Possessed By The Green-eyed ...(Stephanie Egbert) Possessed By The Green Eyed...

I kneel in the couch near the window as I watch
the large snowflakes cover the grass and driveway.
My name is Samantha and I am six years old, waiting for
the car with Grandpa and Mom to come with the new
baby in the family. I am quite unhappy about the prospect.
I want to be the only one.

I gasp! There they are in the car. Grandpa goes to the
passenger back seat to open the door for Mom.
She is carrying my baby sister, Amanda. I breathe hard and
tell myself, "I can't take this."

Grandma is at the door to open it for everyone. I say to myself,
"What am I going to do?"

As they enter the living room, everyone is anxious to hold the
baby except me. As everyone peel off their outerwear,
Grandma puts on the coffee. I wish my dad was here. He had
to work overtime at the airlines.

Everyone expresses, "Ooh, aw," over the baby. I try not to be
sick. After everyone holds the baby for a while, Mom says,
"Samantha, do you want to hold the baby?"

Reluctantly, I reply, "I can."

"Sure, but you will need a pillow to support Amanda's neck and
spine. And always sit down," Mom instructs.

Mom places Amanda in my arms. Then she goes to get some coffee
in the kitchen.

I remove the pillow and stand up. I bounce the baby around
saying "coo, coo, coo."

I think this is a bunch of crap. I am being treated
different than my baby sister Amanda.

The baby whimpers so I give the baby to grandpa.
I go to the extra bedroom where I sleep, grab my pillow
and plant my face in it sobbing.

After a week, we go home to Seattle. It doesn't get any better
with my mom, dad, and Amanda. It's all about the baby, not me.
Dad was like everyone else when he saw the baby. He cuddled her
and whispered sweet things in her ear. It was more than I could
bare.

I spend a lot of time in my room with my parent's lack of
attention, my uncertainty and loneliness everyday. It is
difficult to control my aggressive reactions throughout the day.
It wasn't unusual for me to take Amanda's toys, blankets, and
clothing from her room. It gave me gratification to
take something of hers. Mom inquired, "Samantha, do you
know what happened to Amanda's brown stuffed bear?"

I lied, "I have no idea. I am sure it will turn up." Afterward
I giggled hysterically inside my room.

Mom gives me the title of being her helper with the baby.
She has me fetch things for her. I piddle around and take a
long time to bring what she needs. I say, "I was in the bathroom."
when she questions me.

Mom nurses the baby in the rocking chair in Amanda's
room. Every time I need her to help me with homework,
that's where she is. My emotions are so intense, I
get stomach aches.

The years go by and I am cleaver enough to get
away with my naughty conduct. I continue to
torment my little sister. My resentment, bitterness
and anxiety intensify. Playing with Amanda isn't
an option. Playing with the dog, Charmin, is my
outlet for attention and affection.

Amanda is in school at this period of my life. After
school, her friends come over and they are
easily sidetracked to come play with me. Amanda
cries to mom, but mom only expresses it is important to
share her friendships. My winning any conflict is
everything.

I am mean and hit, punch and push Amanda to tears.
Any time Amanda gets close to me, I punch
her in the arm with all my might. She is always
crying. It gives me great satisfaction. She is
timid. I can get her to do anything for me. If I
take a favorite toy, it gives me the power to have her
wait on me, before I give it back to her.

Amanda looks up to me as her older sister. She
comments how much she wants to be like me. I
am stronger physically and I am verbally smart. I
never did understand why Amanda likes me despite the
way I treated her all these years.

Doom hit our family when mom and dad decided to
divorce. Dad has us every other weekend. I
am happy because I see Dad more than I ever have.
He picks us up in the car. He has a tendency
to move the car when Amanda tries to get inside.
He does this repeatedly. He and I roar with
laughter. Amanda's eyes fill with tears. He
finally lets her inside after the third time.

The behavior outbreaks continue at Dad's
apartment. We are allowed to watch horror
movies. I make noises and jump out to
scare Amanda to death. Then I roll on the floor
laughing. Amanda does a lot of crying and
screaming. I try to build my self esteem which is the
motive for scaring her, but it seems never attainable.

Back at home, Mom is suspicious of the physical
violence between the girls. But Mom said there
had to be proof of any bodily harm. Amanda scratched
her own arms from desperation, but Mom didn't
believe her and knew it was self inflicted. Down deep
Mom knew Amanda was hurt by the physical abuse. But
the bleeding injuries were so severe that Mom knew
there was a major problem.

The next day I punched Amanda on the back. She
was screaming when Mom walked in the kitchen.

Mom shouts, "Stop! What are you doing?"

I reply, "Amanda would not get me my library
book from my room!"

"Are you serious? She's not your slave, she's
your sister." Mom yells.

"I wish she was never born, I exclaim, I
hate her!"

Amanda says nothing but sniffles and cries.
I have no remorse and walk out of the room
toward my bedroom.

At this point, I am a teenager when my mom
makes an appointment with a psychiatrist,
Margaret Fletcher. I go to the appointments
twice a week. The initial visit is talking about
my unwanted sister and what transpired for the
last ten years of hate and despair over her
existence in the family.

I am diagnosed as possessive, obsessive
behavior with delusional jealousy.

Miss Fletcher informs me, "Jealousy is a
sensitive person who is inflicted with many
insecurities that can interfere with one's
health and well being due to anxiety and
tension. It has been created in your mind that
your sister is a threat to your home life
right from the beginning. It is so much
anguish on your whole being that you have to find
ways to survive. Your coping mechanism has to
find it's way even if it is unreasonable. It
has a overwhelming feeling of insecurity for the
potential loss of your parents dedication to
only you. Jealousy can make you make decisions
in life that you will regret your entire life.
It blinds you with thoughts that are self
inflicted and makes you look at the world
through distorted lenses."

The next day my mom came in for an appointment.
Miss Fletcher addressed her, "Ma'am, Samantha is
a very troubled young lady. She needs your extra
time and affection plus verbalization of how you
feel about her as your daughter. She is extremely
sensitive, lacks confidence, and self esteem
which is frustrating to the point of outbreaks of
anger and abuse."

Mom confesses of not being aware of her problems
with Samantha and begins to cry. She expresses
not being able to be a good mother to Samantha.

"Ma'am, here is a couple of good books on
parenting and conflicts that may help you,"
Miss Fletcher says.

Miss Fletcher reports her session with her
mom to me. I shed a few tears thinking
of my mom.

Miss Fletcher says, "Samantha, you have some
hard work to do this next year. Do you want
to get that monster out of your system and
have a healthy relationship with your sister
to promote your good health and well being?"

"I don't know if I'm capable," I answer.

"You have your parents and me to help PDQ,"
she advises me.

"You need to erase all the images of your
sister out of your head. You need to look at
her for the first time. It won't be easy. It
will take a lot of work but it will be
worthwhile. Get to know her. What does she
like and dislike. You will be surprised when
you find you have things in common. If you
have any negative thoughts, you replace it with
positive thoughts. It takes will power and
strength that I know you have. The ability to
do this is in your corner. You will feel
better," Miss Fletcher instructs.

"One more thing. Your parents love and think
the world of you as their daughter. Let them
show you."

"I will try," I say.

I go home with my mom. I look at my sister
and want to pull out my hair. At least it
wasn't her hair. I go to my room to scream.
Mom comes hurriedly in the room.

"What happened?" Mom asks.

"I stepped on a tack," I lie.

"Let me take a look,"

"It's okay," I answer.

Mom leaves the room. I precede to my closet to
get my backpack and fix the bed to look like I
was in it. I go to the kitchen and pack a
few sandwiches, a couple apples, a water, a blanket,
toiletries and some clothing. I look out the
room for anyone, then sneak out the back door.

My bike was leaned up against the house and I
quickly hop onto it and take off. The
tension, anxiety and demands are too much
to handle. I ride to the park, find a tree-
like bush with large leaves and hide laying
myself on the blanket. The crickets are chirping.
Looking up at the stars, I feel free and safe.
I close my eyes and fall asleep.

The next morning Mom calls Miss Fletcher.
"Miss Fletcher, we are unable to locate the
whereabouts of Samantha. She didn't come home
last night. I am worried sick."

Miss Fletcher replies, "Apparently, Samantha
was unable to cope and handle the situation at
home. She was so accustomed to her behavior
that it was impossible for her to change so
she left your home to be able to breath. I am
sure she has processed her behavior toward
her sister and is trying to conquer her
feelings in regard to how she can treat her
sister in a civil manner. She will be home
soon."

"What do I do in the meantime, Mom asks. Do
I alert the authorities?"

"It would only complicate everything for her.
Just wait," Miss Fletcher answers.

Back at the park, I gather my things.
I gobble down a sandwich and drink some
water. I grab an apple for my pocket. I
pack my bike and head for the nearby
stables where I can visit Ash, the horse I've
been riding since Amanda was born.

I go to the office where I pay for an hour
and a half ride. Ash perks up his head when
he hears my voice. Ash is a Morgan horse
with gray hairs speckled all over his body.

"Hey, my sweet fellow," I speak with affection.
Let me freshen up in the rest room, Then, we
can go for a ride."

I return and hold up the apple as he munches eagerly,
core and all. I precede to pet his mane and look into his eyes.

I tell him everything that is going on with my sister.
He nods like he understood. I carefully
mount his back and stroke his hairy coat.
Tears flood my cheeks as I say, "I love you,
Ash."

I ride to the foot hills. Then, he
stops his gallop and lifts one foot up high
and then, stomps it on the ground. Stomping
his foot means the rider is wounded. Again,
tears fill my eyes. We continue our ride
as I hum, "Morning Has Broken." Back at the
stables, I lean forward and squeeze his neck
with all my might.

"Ash, you are my best friend in the whole wide world."

Ash repeatedly shakes his head. I climb off his back, kiss his
nose and he licks my lips. Then I leave.

I ride through the green fields with the wind
caressing my face. From a far distance I get a
glimpse of my mom sitting on the porch. I come to
the porch, climb off the bike and approach
my mom. She grabs me, passionately kissing me on
the lips, saying how much she was worried.

"I am so sorry, Mom," I cry.

We go into the house and I request to call
Miss Fletcher.

Mom says, "By all means, I am sure she is
expecting your call."

I dial the number. "Miss Fletcher, I am
capable of starting my relationship with my
sister. I will need everyone's help and
patience. You are right it will take a lot
of work but I will continue to try. I will
need to continue with sessions with you until I
am well."

Miss Fletcher responds, "You are a brave soul,
Samantha."

After I say goodbye, I ask, "Mom, where is
Amanda?"

"She is sitting outside on the glider reading her
book," Mom replies.

I stop at the mirror in the hallway to check
myself out. I am relieved not to see the green
eyes.

I slowly go outdoors and greet Amanda. I sit
beside her and ask what she is reading. Amanda
replies, "The Secret Garden."

"I am surprised because I read it three or four
times since it was one of my favorite books."

"For real?" Amanda's eyes light up.

"For real!" I reply.

I pull Amanda close, trembling and sobbing.
"I am so sorry I hurt you, please find it inside
your heart to forgive me," I plead.

Amanda pauses for a moment before she looks
into Samantha's tearful eyes. "Does this
mean we can be friends?" Amanda asks.

I hesitate briefly. Then, I replied
almost in a whisper," I will try."

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