4. Royal Crypt

I always felt closer to my other caregiver, Emerson, even though they didn’t shower me with toys and clothes. Instead, we bonded over how Drew would bully the both of us into doing their bidding. Emerson was someone who helped serve as a source of comfort in our small household, and for the most part, played the “good-cop” in their dysfunctional duo. If I wasn’t able to hear their comforting voice, I would steal one of their shirts and rub my face into it to feel their presence embedded in its well-worn smell. Being an only child, I felt that Emerson was the only other person in my small world that saw the reality of my daily life. Their kindness made me feel seen, most of the time. Though I was happy and grateful that Emerson deeply related to each other since we had such similar temperaments, in my head, I still put them on a level that was above me. They were the adult, with all the answers to life and my homework, while I was some snotty little kid clinging to them like some wild baby cub. While Drew did all the unfun things of caregiving, like chewing my food and then spitting it out into a spoon to feed me as a toddler, Emerson could ramble on and on at the dinner table, whether it be about physics, politics, or a silly jab pointed at Drew.

I was certainly Emerson’s little princess, the damsel in distress that could be satiated, unlike Drew. When my Emerson asked me who I loved more, I thought for a moment, then gave the answer, “I love you both equally!” Emerson was impressed with how clever and diplomatic I was with my words at such a young age. I just wanted my caregivers to get along a little better at home.

Even though Emerson was our only bread-winner, Drew made sure Emerson had their fair share of household duties to fulfill once they got home from their demanding job. The biggest responsibility was ensuring that I got good grades at school. Emerson would have to do MY homework till the sun came up. Drew insisted that Emerson check all of my math homework and tutor me if they had better methods of solving problems. If I wasn’t doing well in school, it was because Emerson failed at tutoring me. Science fair projects were Emerson’s responsibility too since their background in physics would allow me to have the most brilliant scientific findings to present compared to my classmates, who were definitely my competition for teacher’s pet.

One activity that Emerson and I loved to do together if we weren’t talking shit about Drew was playing video games. Emerson was a huge fan of a particular franchise that involved a protagonist saving a princess, so naturally, I got invested in the series as well. Since Emerson was my savior, my knight in shining armor that protected me from wretched Drew, I would often run to them, red DS in hand, asking them to fight boss battles for me in each dungeon. Something about the giant monster’s menacing, misaligned eyes as it pranced around the tiny screen told me this was something Emerson could handle, just like all of my homework. Drew was disappointed that I played video games instead of voraciously reading books like them when they were a child. I wasn’t living up to the middle name Drew selected for me.

I would spend hours sucked into this fantasy land, daydreaming how one day, a knight in shining armor that could somehow live up to Emerson’s legacy would save me and make me whole again. Lost in the bright pixels of the TV screen, I could be the hero that saved the princess and also the princess who was finally saved and found salvation. It gave me pleasure to possess fictional characters in a fantasy land when I was so out of touch with myself in reality.

I often wondered why Emerson let me rely on them for so long, even though I knew it was draining them. Looking back, I think it was because for them, by keeping me happy and satisfied, it was a way to compensate for the fact that they couldn’t keep Drew fulfilled. Maybe they were also doing it to apologize for letting me come into the world with Drew as a caregiver. Emerson would often get snappy and quick-tempered if they were in the presence of Drew. They were tired of hearing that they failed in life because they couldn’t work themselves into a managerial position at the many tech companies they were employed at, or because I got a B on another exam.

But at least Emerson and I had each other. Jokes about Drew never stopped, and I would merrily chuckle along, happy that I had this connection with them. Our mutual disdain for Drew brought us closer than ever. Though Drew may be too dumb to understand humor, at least I could keep up. I was their special girl. I was determined to not be like Drew, so helpless and reliant on Emerson, yet so deeply ungrateful and bitter that Emerson resented them. I didn’t want my future knight in shining armor to resent me too.

Whenever Emerson got overwhelmed by Drew’s endless screaming demands, I’d hear a bang, or a smash downstairs as I lay still in the darkness of my bedroom, trying to catch up on sleep. That would shut up Drew. It’s okay, I’d tell myself. Emerson’s going through a lot, plus they must’ve been really sleep deprived trying to keep Drew satisfied. I was going crazy too, so imagine what it must be like for Emerson with a full-time job that kept them so late that they’d often miss our 9pm dinner time. Emerson’s a good person. They didn’t behave like that towards me or anyone else, usually, because they were an upstanding contributor in our community. Everyone that became acquainted with Emerson was in awe of their voracious intellect and thoughtful disposition. I knew Emerson loved me. Sometimes, I’d slam my bedroom door out of frustration, or dash a plate across our kitchen floor too. That would usually do the trick. Back in those days, I was a ticking time-bomb of fury, though guilt and self-hatred would consume me after each of my heinous acts. Once, when I was ashamed of myself after doing what I did, I begged Emerson to spank me, HARD. They kept repeating that they really didn’t want to hit me, and I didn’t know what I wanted since I was just a kid. When they finally acquiesced to my demands, SMACK!!! The ringing wouldn’t stop in my bedroom. I got mad at them for betraying me, despite my initial decrees. I scrutinized Emerson closely as guilt washed over their face through my bleary eyes.

Emerson often raised their concerns to Drew that I was missing out on my childhood and important life lessons on learning to cope with failure. My creativity and development were getting stunted. And though I wanted to be the best student I could, I simply couldn’t be that for Emerson. All the explanations, convoluted proofs and solutions that Emerson offered to me flew right over my little head. I loved Emerson so much, but in each of our tutoring sessions, I was reminded of just how far the gap was between my mind and theirs. I just couldn’t connect with them in an intellectual capacity, which frustrated me deeply, because Emerson was the only person in the world that I wanted, no, I NEEDED to connect with if I were to stay sane. Emerson felt disheartened that I followed my teacher’s solutions to math problems to the T instead of trying to follow their superior methods. Though I might’ve appreciated their genius more fully in another timeline, in the current one I was too preoccupied with not getting caught for cheating. I didn’t want to be humiliated in front of my classmates by my teachers again. If we were going to have me cheat on my homework, we needed it to be believable that a little girl came up with those answers. My connection with Emerson would need to go on the backburner if I wanted to save my ass at school. Once, Emerson got so frustrated that I was sick of copying their work and not appreciating their creative intellect that they threw a slipper at me. I quickly dodged towards my right and ran away as it whizzed past my head. Emerson apologized profusely to me afterwards and did the rest of my homework for me as an apology as I stared back at them in shock. That was the last time Emerson ever laid a finger on me.

Sometimes, I would have a flash of self-righteous indignation and bring up Emerson’s perspective to Drew, but Drew was quick to retaliate.

“Don’t you see what Emerson is suggesting? They want you to FAIL. Is that what you want for yourself!?!”

That would quickly dismantle me from my moral high-horse. Whenever these discussions came up in our household, porcelain would go flying and holes would appear on our walls.

One day, after I had gotten a C on a history exam, like many times before, Drew took it out on Emerson. I felt helpless, unable to perform good enough so that Emerson would be spared from Drew’s verbally abusive tirades.

“The reason that she didn’t do that well on her exam is because YOU didn’t help her. WHY CAN’T YOU TUTOR PROPERLY?!? Now, her future tests are going to carry more weight if we want to ensure she doesn’t get a B! WE ARE GONNA WORK EVEN HARDER BEFORE THE NEXT EXAM!!!!!” Drew was quickly spiraling again, always in crises, but never a quitter.

"If we’re SERIOUSLY fighting this badly over a child’s elementary school exam, we honestly should get divorced! I can’t take this anymore!!!”

“You’d leave me, a helpless immigrant in a foreign country, all on my own, and abandon your family? You’re SICK! You don’t understand that true familial responsibility requires SACRIFICE!!!”

I quickly took Emerson’s side, praying that a divorce would help them take me away from Drew. Usually children of dissociating caregivers fight to keep the family together, yet here I was, hoping they would split up. Emerson eventually gave up on the idea when they realized how hard it would be to get full custody of me in court.

“Drew’s right. I don’t know how I’d be able to look after you by myself with my full-time job. Plus, having two caregivers is still probably better for your development. If it helps, I’ve given up on thinking about Drew as a normal person you can reason with. You need to let it go when it comes to them.”

Emerson really was the ultimate martyr, a saint in the flesh. They would sacrifice their life to sustain the tyrant and its captive princess, even if it made them less of the person that they were. If I wanted to be at their level of holiness, I needed to be a martyr too; so horribly dominated that it was comical.

After this episode blew over, Drew didn’t let it go for a couple of weeks.

“You’re a monster, you know. Wishing for your caregivers to get divorced. I didn’t think a child could be such an evil creature.”

I stared blankly at the foggy glass separating me from Drew as they stormed out of the bathroom, water drops burning my back as I resumed my shower. If I didn’t exist, their marriage wouldn’t have been falling to pieces. I was the common denominator for all of their anger towards each other. Why did I have to get between my caregivers? Even if their love was war, at least they were committed to each other and understood what true loyalty meant. I was a traitor to both of them.

3. The Family Jewels

5. Primmadonna