My name is Jackalina... my last name has been long forgotten... I did not always have the privileged life I now live. Truth is-I never had even seen a silk-let alone wore one as a girl. I grew up, on a nice life little farm with a nice little home-my mother and father-three brothers... sheep. I had a good life. I looked like my mother mostly, her straight brown hair-her green eyes... everything about me was of my mothers blood. I did gain my fathers way of running through the woods graceful and free-his tender touch. We lived on a hill, surrounded by trees and a river. We were envied because of this-by our neighbors-which were few. You see, in our society, neighbors lived almost a day away-so we had barely any contact-but ourselves. My memories range from the nights my father sat by the door, his rifle in hand-wolves howling...
My mother tending to my ill brother... who recovered as though an angel placed a hand on his brow.
My worst memory-however, was that of the day I was taken from the life I once knew.
The young girl knelt by the river-a woolen blanket over her shoulder. A slender dog lolled beside her, his bushy tail wagging slowly as his nose trailed the ground. She pulled up her skirts and dipped a toe into the crystalline water, letting loose a laugh at how chilled it was. Though it was a warm day and the sun shined brightly, the rolling waters were chilly. She slipped her dress over her thin shoulders and loosened her hair, so that it fell in bellows of brown over her back. She indeed was her mothers child, the gods above carved her body from the very word of beauty. She folded the garment and placed in on the rock, where the dog faithfully took its place atop it-smiling proudly. She then, with a shrill squeal, threw herself into the current.
Here, at the river-she could worry about not being bothered by her brothers... and clean herself at her leisure. She could wash her hair and let it dry in the sun. She could laze around, as long as the daily chores were done-they were. While she pulled herself-clean-from the river and lay nude on the rock-running a curry comb through her hair, the dog stood from its heated rock, stretched and headed back too the farm.
Split Personality Community Member 
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