Amethyst's sister Joy Emma James takes the mic.
|Chapter Two - Joy
I’ve been reading lately about miscellaneous topics. Some of the symptoms point towards depression, others to conditions I’ve never heard of. Before we know it, Amethyst will be a thing of the past. We’ll all forget about her mere existence.
Oh gosh, you should probably know who I am before I continue babbling on like a baboon. I’m one of Amethyst’s sisters. Actually, I’m her closest in age - Joy Emma James. I’m of eleven years.
I am the eldest of out humble set of triplets, which consists of my two brothers, Kainen and Christopher, and myself. They’re psychos. Kainen and Christopher are nothing like Amethyst. All they ever do is scream, run around, and play video games. However, over the years, I have learned how to effectively deal with the two of them. The key is money and pride. The key to stoking their egos: building them each up like a skyscraper and then taking a sledgehammer to the top.
The money aspect has always been a biggie in my household and I believe I am following Tristan’s example when I say that I’ll do anything for money. But unlike my brother, I have a good reason for saving. Someday I am going to travel the world with my best friend Angela. She was born in Italy. She has wanted to visit her homeland since we studied the Renaissance in school.
But enough about Angela. Enough about me - Joy Emma James. This is an account about my sister Amethyst James. Amethyst isn’t a normal teenager. I’m an avid reader, a social butterfly, and full of self-knowledge so I can understand which behaviors are average and which call for attention. Amethyst is an interesting case. I am not exactly proud to call her my sister, but neither am I ashamed to claim her as part of the family. My brother Tristan usually tells people, “I’ve got two sisters and two brothers. Sorry, I mean three sisters. One’s a mental case.” Amethyst is not mental. She is a living breathing human being. She may be different, but she’s not insane.
Compared to Amethyst’s entry before, mine is supposed to seem joyful. You might assume that from my name. I am more joyful than my sister is. She’s all hung-over about Xylina. I’ve moved on. I am not over it, but I’ve moved on. I have not sunk into the evil pit of depression, resorted to silence, or denied myself the basic necessities of life. I am Joy James for Pete’s sake! I’m Joy. And Joy is a very powerful thing.
All that is a lie. Well, at least for the most part. My outer façade is Joy. But inside me, inside the world of Joy, there lays a deep swamp, a dark swamp to be avoided. How I wish I could show my true colors! Be myself! Everyday I wake up and stare myself in my blue-grey eyes and say, “Joy, today you are going to be yourself. Rebel! Show your parents that their baby isn’t who they think she is.” But I cannot. I am a coward to be a coward. Isn’t that sad? My name should have been “Fear”. That is what I am - Fear. Fear of the world. Fear of my family. Fear to lose my family. Fear to admit my deepest darkest secrets to myself. Amethyst is the brave one.
I may be Joy, but I am Fear.