I have always hated my sister. I never understood why, even though we are twins, she has everything—beauty, popularity, grades—while I am the complete opposite. She is the school's golden girl, the valedictorian-to-be. And me? I'm fat, not particularly smart, and introverted. My only friend hangs out with me just because she hates Lily as much as I do. People at school don't believe I'm Lily's twin sister. They often mock me with exaggerated laughs: "Oh my god, Emma, is Lily really your sister? You two are like night and day." "Emma, why is your sister so perfect and you're so... tragic? Did you mutate in the womb?" Of course, they only dare to say these things to my face. Because if Lily heard them, she would stare at them blankly until they apologized to me. But if it weren't for her, I wouldn't have to endure this in the first place. So every day, I silently pray in my heart. If only Lily had never existed. 1 I didn't always hate Lily. When we were little, for a long time, I was proud of her. She has been a star in school since she was young. I have never seen anyone better looking than her. Even in the uniform school clothes, she stood out in the crowd as if God favored her and gave her an extra filter. Not to mention her unparalleled grades. When I was painfully memorizing multiplication tables in elementary school, she could already use algebraic equations to solve word problems. Usually, the younger twin wouldn't call the older one "sister," but when I was little, I was most excited to point at Lily standing on various podiums and brag to my friends: "See that? That's my sister." They would often look at me with envy, jealous that I had such an amazing sister. When did this situation start to change? Probably once after I finished bragging, a kid asked me seriously and confusedly: "Emma, why is your sister so outstanding, but you are so mediocre?" Mediocre. That was the first time I heard that word. Before that, I never felt how bad I was. Maybe because Mom often told me: "Emma, you are the normal child. Your sister is a super mutation, so don't compare yourself to her. In Mom's heart, you and Lily are equally excellent, understand?" I would nod obediently every time, knowing I wasn't bad, just that Lily was too outstanding. That was the first time someone asked me, why are you so mediocre? Yeah, why? Why did we grow in the same womb, and Lily was only born eleven minutes and eight seconds earlier than me, yet she is so excellent? Of course, this doubt was fleeting. When Lily used her prize money to buy me cake, I would forget all about it, rush over to hug her arm, and say Lily, you are the best. Lily would turn her head to look at me, her face, carved like white jade, looking cold. From a young age, she had a coldness that pushed people away. She turned a blind eye to my coquetry and only said indifferently: "You can eat after you finish the exercises I gave you." I wailed loudly. Mentally, Lily and I seemed to differ not by eleven minutes and eight seconds, but by eleven years and eight months. Of course, Lily isn't perfect either. I don't know if this is a common problem for all geniuses, but her emotions are much scarcer than ordinary people. Later, when I watched the BBC show "Sherlock," I often saw Lily's shadow in the genius named Sherlock. Only she is a bit more taciturn. When Lily and I were babies, she already showed characteristics different from ordinary babies. Mom said she rarely cried, always staring quietly at the environment with a pair of dark eyes. Occasionally, when annoyed by my crying, she would frown and cover my mouth with her hand. Later, when she learned to speak and walk, at the age when children are annoying, she would always sit there quietly, playing with those educational toys and quickly finding the patterns. Her precociousness worried my mom. Although people around us praised my mom for her good fortune, saying this child looked extraordinary and would surely amaze the world in the future, Mom still often looked at Lily and frowned. This worry reached its peak when Lily and I were six. That year, I picked up a sparrow with a broken wing, holding it in my palm to bring back for Mom to save. The next day, Lily dissected the sparrow. The sparrow was carefully cut open from the middle of the abdomen. Its heart, lungs, and kidneys were neatly arranged on the side. Lily looked up amidst Mom's suppressed scream of surprise, even wearing plastic gloves stained with blood. She really didn't understand the horror on my and Mom's faces, just explaining seriously: "I read in a book that 'although the sparrow is small, it has all the vital organs.' I just wanted to verify if it was true." I was scared into crying loudly and had a high fever that night. I remember being afraid of Lily for a while because of this. Mom took Lily to see a doctor, but fortunately, Lily didn't have an antisocial personality disorder; she just had mild Asperger's Syndrome. After the third or fourth grade, no signs of this syndrome could be seen in Lily. She talked normally with other kids and participated in group activities. Mom thought Lily was cured. Only I felt it was because of Lily's high IQ. She was good at observing and learning. She just gradually found the skills to get along with people from Mom's attitude of facing a formidable enemy. She couldn't feel the emotions of others at all, nor did she have any feelings for anything, except me. Only with me would Lily show emotions that didn't belong to high-functioning autism. She seemed to like me very much. Even though I hated her so much later, my genius twin sister with emotional barriers seemed to give me her only normal human emotions. 2 Lily didn't really have any hobbies. She didn't like sweets, pretty new clothes, amusement parks, traveling, or the daily updated teen dramas. She didn't even immerse herself in books because she liked them, but because she found the things in them more interesting than real people and events. The reason I say she seemed to like me is that she would use her prize money to buy me desserts, buy me skirts I liked, and bring me limited edition posters of stars whose names she never knew. She knew all my preferences like the back of her hand and satisfied me as much as possible. After I gradually distanced myself from her in middle school, she liked to look at me quietly with a frown from time to time. I knew she was observing me. When encountering something she didn't understand, she observed quietly until the mystery was solved. She didn't know why I distanced myself from her. I distanced myself from Lily, initially just because of the shame of puberty. The passage of time widened the gap between Lily and me. She became fairer and prettier, her exquisite features clear and refined, her body tall and slender like growing shoots, just like Snow White in comic books, plus her report card that always ranked first. I don't know if it was the nutritional distribution in the womb for twins, but my body was weaker than Lily's when I was young. I often took medicine when I was little. At that time, the difference between Lily and me wasn't particularly big. At least in appearance, I was a cute little dumpling. But when peers started puberty in fifth or sixth grade, I seemed to be played at 0.5x speed. My body expanded horizontally, becoming fat. Even though I deliberately controlled my diet, I still gained weight uncontrollably even drinking water, plus my increasingly terrible grades. These made me gradually sensitive and inferior. Lily and I were not in the same class, but my teacher's favorite sentence to me was: "Emma, can you learn from your sister?" I comforted myself that every teacher who said this to me might have started with the intention of hoping for my improvement, a good starting point. But their gaze looking down from the podium always contained a fleeting... regret and disgust. As if saying why the one assigned to this class wasn't Lily. Whenever this happened, classmates would turn around to look at me in unison, their eyes filled with sympathy, understanding, and pity. I shrank myself again and again, wanting to shrink into the desk hole to shield all these gazes. But it was useless; these gazes followed like shadows. Although I went from bragging about Lily to never mentioning her, every time Lily shone brightly on the podium, I could always hear whispers pointing at me: "That's Emma, Lily's twin sister. Weird, right? They are twins, but not alike at all." "Huh? That's her." "Are she and Lily fraternal twins? I heard fraternal twins would be completely different." "God, the gap between her and Lily is as big as a fairy and an ugly duckling." Of course, I understood this discussion was just curiosity, unrelated to malice—children's malice is always hidden under a cloud of innocence. Also, Mom's attitude towards me at home became more and more cautious. Lily and I didn't have a father. He sacrificed himself to save a drowning person before Lily and I were born, so Mom raised us alone. She is a good mother. To avoid partiality caused by the huge gap between the two children, she tried her best to praise me from all angles, wanting to avoid my increasingly unbalanced and inferior mentality. Even between Lily and me, she paid more attention and care to me. I didn't want her to be sad. Thinking of this, I would hide my inferiority and jealousy well, pretending nothing was wrong to talk and get along with Lily, ask her questions, be a coquettish and innocent sister, making my alienation from her look not so alienated. Maybe my emotions were often erratic, so Lily would often frown at my abnormality, as if not understanding what was wrong with me. As if I were the hardest problem she had ever done. She didn't understand, which was right. Human emotions are ever-changing, complicated enough that even the person themselves can't understand, let alone Lily who only knew a little about emotions. She wouldn't hear the words I heard, and everyone around looked at her with admiration and praise. Although she didn't care about these, she wouldn't encounter everything I encountered. I tried hard to counsel myself psychologically. I told myself Charlie Munger once said: "In a person's long life, there are two things that must never be done. The first is never to feel sorry for yourself, and the second is never to be jealous—jealousy is the only one of the seven deadly sins that has no fun at all." Until she and I advanced to high school together. 3 Lily gave a speech on stage as the representative of new students. On the first day of enrollment, she became famous throughout the grade. Good grades, good looks, especially that cool aloofness. When I returned to class after the ceremony, she had become the recognized school beauty of the new grade. People in the class were discussing the name of the girl who just spoke on behalf of the freshmen and why she was so pretty. I sat by the wall without saying a word, attempting to make myself invisible from this topic. But it was useless. This town is just this big. There were many familiar faces in the same grade. From those whispers containing "Lily," "twins," and so on, I saw many gossiping eyes looking back towards me. Then, without exception, with obvious disappointment and shock, as if saying: "What, she is the school beauty genius Lily's twin sister?? Genetic mutation?" I had learned to turn a blind eye to such gazes. Lily and I were not assigned to the same class. When I was packing my bag after school, I heard wow sounds in the class, boys' voices especially prominent. I looked up out the window and unsurprisingly saw Lily standing at the classroom door waiting for me. Even though I had faced that face every day since birth, I still had to admit that every time I saw Lily suddenly, I would subconsciously marvel from the bottom of my heart, how could someone be so favored by the Creator. Lily stood expressionlessly at the door, habitually ignoring these amazed gazes, just waiting for me—we have gone to and from school together every day since we were young. But now, I suddenly wished she hadn't appeared outside my classroom. On the way back, I remained silent. Lily turned her head, her clear and clean eyes like mercury reflecting my small shadow. She asked me: "Is someone bullying you?" Her expression was quiet, her tone flat, as if just asking casually. I knew she was serious. If I casually said a name, then within three days, the person I mentioned would definitely have bad luck. This is from my experience. Before elementary school, when Lily hadn't become famous for her grades yet, nosy relatives often asked my mom if Lily was autistic. She was too cold and withdrawn, her emotions not like a child, overly stable to a scary degree. But she already knew how to protect me then. Kindergarten kids often snatched my things. Because I was weak and wouldn't fight back like other kids or cry to the teacher, they called me "sickly," pushing and pulling me to snatch my things. Every time this happened, Lily would open a pair of pitch-black eyes, quietly watching the person bullying me. Later, without exception, these people either found bugs in their schoolbags, or yellow sand mixed in their water cups and lunch boxes, or tripped over something unknown and fell flat on their backs, or fell off monkey bars or something else... I paused. The sentence "Lily, let's go our separate ways from now on" spun around my mouth, but I held it back in the end. I forced a smile at Lily and whispered: "I don't know anyone in the new class. Just started school, maybe still a bit unaccustomed." Lily looked at me thoughtfully and didn't speak. The next day, I heard my homeroom teacher quarreling with the homeroom teacher of Class 3. Because Lily submitted a class transfer application, the reason being she wanted to be in the same class as her sister. Class 3's teacher naturally disagreed—Lily was the most promising student of the new batch. He was counting on Lily getting into or being recommended to the best university to bring him glory. My teacher was overjoyed upon hearing this. The two argued fiercely because of Lily. While they were arguing, the principal happened to pass by, asked in surprise what happened, and laughed after hearing the story. I think this might be the highlight moment of my entire high school life because the principal personally came forward and asked me if I wanted to transfer to Class 3 to be with Lily, or if I wanted my sister to transfer to my class. In my brief academic career so far, I have never been taken so seriously, of course, because of Lily's halo. I wasn't flattered but wanted to scream, to emit a majestic roar from the bottom of my heart. But I was too nervous. All eyes fell on me. I just felt suffocated, opened my mouth but couldn't say a word. Finally, the principal made the decision and let me transfer to Class 3. Because they didn't want the good student who brought glory to the school to move around. Unable to resist, I packed my things. When I stepped into Class 3, I experienced invisible bullying again. A slew of surprised, sympathetic, or amused looks and attention. Someone even exaggeratedly shouted, eyes scanning back and forth between Lily and me, then opened their mouth wide, whispering to the classmates around. This attention caused by Lily was like the flame of a pile of firewood, roasting me slowly bit by bit. It wouldn't give you direct relief, but like boiling a frog in warm water, it eroded your endurance bit by bit. The unbearable numbness and hate penetrated from the skin to the bone, unable to break free, until it suddenly erupted. The teacher asked me to introduce myself. I ignored him directly, walked from the podium to the very back window seat under everyone's surprised gaze, put down my bag and sat down as if in a fit of pique. So everyone's gaze fell on Lily in surprise again. The teacher froze but didn't say anything. Later after class, Lily came to find me to eat together. I looked at her expressionlessly and said coldly: "I don't want to eat with you." She froze but didn't ask why, instead returning to her seat to read again. I sat alone in the back window seat, looking at her slender back, and simply turned my head away, out of sight, out of mind. The class gradually emptied. After a while, Lily came over again and asked me: "Eat?" Her tone was ordinary and calm, as if she didn't see I was angry, as if the point of my sentence "I don't want to eat with you" just now was not that I didn't want to eat with her, but that I didn't want to eat when she called me. So she waited for a while and came to ask me again. Not hungry just now, hungry now? Want to eat? If I still said I didn't want to eat, then she would come ask me again in a while. Getting angry with Lily was like punching cotton hard. I really didn't want to appear too unreasonable, but aren't adolescent hormones unstable like this? I endured and endured, finally couldn't help standing up, shouting loudly: "What exactly do you want? Can you not make decisions on your own? Did you ask me if I wanted to be in the same class as you? So many people circling around you, are you very proud? So many people using me to foil you, making you appear better and more excellent, are you very proud?" This sentence was actually completely me speaking without thinking, because Lily never had emotions similar to "pride and smugness" due to these external envies and comparisons. Even without my contrast, she was dazzlingly excellent. This is an objective fact. Only I, a sewer rat who is dark, damp, and jealous of my own twin sister, would judge others by myself and have such thoughts. If there is telepathy between twins, I wonder if Lily would sense the vicious thoughts I couldn't control in countless late nights: If only Lily suddenly became ugly. If only Lily suddenly became stupid. If only Lily suddenly got fat. If only Lily never existed, if only I never had this sister... if only I were Lily... that would be great... How vicious. The closest family member harbors the most vicious curses against herself. If she knew what I thought, with her thin emotions, how would she view this sister of hers? Lily has never done anything to hurt me. I hate her simply because she is excellent. Her excellence makes me jealous, and jealousy gnaws at me day and night, accumulating into malice towards her that I can no longer hide. I glared at her, chest heaving rapidly due to anger and excitement, but a surge of pleasure floated from the depths of my brain. I even looked forward to what reaction Lily would make, surprised? Shocked? Sad? Angry? Disappointed? But Lily lowered her eyelashes, and I couldn't see her expression clearly. She said nothing. 4 Lily and I fell into a cold war. Of course, it was my unilateral cold war. Lily treated me as usual. I ate alone, sat alone in the back, occasionally daydreaming, occasionally listening to the class. I still went home alone. Sometimes Lily would wait for me at the intersection near home, then enter the house one after another with me—she actually knew not to worry Mom. Besides that, I hoped everyone could treat me as invisible. But I actually received "friendship" invitations. Many girls in the class actually took the initiative to chat with me, pull me to eat, and come to talk to me after class. When did this start? Probably since the first monthly exam when Lily took first place in the whole school, with full marks in science and only losing over a hundred points in liberal arts combined. She was 195 points higher than the second place—because this was the first monthly exam, the school wanted to warn students to study hard later, so the difficulty of the test paper was at the highest intensity. Now she was truly famous throughout the school. All teachers looked at Lily with undisguised appreciation, their mantra becoming: "Same teacher, same classroom, how can Lily score so many points?" During breaks, boys from other classes often crowded the windows of our class along the corridor, coming to see this genius school beauty scholar. Even senior boys came. Her desk would be full of gifts and love letters every morning. Later, our teacher had to patrol the corridor frequently during breaks to drive away those boys. It wasn't until the heat brought by Lily's monthly exam slowly cooled down that it got better. I saw many girls in the class secretly looking at Lily, then whispering to each other. Those gazes looking over were emotions I was all too familiar with—jealousy, envy, disgust, disdain, pretended indifference... While saying they appreciated and admired Lily, they seemed to carry a magnifying glass in their eyes, attempting to find faults or flaws in Lily... Lily was also not good at or didn't want to maintain interpersonal relationships. She was aloof and indifferent, wouldn't echo girls' topics, and looked at those boys confessing and hitting on her like looking at garbage, so there were many boys who turned angry from embarrassment. If you can't get it, you want to destroy it—or pull you down from the altar, turning you into someone on the same level as him that he can get, this is the malice existing in the bones of most people. At first, a girl showed kindness to me, talked to me, asked me to eat, brought me some snacks, and then pulled me into her circle of friends, and I met her friends. I seemed to suddenly become very popular. Honestly, at first, I was a bit flattered by this sudden friendliness, especially seeing Lily seemed to be isolated by an invisible tacit understanding at the same time. That sense of superiority I had never experienced over Lily arose spontaneously. Every time PE class needed to form teams, Lily was the one left alone. The PE teacher stood in front, looked at Lily standing alone on the side, looked at the group of girls standing together, and asked in confusion: "Does this student have no partner? Which student is willing to team up with her?" The air was silent for a moment. Everyone was collectively silent, standing still. No one had discussed it beforehand; isolation became an invisible, naturally occurring collective behavior. Lily stood there indifferently, accepting everyone's scrutiny, whether pitiful or mocking. Some people's expressions gradually became excited, staring at Lily's expression like watching a show. At this moment, the collective perpetrators were high above, as if they had leverage over Lily. They hoped this unreachable flower would bow down under collective power. I stood in the crowd, looking at Lily. Emotionally, I felt I should be very happy, but I couldn't ignore that under the corners of my lips I tried to raise, there was a sudden uncontrollable sharp sting and empty dullness deep in my heart. I looked at Lily, wondering if she would look at me. If she looked at me, even a glance for help, what would I do? Would I immediately uncontrollably walk to her side? I wasn't sure. Lily didn't give me this chance either; she didn't glance at me at all. She was not embarrassed, nor did she have the unease or begging for group acceptance that those people expected. She just looked at the PE teacher calmly and asked quietly: "Teacher, since no one wants to team up with me, can I go back to the classroom to read?" Later, Lily could skip all PE classes—this was a privilege given to her by the homeroom teacher. During the break on the playground, a girl opened the first topic seemingly unintentionally: "Emma, being sisters with someone like that must be hard, right?" Such an understated tone, as if just ordinary gossip between friends. The next second, everyone's eyes fell on me coincidentally. I felt the hidden expectation in their eyes. I looked at the person asking me. Sophia. The second place crushed by Lily by 195 points in the first monthly exam. But unlike Lily, she was adept at interpersonal relationships. Less than two months after school started, she had faintly become the leader of the small group of girls. She was jealous of Lily or hated her, emotions I was all too familiar with. Without Lily, she might be the most brilliant and outstanding one. She was excellent, she just met Lily. Of course, if playing mind games could be scored, she would score more than 195 points higher than Lily. I understood the reason they befriended me. Probably all for this moment. For the moment I let down my guard, using this understated guiding question to guide me to express dissatisfaction with Lily, and then reveal some of Lily's privacy or shortcomings. I thought no matter what I said, before school ended this afternoon, the bad words about Lily from my mouth would be embellished and become topics for everyone to discuss privately. "Huh? Is she such a person? Doesn't look like it?" "Her own sister Emma said it, can it be fake?" "Tsk tsk, you really can't judge a book by its cover, so pretentious." "Tch, what's the use of good grades? Character is so rotten." ... Thinking of this, I suddenly laughed out loud. Meeting those expectant eyes looking at me, I said: "It is indeed quite hard. My sister has been excellent and perfect since childhood, making me look like trash. I really envy her so much." Sophia's face stiffened, then she smiled, kind and gentle: "Is Lily like this at home too? Does she have no quirks?" She smiled again as she spoke, her face carrying just the right amount of curiosity and innocence, as if just gossip between friends: "Just pure curiosity, don't worry, we won't tell anyone." I laughed. I thought my expression must be cooling down bit by bit, but the corners of my lips were still raised. I said: "Nothing like that. You deliberately forcing like this, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to make one up now so you can slander and spread rumors?" Everyone's face didn't look too good. Later, the class bell rang just in time. Everyone tacitly changed the subject, but when going back to the teaching building, they no longer held my arm and surrounded me in the middle like before, but intentionally or unintentionally left me at the end, separated by a short distance. Isolated so blatantly. Such familiar tactics. I sneered in my heart.
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