The early morning light is blinding, and my eyes are bloodshot as I lift them to the bathroom mirror. That swirling feeling comes again with kick after kick inside my stomach from my guilty conscience. Another wave ejects from me, and I twist the tap to dilute the mess I made. Even the fastest setting and coldest water struggles, leaving yellow and brown covering the porcelain until I splash it around with one hand.
What the fuck were you thinking?I grill myself in the silence I’m so familiar with.
I should never have touched her like that.
It was so wrong.
Mom would be disappointed. Dad would be fuming, out for blood, even.
I haven’t slept all night, too many thoughts running through my head.
She’s your sister.
It’s a real shame my mind didn’t mention that all those thoughts hours ago, before I insisted Dollie fall asleep on me. Before that, when I slid my fingers inside her, and threw away my big brother title. Before I told her how much I wanted her.
With actual fucking words.
All the fears that kept me quiet for two-thirds of my life were vacated from my mind in that moment, my morals gone, too. A new voice was talking, telling me that she needs to know how I feel.
That it would change everything.
That we could be happy.
And yet, all I feel right now is guilt.
The shit that goes on in my head would be hard to explain to anyone. Even I don’t understand how a silent threat on Dollie’s life, from a demented part of my past, has kept me quiet for close to nineteen years, only to evaporate into history because lust took over.
Unbelievable.
But it was nice to have my brain on my side for once.
There were no screams of Dollie being hurt, no fear of someone breaking in and murdering her in front of me.
God, that would never even fucking happen.
I itch just thinking about it, the skin on one hand turning red below my nails. Beads of blood prickle at the surface of my skin as I think of the cries that have echoed too loudly in my mind, of her crying while being raped in the next room.
None of it happened last night when I opened my mouth.
I talked, and she was still safe.
A sigh of relief comes, then a hiccup that tastes like those potatoes.
Leaning in toward the water, I tilt my head and let it run down my throat, washing away the taste of vomit as I gargle and then spit.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Her scent is long gone, and yet somehow, it lingers on my fingers, intoxicating me. I feel myself harden, and the guilt creeps back.
She’s your fucking sister.
The scent of roses and chocolate, with a little hint of popcorn, drifts into the bathroom.
Goosebumps creep up my arms, and that thought slips away.
I need Dollie…in every way.
I turn too fast for my bad leg to handle, stumbling a little.
The giddy feeling inside me is present for two reasons, one of them—excitement—disappearing instantly when I see her.
