No One Noticed

I kept trying. Trying to be better. Trying to be noticed. But no one even cared about me. It was all my brother. Jack this Jack that. And what am I to them? Probably nothing. All my teachers don't even seem to realize that I am not my brother. It’s always “Oh your Jack’s sister” and all I want to do is scream and yell at them that I am my own person. Maybe I can't be perfect, but at least I try. Though I have to try to be different, I am tired of living in my brother's footsteps. He apparently just has this charm that makes everyone like him. There's nothing even good about him. It's almost like he's created this gate that I can't escape. It keeps me trapped so that I can't exceed him or be better than him. I want to be better. Smarter. Finally acknowledged for once. But no matter how hard I try, only my brother gets noticed and praised. 

I am in ninth grade and I have tried so many new things to try and finally be seen. For one, I have done volleyball for nearly all my life and I am the best on my team, but none of my family even goes to my games or compliments me on how I do. But with my brother and his piano recitals “That was amazing!”, “You should really consider going to a music school, you might get a scholarship to an amazing school. Like Carnegie Mellon or maybe even Stanford.”

Instead of looking up to my brother by choice, I just live in his shadows. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I somehow managed to escape it. Would I be noticed? Or would it just be more freeing and make me even more unnoticed than I was before. I wish people would recognize me for who I am, not because my brother is some awesome super talented prodigy. 

Finally I told my parents I wanted to try something new. I decided to try playing the violin, since my school just introduced a new orchestra class. I tried it, got everything I needed and practiced for so long. At first I sounded like a dying rat but since I put in so much effort I started playing some of the hardest songs that my brother was playing on the piano. It took months. Finally my parents noticed and for once they complimented me. And they even put me in private lessons.

My parents started bragging about me to other families and I was finally the center of attention. I felt seen. Acknowledged. And maybe even a little heard. Or a lot heard, considering the violin. People started asking me to play, even asking if they could hire me. While I was thriving in the glory, practically swimming in it even my brother was crashing. He was so used to being the center and the perfect one and forcing me to follow in his footsteps. But I finally broke out. I couldn’t wait until he went off to college, because then I would finally get a fair shot and people would see me for who I am. My brother slowly fell apart. He looked worse too. Like he got no sleep almost. Each day, each week, he kept losing it. Whenever I would play he would scream at me to stop. Saying that I'm not even good and I should just quit now. I really didn't like seeing him all deranged and weird, but I liked being noticed and praised. 

Eventually he calmed, since he had to focus on his college admissions. No one really paid that much attention to him. Like they still talked to him and told him stuff but didn't overly praise him. All I knew about his college admissions was that he only applied to ivy leagues, so if he didn't get in he would be even more crushed. In the meantime he still focused, still got the best grades, was top student, and on track to be valedictorian. Meanwhile I got average grades, average student, but really good at volleyball. I was the best on the team and was already getting scouted. But I didn’t tell anyone anything about that since none of them even had the decency to show up to my games and support me. Sometimes I feel like they don't even know I play volleyball.

Admissions came in this week. All the ivy leagues. All eight. Now it was time for him to open them and see where he got admitted. Letter one- Columbia… waitlisted. He really wanted Columbia, but Stanford even more. “Three, two, one…” he called out. His face was red and dripping with sweat. You could tell he was stressed. He opened it. He got in! He didn't even want to open the rest of the letters. Rejected from Princeton and Harvard. Waitlisted to Yale, Upenn, Columbia, and Cornell. And admitted to Brown, Stanford, and Dartmouth. His obvious choice was Stanford. But this was terrible for me. How could I ever live up to getting into Stanford? I was just a normal average kid and he was some prodigy. I wouldn't ever be able to get into 3 ivy leagues. I don't even know what I want to major in. 

I was glad of one thing though, and it was that he was not being over glorified. It was the same amount as when I started getting recognized. I had my first concert coming up and I was so excited. I got to play my first ever piece with a whole audience. Of course I expected my family to come support me because they were telling me all these amazing things at home. But oh how naive I was to think that. They didn't show up for me. Instead they took my brother out to eat ice cream to celebrate getting into Stanford. I played flawlessly. The next rehearsal my teacher offered me a solo spot at the next concert. I was thrilled, filled with happiness. My face started to turn so red from excitement my teacher asked if I was okay. “Are you okay?” She asked, looking concerned and regretful, telling me, “Am I okay!” I responded with my voice so high and so loud. “OF COURSE I'M OKAY THIS IS WONDERFUL NEWS!” My teacher looked very very very concerned. 

“So have you given any thought as to what song you want to do?” She asked me with a tone that was strong but also way more calm and collected then I was the other day.

 “Yes” I responded, “I was considering doing the Four Seasons piece.” 

“Oh that song is lovely.” She replied all soft spoken now.

“Would you like an accompanist? Perhaps a piano or cello?” She questioned me.

“Actually yes, I was wondering if you would help to accompany me?” I tried to be as polite as I could.

“Of course! I would love to accompany you.” She responded.

The same week I was offered a solo, another college coach reached out about volleyball. I still didn't tell my parents.

The next week or so, I practiced so hard and played for so long I broke one of my strings. But that was an easy fix so I did that. And while I was playing, my brother wasn't even trying anymore. He figured since he already got into his dream school, he didn't have to try as hard. My parents didn't know so they didn't care. And Jack was planning to keep it that way. Until he failed his science test.  I remember him just brushing it off, “Oh it's gonna be so easy I don't need to study one bit.” I remember him saying it so cocky and like he was the best person ever. Well long story short my parents found out and yelled at him. 

The night of my solo concert finally arrived. The auditorium was packed. I’m talking filled to the brim. My teacher gave me a warm smile from the piano as I stepped onto the stage. I looked into the crowd one last time before I began.

Two empty seats.

The ones my parents promised they'd be sitting in.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and lifted my violin anyway. Every note I played carried every practice session, every volleyball game they never attended, every time someone called me "Jack's sister." By the time I reached the final note, the audience rose to their feet. The applause echoed through the auditorium, louder than anything I had ever heard. But somehow, it still wasn't the sound I'd been waiting for.

After the concert, people surrounded me, congratulating me and asking for pictures. My teacher hugged me, telling me how proud she was. I went home and found my parents talking to my brother about Stanford. Of course. The one night that I wanted them to actually be parents and show up they weren't there.

“You guys didn't come…” I whispered quietly.

“Look hun we’re sorry but we couldn't make it.” My mother lied right to my face. 

“You couldn't make it? You have been here all day doing absolutely nothing. You knew how much this meant to me, you let me get my hopes up. And for what? I don't know. You guys are the worst. I really needed you to be there and show up for me, but no, its always Jack”

I sulked up to my room and closed the door, careful not to slam it. My brother knocked. I softly said not now. I heard his footsteps pause before walking away. They didn't notice me. They just pretended to care about me more. All I wanted was for them to show up and be a part of my life. But they didn't even have the decency to do that. I tried so hard to escape my brother's shadow. I had finally stepped out of my brother's shadow. But the people I wanted beside me were still looking somewhere else.

I shed a few tears and then decided to pack away my violin. 

All I ever wanted was for my family to show up for me and support me. But I guess I don't need validation. All I really needed was to prove to myself that I only need to be myself. I'm not worse than Jack and I'm not better. I tried so hard to set a standard that I wouldn't even be able to reach. But now I understand. Maybe I was never meant to step out of my brother's shadow. Maybe I was just meant to stop chasing it.