Part 3: My Twin’s Childhood Accident — The Day That Triggered a Hidden Memory
I am about to find out the truth about my life. A childhood accident involving my identical twin would form the portal to a horrific memory. It would point me to an emotional fractures and and a deeper, unspoken trauma.
But ultimately, the truth cannot be quashed and I had recalled Eve’s bloodied face after throwing the glass bottle. This proves how truth will always win.
I felt bad but privately grateful. Mum had not hung me out to dry in front of everyone. She had not punished me and I don’t recall being grounded.
My twin holds no resentment for what has happened. But understandably, she had upheld the truth and I am grateful to her.”
I had believed nothing more was to be said about the day Eve had her accident. But I was wrong. Twenty years later, I would discover something about that day that didn’t make sense and would raise uncomfortable questions.
Part 4: The Missing Four Hours or go back to part 2
About this blog
The moment I learned the truth
How I learned about my toddlerhood
My book Mirror Image Shattered
About my diaries
Links to my other articles
The Memory That Rose From the Sea
I am sitting on the quayside badly shaken after believing I had lost my children to to sea. This would trigger an old, equally-traumatic memory of when I had been 4. My twin had injured herself after a squabble and I had darted through the back door on seeing blood on her face.
Eve’s accident is nothing new, for it was an old story that my family seldom talks of now. What shocked me was how the mind can play tricks, hiding the trauma sensation and the horrific detail.
Climactic scene in my novel involving a broken bottle.
The image shows an early excerpt from my novel, The Lessons. Main protagonist, Aidan breaks a glass bottle, causing injury before he flees north to a hideout. I have altered his name as, as his real one contains my rapist's name. And I wish to remain anonymous.
So what happened to my twin Eve one August day in 1969?
For years, I had believed Eve had fallen on a glass cabinet. We were alone at the time. We rarely discussed the incident, but in 1996 I received counselling after suffering a bout of intrusive thoughts. These horrific episodes have haunted me since my deepest childhood and I reasoned Dad’s psychotic episodes had been the cause. During the counselling, my troubled childhood was aired including my old grievances.
I decide to dust down my old diaries and write a summary. A week later, I am left feeling emotionally bruised after reliving my difficult childhood. My twin Eve and I then meet up to fill the void of my pre-writing years.
Here is an abridged account taken from my book Mirror Image Shattered.
I said to her, ‘I sort of remember what happened on that day, but what do you remember?’
To which she replied, ‘We had an argument over orange juice.’
To which I came back, ‘Yes, you fell on the glass cabinet, didn’t you?’
Eve stared aghast and I sensed tension. ‘No,’ she replied, ‘you threw a glass bottle at me.’
I frowned with exasperation. ‘What? No, I didn’t!’
Eve grew adamant. ‘Yes, you did. You threw the glass at me.’
At that instant, a clear image of her face condensed into my head. Eve had been right. She hadn’t fallen at all. She had been standing up, not far from me, Blood had coated the lower part of her face. It was an old memory and I hadn’t seen it in decades. I flinched inside. ‘Oh…yes,’ I said.
We grew quiet.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry for doing that to you.’
To which we fell silent before we talked on something else."
Eve’s accident is nothing new, for it was an old story that my family seldom talks of now. What shocked me was how the mind can play tricks, hiding the trauma sensation and the horrific detail.
The Patterns in My Novels
Worse still, I noticed patterns within my novels that I had feverishly been writing for decades. I never noticed them before: broken glass, blood, disfigured faces and characters running north to a hideout. They were everywhere.
Climactic scene in my novel involving a broken bottle.
The image shows an early excerpt from my novel, The Lessons. Main protagonist, Aidan breaks a glass bottle, causing injury before he flees north to a hideout. I have altered his name as, as his real one contains my rapist's name. And I wish to remain anonymous.
The Fuel behind my Novels
It seemed my novels were fuelled by a traumatic event of when I was 4, and I hadn’t even realized!So what happened to my twin Eve one August day in 1969?
For years, I had believed Eve had fallen on a glass cabinet. We were alone at the time. We rarely discussed the incident, but in 1996 I received counselling after suffering a bout of intrusive thoughts. These horrific episodes have haunted me since my deepest childhood and I reasoned Dad’s psychotic episodes had been the cause. During the counselling, my troubled childhood was aired including my old grievances.
I decide to dust down my old diaries and write a summary. A week later, I am left feeling emotionally bruised after reliving my difficult childhood. My twin Eve and I then meet up to fill the void of my pre-writing years.
Here is an abridged account taken from my book Mirror Image Shattered.
The Conversation That Changed Everything
“Eve and I tried to recall events of my pre-diary years. We talked on Dad's illness and Mum's difficult moods. The subject of Eve’s scar of course came up.I said to her, ‘I sort of remember what happened on that day, but what do you remember?’
To which she replied, ‘We had an argument over orange juice.’
To which I came back, ‘Yes, you fell on the glass cabinet, didn’t you?’
Eve stared aghast and I sensed tension. ‘No,’ she replied, ‘you threw a glass bottle at me.’
I frowned with exasperation. ‘What? No, I didn’t!’
Eve grew adamant. ‘Yes, you did. You threw the glass at me.’
At that instant, a clear image of her face condensed into my head. Eve had been right. She hadn’t fallen at all. She had been standing up, not far from me, Blood had coated the lower part of her face. It was an old memory and I hadn’t seen it in decades. I flinched inside. ‘Oh…yes,’ I said.
We grew quiet.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry for doing that to you.’
To which we fell silent before we talked on something else."
The Myth and the Truth
I went to bed and ruminated over the myth. Mum had been behind it. She had created a cover story in order to protect me from my own memory.But ultimately, the truth cannot be quashed and I had recalled Eve’s bloodied face after throwing the glass bottle. This proves how truth will always win.
I felt bad but privately grateful. Mum had not hung me out to dry in front of everyone. She had not punished me and I don’t recall being grounded.
My twin holds no resentment for what has happened. But understandably, she had upheld the truth and I am grateful to her.”
I had believed nothing more was to be said about the day Eve had her accident. But I was wrong. Twenty years later, I would discover something about that day that didn’t make sense and would raise uncomfortable questions.
Part 4: The Missing Four Hours or go back to part 2
About this blog
The moment I learned the truth
How I learned about my toddlerhood
My book Mirror Image Shattered
About my diaries
Links to my other articles
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