Chapter 1 - Imposter Syndrome

Do you want to know what the definition of imposter syndrome is?

It’s me.

I’m the definition.

My name is Charlie Anne McCaffrey, and if you were to see me at school, or around town, let’s say at Johnny’s Ice Cream shop, you would think that I look like a totally normal girl. But you would be wrong because I’m not a totally normal girl.

Let me tell you a story, a story about a girl whose name is also Charlie. She goes to January High and likes to ride her bike to and from school, just like always. She likes to take the scenic route, the route that goes by the sea. That long and twisty road atop the cliffs that parents always warn their children about.

Sharp rocks at the bottom, they say.

One day, Charlie is riding her bike home from school, she’s had a good day. Nothing exceptional, but nothing bad happened either and she’s excited to get home. She feels a little droplet of water land on her hand, and she looks up, realizing that it’s about to rain.

And rain it does. It’s sudden, out of the blue, and lightning crackles across the sky echoed by thunderous booms across the ocean. It goes from a beautiful day, to pitch black dark all too quick.

That’s the day that Charlie disappears. No one in town can find her. They can’t find any sign of her, no bicycle, no clothes, no book bag, no nothing. She’s gone for three whole days. On the eve of the third day, her father, Jack goes down to the beach.

Is he really looking for her? Or is he just there to begin grieving? I’m not sure. Jack’s probably got a lot of thoughts in his head, because he’s actually a police officer. He’s supposed to be a protector of the town, and he can’t even protect his daughter.

But as it so often goes, the moment you stop looking is the moment you find it. Jack sees, in surprise, that his daughter has washed up on the shore. He races down the beach, collapsing at her side, and he fears the worst. Fears that she’s drowned.

But she’s breathing. The rise and fall of her chest is small. Her lips are chapped and broken, her skin sunburned and pale. She has bruises all over her body, but she’s breathing.

Jack is trembling so hard he can barely get his radio to work, and he’s so focused on his daughter that he almost doesn’t notice the other two bodies.

Almost.

You can perhaps imagine the surprise, imagine the confusion, when Jack looks up, and sees his daughter.

But it’s not his daughter, is it? 

Because he’s holding in his arms Charlie Anne McCaffrey. She’s wearing the same rock band t-shirt that she was wearing the day she left, when he hugged her and kissed her goodbye.

Yet even still, the girl on the beach has red hair, tanned skin. She’s naked, her body wrapped in seaweed and smeared with sand. 

The freckles on her shoulders, the birthmark on her left knee, it’s all the same.

She is identical to the girl in his arms.

And so is the other body behind her. 

Also naked, her body beginning to sink and become embedded in the sand, and she’s wrapped in a laurel of seafoam, her lips parted. She too is breathing.

Jack is so confused. He’s so scared, he’s so relieved that he found his daughter, but not just one. He found three Charlie Anne McCaffrey’s.

We are identical in every single way. Our freckles have the same pattern, our birthmark is in the same place. Our hair has that stupid cow lick in the back, and we even have the same scar on our eyebrow when nine-year-old Charlie wouldn’t put her seat belt on, and face planted into the center console.

Jack made a decision that day. He took his daughter to the hospital, but he knew that something was strange, knew that what he had found would not be understood. He looked upon us, and his heart and his mind waged a war.

A war that his heart ultimately won.

Because he could not look upon the face of his daughter and give her up. 

He crafted a story, one that people just barely believed but it was enough. He said that Charlie was a set of three identical twins, two of whom had been estranged, but when they heard Charlie was missing, they came to help find her and spend time with family. 

Ultimately, we “decided” to stay. To live with Jack and Charlie.

It’s been about three months since that day, and for the most part, everything has returned to a sense of normalcy. At least Jack says things seem back to normal.

I don’t exactly know what normal is. My very first memory is waking up on a beach, feeling the sand and water between my toes, the warmth of the sun on my cheeks. I have memories, but it’s like looking into a fog. Like I’m trying to remember someone else’s life.

Because I am.

The original Charlie, well, she got to keep the name Charlie. The second one, her name is Anne. That means I get to be Mick. Mick McCaffrey.

I guess that makes me Charlie the Third. Nice to meet you.