Microsoft Word - Illicit Desires ePub.doc (11 page)

"How could you do this to me, Adrian? To me? To me of all people? You forgot who I

am to you? How could you do this?" I sounded hysterical even to my own ears.

I was in shock, my throat felt as dry as an abandoned desert; I couldn't believe that my

brother would hurt me this badly. I started hitting him with my hands on his chest, chanting,

'How could you? How could you?'
and crying my eyes out.

After a few moments he held my hands. "Stop! I deserve it, but you're hurting your

hands, I'm not worth it," he said. He let go of my hands when I calmed down a little.

"How many times? Tens? Hundreds?"

"Just one time. I swear, just one time."

I stared at him; a painful look was on his face, shame and guilt decorating his features.

"That doesn't make it any better."

"I know."

We stayed in silence for some time, not looking at each other, not hearing anything but

each other's sobs every now and then a sigh, a sniff, a deep breath—but no words.

"You know what the worst part is?" I asked, and he looked at me, his eyes red and

looking all miserable. "I lost my brother," I sobbed. "I'm hurt, and I can't even talk with

anyone."

"Lily—"

"You took my brother away from me, Adrian. I will never forgive you for this." I stood

up to leave, wiping some of my tears away with the back of my hand. I'd taken two steps to

the bathroom door when I felt his hand gripping mine, holding me in place. I looked at his

hand in mine then gave him a questioning look, and he released my hand right away.

"You didn't lose your brother, Lily. You never will; he's right here in front of you—

ready to give you his own soul if it would make you feel slightly better." He wiped his tears

with the back of his hand.

I gaped at him, considering what he had just said, my tears blinding me slightly, and my

heart aching …
for him.
He looked like he was in so much pain, so much suffering, but I

didn't find anything in me that I could offer… No assurances or even a fake promise that

everything was going to be okay. After all, I didn't think it would ever be okay.

"He is?" I asked.

"Yes!"

I locked eyes with him for a moment. "Brother?" I tried, and it was his turn to stare at

me for another moment.

"Yes, baby sis?" His voice cracked a little, but he tried his best.

"I'm … hurt."

"…Tell me what's wrong."

"I've been … abused? Molested? I don't even know the right term," I sobbed. And big

fat tears streamed down and out of my brother's eyes.

"I'm going to kill him!"

"You can't, brother," I said. "You can't kill him, because I love him so much. If you kill

him, you'll kill me." I shrugged one shoulder to express my helplessness.

"Oh, baby sis. He loves you too, so much, words can't even describe."

"If so, why would he do this to me? To … v—violate my body while I'm unconscious,

and take something that was never his?"

"He's sorry, I swear he's so sorry. He can never tell you how the guilt and shame and

regret are eating him alive! He's so fucking sorry … he couldn't control himself."

"I trusted him more than anyone in the world, brother. He was my everything, my best

friend, my safety… my wall." I chuckled slightly through my tears at the silly term I used to

describe how much he…
is
to me.

But it fit so well, you know when something really bad happens to you and you feel like

you're about to faint? And you're so grateful that there is a wall behind you that will not let

you fall? That will offer you all the support you need to stay on your feet? That was Adrian

to me – my wall. Whatever bad thing happened to me, I knew that Adrian would be there,

for support and safety … he took that away from me.

"Was?" He couldn't help the terror that was showing in his voice.

"He deceived me." I said, ignoring his question. "I feel like I can't trust anyone anymore.

I came to his room looking for
safety
, but he betrayed me instead. What should I do, brother?

I'm so hurt. I feel like there is no goodness in the world anymore.

"I'm even refusing and shrugging away my father's touch, my
own
father! Because he's

on the same level as
him
… or close to
his
level for that matter. I trusted my father too, just

like I trusted
him
, though I keep thinking that I might wake up someday and find my
father

doing this to me. Even though deep down inside me, I know that my father would never do

something like that to me.

"But then again that's what I thought about
him
, too." My voice cracked at the end.

All the time I was talking, Adrian seemed to be in massive pain, like someone was trying

to remove the skin from his body while he was still alive. It hurt me to see him that way.

"He won't touch you again, baby sis. I swear with God as my witness, he'll never lay a

finger on you again."

"He won't?"

"No. Right now, all he can ask for is your forgiveness. If he has to pay for the rest of his

life to gain your forgiveness he'll do it, just allow him to. Can you ever forgive him, baby sis?

Please tell me you can."

" … I will try, Brother."

He wept fat tears again. "Can he hug you? Please?"

I considered it for a moment. "No."

He squeezed his eyes shut with an excruciated look.

"But my brother can." I offered him a small, sad smile.

In a split second I was in his arms, and he was hugging me so tightly, almost causing

pain. But I didn't care; I missed him so much and I needed that, too. I needed my … safety.

"Oh, baby sis. He'll never risk losing you again, he'll never ever touch you again, I

promise." He buried his head in my hair.

I sighed into his chest. Little did I know that he wouldn't keep that promise for long.

Okay, that's not good! Not good at al .
I'd had enough of this shit and I really needed to tell her

something about it.

"Lily," I called.

"Hmm?!" She was searching for God only knows what in one of the kitchen bottom

drawers.

"Can I talk to you for a second, please?"

She looked up at me, sensing that something wasn't right just by my tone. "Yeah, sure."

She straightened up then came closer, waiting for me to say what I needed to say.

"Uh, can we go upstairs?" I didn't want to risk Mom overhearing what I wanted to say.

She gave me a confused look, thought about it for a moment, then went up the stairs

without replying to me. She choose going to her room.
Of course.

I followed her, and when I got to her room, I left the door open – just to be cautious–

then stood in front of her, not actually knowing how I was going to say this.

"What's wrong?"

"Uh – um, I – look … um."

"Is everything okay, Adrian?"

"Uh, yes … uh … everything is fine, it's just—"

"What is it?"

"Uh… Your, er, clothes …"

She looked down at herself, then back to me. I moved my eyes to her face quickly after

following hers to gape at those creamy long legs of hers that looked super-hot in those tiny

shorts. I cleared my throat, acting all innocent like I wasn't drooling over her legs or

anything.

"My clothes?"

I nodded, lowering my gaze to the floor, not able to make any eye contact with her.

"What about them?"

"They’re … uh, too … revealing."

"Adrian, they’re just shorts."

"Tiny ones … and the tank top is too tight, too."

"You do realize that I'm just staying home, right? I'm not going anywhere!"

"Actually, that's the problem." I used to fight with her all the time about the way she

dressed, before our
talk.
I used to tell her that it wasn't appropriate to go out like that…

Well, maybe I used the words 'whore' or 'slut,' too. Naturally, I didn't want guys to look at

her
that
way, and I assumed she was thinking that I was once again playing the protective big

brother, except trying to be polite about it. But the biggest reason was actually that I didn't

want to see her in clothes like that.

She just didn't get it! Since we'd talked two months ago, I'd been trying to be nice to her

as much as I could. I still didn't know if she'd ever forgive me for what I did to her, though.

Maybe by being nice I was trying to get her to forgive me or forget what I had done, but

at the same time I knew that there was no need now to instigate stupid arguments just to

push her away.

I had hurt her enough already. I could see how much she was trying to act as if nothing

had happened, but it was too much for her. I knew that. What happened was a crime that I

had committed against my sister, the one I loved the most, and it left a scar that I didn't

know it would ever heal.

Lily was trying her hardest to not do anything that might set me off. She was too strong;

she didn't curl into a ball and block the entire world from her mind – no, she was fighting it,

and she was trying to
heal
me.

We talked a lot about how I felt towards her, and she tried to figure out why I felt that

way. She asked me lots of questions and I tried my best to tell her the truth. She didn't cut

me out of her life as I thought she would. She said that she loved me and she couldn't bear a

life without me, and she knew that I loved her too.

So she was working on making our relationship go back to
normal
, the normal where I

didn’t lust after her – because it wasn't right. She said that she'd give me a chance, and that

she had to see me trying. If not, I would lose her forever.

I didn't want that.

Yeah, I felt guilty and all that shit, because what I did was wrong, I knew that, but the

look on my sister's face when she told me not to touch her…
God!
It will be buried in my

mind forever.

I didn't want to ever see her that way again: frightened and so broken. And knowing

that I did that myself… I couldn't even tell you how much it hurt. I thought that I had lost

her. It was a horrible feeling, you have no idea, and I'd never risk that again. Ever!

Lily had avoided being alone in the same room with me since
that day
, but with time she

became okay with it as long as the door stayed open. For sure my room was a big No. No.

She had never stepped a foot inside it since …
that day
. And she was also avoiding making

any contact with me, as in touching, not even a handshake – not like we ever used to do the

handshaking thing, of course.

With all the guilt and the fear of losing her, still – nothing worked. I was still lusting

after her… A lot. It was like I was cursed with some kind of spell. I couldn't fucking get her

out of my mind! What I did was horrible, and I regretted it. Again, the guilt was killing me

from the inside out, blah blah blah. But… I. Couldn't. Fucking. Help. It!

It was like her body was singing to me, calling my name, begging for me to worship it

the way it should be worshipped. The way
I
wanted it to be worshipped.