must fall in with the very worst. She seemed almost bound to prove she was nothing like Emma.
So she drifted further in. Initially she stood on the edge, then she joined the chat, then the parties. Increasingly, Alice skipped classes to hang about with her new friends.
Alone, she often rebuked herself, What nonsense She knew her choices did not make her happy, but quitting seemed impossible. Whenever she thought of leaving the group, Emmas face hovered before herdutiful, accomplished, properand Alice would take a step in the other direction.
As the years passed, the sisters paths diverged further. Emma carried on to the Sixth Form; Alice, after her GCSEs, insisted on enrolling at an unremarkable community college. Her choice, despite her parents urging to reconsider. She thought college would mean freedom, a fresh startbut it quickly proved complicated.
Emma finished school with distinction and entered a prestigious university. She managed the workload, took supplementary classes, even volunteered. Her diary was full, but she thrived on it.
Alice scraped through college. She lacked motivation, couldnt focus on her studiesfrequently skipping, making no effort to catch up. Tutors complained, her peers looked askance, but Alice clung to her right to be not like Emma.
Nothing improved after college. Emma secured a promising job at a large firm, her efforts noticed straight away, her career advancing. She took on challenges eagerly, carefully planning her future.
Alice drifted from job to job one place too tedious, another with a disagreeable team, another with pay less than expected. She never stayed long, always with an excuse for leaving. Her parents tried to help, but she dismissed them, Ill sort myself out. I dont need your fussing.
Still she hoped, deep down, to find her own pathone not shadowed by Emmas, but fulfilling in its own right. Yet every bid for independence ended in fresh mistakes, and her sense of acting in opposition only grew heavier.
Alice herself couldnt explain why she acted as she did. It was as though a hidden switch was flicked every time Emma accomplished something newa first, a prize, a round of applause. Alice would find herself veering in the opposite direction once more. She could promise herself at night, staring at the ceilingtomorrow Ill start afresh, tomorrow Ill be different. Yet by morning, everything was as before. It felt like an invisible snarethe harder she struggled to escape, the tighter it held her.
In time, a strange apathy descended. Alice stopped phoning home, avoided family gatherings, didnt want to hear how well things turned out for Emmaso neat, so steadfast, so expected. She built up a wall, shutting out the lot of them. Curiously, that’s when things finally began to look up.
First, she found a jobnot remarkable, but solid, with agreeable hours and fair pay. To her own surprise, she fit well with her colleagues, and would come home feeling the day had somehow mattered.
Next, she met George. Their paths crossed by chance at a café near her office. He was unlike any other boy she had knownquiet, thoughtful, without showing off. George didnt try to impress her, and this only made Alice warm to him more. They began spending time together, walking through town and talking about anything and everything. For the first time in ages, Alice felt she could simply be herselfno contests, no need for rivalry.
Gradually, she began to make plans. Not ambitious, not years ahead; simplysave for a holiday, learn French, perhaps move to a nicer flat. At last, life was starting to feel manageable and purposeful.
But one evening, her mother called. Margarets voice was low, hesitant, as though afraid of saying too much.
Alice, we need to talk. Please come home.
Alice arrived to find her parents sitting quietly in the lounge, more serious than shed ever seen them. Her mother took a while to find the words that would change everything:
Emma cant have children. The doctors dont hold out much hope.
A heavy silence filled the room. Alice was lost for words. She picked over the news in her mindfeeling pity, anger at fate, searching for the right thing to say. Yet through it all, an insistent, unwelcome urge fluttered upthe same one she had wrestled for years.
Before a year had passed, Alice had her first baby. Not long after, she had a second. Shed never be able to explain to herself the hastethough she loved her children deeply, taking pride in their first words and wobbly steps. But somewhere, always lurking at the edge of her mind, was the thought: Now Im truly different from Emmanow I have something she never will.
She knew it was wrong to measure her life as Emmas opposite, but with each smile from her babies, she found new reasons: I did this for me. I wanted children. Its my choice.
Yet, deep down, she knew: if not for that piece of news about Emma, things might have turned out very differently
*************************
Emma would listen to her mother describing Alices escapades, anxiety and bafflement commingling in her voice as she wondered how to help her younger daughter climb out of the hole she was digging for herself.
When Margaret finished, Emma quietly, but firmly said, Please, dont tell Alice anything about me.
Her mothers eyes widened in surprise. But why? Youre sisters
Emma sighed, choosing her words. Shed mulled over this decision for a long time and stood by it.
Shes destroying herself trying to be my opposite, Emma explained gently. Every time she hears of my successes, it only spurs her to do the opposite. She isnt seeking her own wayshes simply running in the other direction.
Margaret was about to object, but Emma pressed on. If you care about her, even a little, dont mention me around her at all. Its for her own good! Let her forget about me and live her life without looking over her shoulder.
Margaret stared at her elder daughter, processing her words. She was not used to such firmness from Emma.
Do you really think itll help? she asked finally, her voice trembling with both worry and a glimmer of hope.
I dont know, Emma replied honestly. But nothing else has workedtalks, persuasion, explanations. Maybe if she stops comparing herself to me, shell finally have the chance to find her real self.
Margaret nodded slowly, though uncertainty lingered in her eyes. She understood her daughters logic, but her mothers heart resisted abandoning Alice that easily.
Ill try, she promised. But it wont be easy.
Emma hugged her, gentle and reassuring. I know. But we must for Alices sake.
From then, Margaret became careful, avoiding any comparisons between her daughters, focusing conversations with Alice on Alice herself, her hopes, her joys. It was awkward at firstold habits of praise and comparison die hardbut soon she learnt to ask about Alices own interests, about what mattered to her.
Emma too respected her own decision, never seeking out Alice, not calling, not intruding in her life. Sometimes, behind the distance, she mourned the wall between thembut she knew this might be Alices best chance at last to build her own life.
P.S.
Later, Alices husband gently insisted she see a professional therapist. Bit by bit, haltingly, she began to walk towards a happier futurea future where her sister need not cast a shadow anymoreAt first, Alice resistedshe didnt need to dredge through the past, to untangle knots that felt as old as she was. But Georges quiet insistence, his unworried patience, won her over. She found herself, one grey morning, sitting opposite a new face: a kind-eyed therapist, pen poised but not judging, as Alice tried at last to unravel the tangle of herself.
The questions felt odd, even intrusive, but slowly Alice began to speak. Of childhood shadows and bright-mirrored twinhood, of the years spent sprinting away from sameness as much as from disappointment, of the strange hollowness that success and failure, both, left behind.
Session by session, the pressure in her chest began to loosen. There were no revelationsjust a patient sorting. That voice inside, the one that measured her every step in Emma-lengths, was only as powerful as she allowed. What a possibility: that she might want, simply, to want her own life, not just the opposite of someone elses.
She learned to watch her children play, not as proof of victory against fate or family, but as small, whole lives blossoming, mysterious and unmeasured, needing only her presence. She returned Margarets calls more often, the edge of rivalry softened. Slowly, even, she reached for Emmaa quiet holiday card, a smile exchanged at their mothers birthday, awkward but genuine.
The years edged forward, gentle in their repetition. One evening, after a quiet meal, George asked, Do you ever wish things had been different? Alice, not looking away from her sleeping sons curled fist, answered softly, No, not now. I think I finally figured out the trick.
He raised an eyebrow. Whats that?
She smiled, tears bright and unashamed. To stop running from shadows, and start walking in your own lighthowever it falls. To want things for myself, not as a challenge or a protest, but as a beginning.
As moonlight spilled into their home and her daughters soft laughter echoed in the next room, Alice closed her eyes and breathed ina self she had chosen, a step into the unknown, but not the void. She no longer needed to be the opposite of anyone. She was, simply, herself. And at last, that was enough.
