"Soul Sisters"
Erica was in her room, doing homework. Alisha was in the garage,
practicing her instrument. Things were normal in the Fox household,
which was why it was so dangerous. Usually the siblings argued and
fought, and it was usually Alisha doing the bullying. Actually, she had
just weathered a nasty spat with her sister not long ago, and sent
herself to cool off in the garage. She bore a grudge and a bass guitar,
but only knew how to handle one. Erica was almost too angry to study,
but the pile before her gave her no choice. It was either work or fail,
so her annoyance could wait.
They were like that, those two. Theirs was a mysterious relationship
even as sisters went: spiteful and arrogant, rowdy and thunderous, push
and shove. The two were complete opposites when it came to personality,
Erica more meek and Alisha the aggressor, and both had different views
on women and matters of the heart—one a careless player of the game, the
other shy and unsure. But they loved each other, as only sisters could,
although Alisha bore Erica's quirks much easier than her younger sibling
did. Perhaps because, for as long as she could remember, Alisha had been
deeply in love with the other girl.
Yes, that was her dark secret, perhaps the only barrier to her
happiness. If she could've only realized such a relationship was
impossible, even dangerous, then she would've went on and lived a very
happy life, and might have even turned into a different person. But the
Fox sisters were very stubborn people, Alisha especially, and she would
not have given up her love for anything. Erica did not know about this,
or if she did, she only heard tidbits, muttered from Alisha's mouth on
occasion, and these were usually taken as bad jokes. Alisha would flirt,
Erica would get mad, and the two would trade barbs.
Erica never saw the hurt on her sister's face when she said No.
It hadn't been that matter which separated them on that particular cold
January day—Erica hadn't yet realized how badly her sister pined for
her—no, it was just another one of their things, started when Alisha
teased her sister and ending up with the two spewing fire at each other
(hence the isolation). Alisha hated that Erica couldn't relax, chill
out, and not take things so seriously; Erica wished her sister was nicer
to her, and wondered when she would ever receive any of that "love" she
spoke about so openly.
Eventually the day became too cold to play in the garage, so Alisha came
in, feeling calmer, and sought out her sister for a pax. No matter how
hard, how long, or how many times the two fought, they always somehow
made up and tried to get things back to normal—usually adding in a
special service along the way. And since Alisha usually started the
fiascos (unintentionally), she was usually the one to first ask for
peace, and thus the one to give a service. Perhaps in her subconscious,
Alisha wanted to express love for her sister through these services—pick
up groceries, rub her foot, wash her hair, do her laundry—and so started
the fights.
Also, Erica looked unfathomably adorable when she was mad.
......
One day, Alisha was in a very indecisive mood. Her girlfriend of about
two weeks had just broken up with her, which was bad, but she was free
to swing again, which was good. As always when she found herself a
single, Alisha wanted to gravitate towards Erica: hug her, kiss her
face, address her affectionately, be nice, go to her for support, that
sort of thing. Maybe throw in a flirt, a peck on the lips—and perhaps
that would be the day she Told her. Erica, I'm in love with you. I want
to start a romantic relationship with you. I want to be your lover. But
of course she couldn't.
"Why?" she whispered to herself as she drove home. "Why can't I? Because
she never believes me, or I think she'd be disgusted? I know her
reaction: she'd do one of the two I mentioned, or something else. I know
she won't like the idea. So maybe that's why I won't do it, because I
know I'll be rejected." And of course, being turned down by the one
person she truly loved, more than anything else, was something she
wanted to avoid. And Erica would never look at her the same way.
She got home, and parked. She went inside and found her sister already
there, since she took the bus ("Hmm, she never accepts my offer to drive
her home. If that's not a sign..."). Erica was lost in a book, her hand
buried in a bowl of popcorn, her feet bare and pointing down as she
reclined on the floor. Alisha desperately wanted to snuggle with
her...and pin her down...and make sweet love to this wonderful
creation...
"Wassup, soul sister?" she asked playfully. Erica looked up and waved
silently, then back to the book. Alisha grinned, knelt by the younger
girl, and tickled her feet. Poor Erica laughed and jerked them away, her
face angry.
"Stop," she snorted. Alisha beamed.
"Tickle tickle! So what'cha readin'?"
"Stranger in a Strange Land."
"Ugh, I hate that book."
"Yeah, me too. Want some popcorn?"
"I'd love some." She dove her hand in and took a generous portion, and
since Erica didn't protest to her second and third helpings, she assumed
she was willing to share. Alisha flopped down as well, munching idly
while studying the younger lass. Now of course there were prettier girls
in Stanton than Erica, but nobody—nobody—could endure Alisha's faults
and shortcomings for so long, so patiently, and still forgive her and
love her in the end. Erica was dear, a sweetheart, a pure jewel; she
deserved the very best. Maybe that was why Alisha could never tell her,
because frankly, she could never measure up.
"What?" said Erica harmlessly, noticing her sister staring. Alisha
traced her hair from her face.
"Just looking at my gorgeous sister."
"...Oh." And back to the book. Erica was two years and two inches
shorter than Alisha, but not quite as skinny; she had an attractive
little bit of flesh on her body, whereas poor Alisha was almost thin
enough to be broken with every hug (though 120 pounds was not really
bad). Like her sister, Erica had eyes of blue and gray, sort of like
steel or water or clouds during the winter, and her long, curly copper
hair, tied in two braids and reaching a bit past her shoulders, had
caught enough eyes in its time (Alisha dyed her red hair black, with
blue stripes). She had ordinary clothes, but her realism was gorgeous,
as if she was unaffected by trends and fashion. She was her own self,
nobody else.
Alisha leaned forward to kiss this beauty on the cheek. Erica let out a
miniature smile, which was a sign that she was in a good mood, and
batted the girl away.
"Stop," she squeaked. Alisha giggled and licked her sister's face. Her
reaction was worth it: "Eww, gross! Did you just lick me?!"
"What? Haven't you ever been licked by a girl?"
"Not by my sister! That's disgusting!"
"Oh shut up, you...prude. I'm just teasing again." Erica ran to get a
cloth and grinded it against her skin.
"God," she growled, "don't do that again, okay? It's gross."
"Are you serious? I love getting licked by my girlfriends."
"Yeah, but I'm not your girlfriend!"
"You could be."
"That's sick." Alisha giggled and scooted closer until their bodies were
touching. She put her arm around her sister, spanning the girl's whole
back, and gave her a big wet kiss on the face.
"I luv you," she teased. Erica wrestled her off and spilled the popcorn.
She swore, which was rare, and picked it up angrily. Alisha laughed and
helped her, then decided, out of the blue, to reveal everything. She
didn't know why, she just did. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
"Erica, I really do love you."
"Oh, be quiet."
"I'm serious. I'm in love with you."
"Stop." Erica glared coldly and finished picking the kernels up. They
were all thrown away, along (perhaps) with her sister's heart. She
clutched the younger girl's hand and gave her the most serious face she
could. Their stormy-sea eyes met.
"I really mean it, you know. I've been in love with you forever."
"Don't."
"Erica, I love you."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do! More than you can imagine!"
"Then why are you so mean to me?"
"I just like teasing you!" she shouted.
"Well stop! I hate it!" She turned round and stormed off, Alisha on her
heels.
"Erica, I'm sorry, it... I really love you, I really do!"
"Get bent!" she retorted. She darted into her room, SLAM! Click. Alisha
was locked out. She knocked on the door.
"Erica, open up."
"Go away."
"Erica, I mean it. Come on."
"Go away." A pause. A sigh. Alisha felt she had made things go from bad
to worse in an instant. Why was her relationship with her sister so
frail? Couldn't Erica for once just loosen up? Why couldn't she take a
joke?
Maybe because you've done nothing but joke for the last sixteen years.
...Yeah, maybe.
"Erica. ...Erica, listen. I'm in love with you. I really am. I know you
don't like that, and I know you hate me, but I can't help it. I've been
in love with you all my life. Damn it, I must sound so stupid, like a
love-starved kid trying to talk to his first girlfriend! I just...want
to be with you, is all. I'm stupid and I'm selfish, but only because of
you. ...Okay, maybe that wasn't what I meant. I mean...maybe all the
things I do... Shit."
She sighed. This was harder than the movies and TV let on.
"I'm...attracted to you romantically," she managed, not wanting to be
misinterpreted. "I'm in love with you. You're the first girl I fell in
love with, and...I know people say it's wrong to feel that way about
your family, so I guess...that means...I'm just one fucked-up puppy,
aren't I? Well this fucked-up puppy loves you, Ricky, and I can't help
it! You...are so...fucking sweet and wonderful to me!"
Tears. She was crying now.
"And you're so...fucking tolerant of me. No matter what I do, you
eventually forgive me, and we go back to normal, then I fuck things up.
God...you must really hate me. I must really ruin your whole life. I bet
you say to yourself all the time, ‘Gee, I wish Alisha had never been
born! Then I would've had a much better life.' Well... Fuck, Erica,
don't say it's not true. I mean...fuck...I'm such a shit-head. All I do
is mess your life up. And all you do is forgive me and try to live. And
I fucked up real bad on New Year's, didn't I, with you and Joss and
everything. I mean...shit. I don't know how the hell to go about this.
I'm just saying whatever passes to mind. You probably didn't hear a word
I said. I just wanted to tell you—oh, I needed to tell you, that I love
you, and I'm sorry for fucking up your life, cuz' you don't deserve it.
I'll never be good enough for you, so why the fuck do I even bother?"
And she stormed off, to her room. Erica didn't open her door. But she
had heard.
She had heard everything.
......
Alisha undressed for bed, wearing only a tee and panties, and crawled
beneath her covers, shivering with cold and misery. Well, she had done
it, and in a way was glad to have done it, but mostly hated herself. She
was right, she knew: from day one she had caused her sister nothing but
grief. She loved the girl, loved her with everything she had, and yet
had done nothing but give her misery, make her more irritated, and
pushed them apart, until this last act drove a permanent wedge between
them. No matter. In about a year, Alisha would be off in some college,
and Erica would never have to see her again.
Her bed shifted mysteriously, and she felt the presence of another. She
had not been able to see her visitor in the dark, but knew it to be
Erica: she recognized that scent. She turned and murmured—"Whuh?"—but
was silenced as the unbelievable happened, Erica sealing her mouth
closed with two priceless lips. The kiss lingered, staying far longer
than any other had before it, so long that Alisha wept and felt
butterflies; she felt moist, excited, thrilled, and could drink deep
from her sister; she could truly taste the flower she had so yearned
for. But why?
"No, don't," she managed as Erica released her. "Please don't do this,
Ricky, don't."
"Alisha..."
"No, don't. Go away, please. I can't."
"Alisha."
"Please don't." She wept, knowing just why her sister did this, kiss
after kiss. Erica was sorry. Erica wanted to make Alisha happy. She
wanted to erase the tears, mend her heart, heal her wounds—but not love
her, not truly be in love with her. Now Alisha sobbed, "Don't, please.
Please don't do this just to make me happy, please. I can't stand it."
"Ssh," hissed her sister, enveloping her lips again. Alisha thought it
was a dream until she felt Erica's fingers tickle her meekly, and her
probing pink tongue seek entrance, and her heaving chest and belly
smoldering with real heat. Her head swam—a dream it could still be!—but
illusion crashed as Erica embraced her tongue, and the two wet muscles
matched and danced together in the cold darkness. Alisha had to force
herself to push Erica off. After all...
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" She shuddered as her sister asked
her that. She sat helpless as Erica took off her shirt, revealing shy
breasts, and removed her sister's own. Conflict, the face of Janus,
fogged Alisha's mind. To grope or not to grope, that was the question!
Whether it would be nobler to simply take her sister into her heart, as
she wished, knowing that this path would lead to deeper heartbreak for
them both; or, by chance, avoid all of life's slings and arrows, and see
the truth of Erica's love, even though Alisha knew it was not there.
Masochistic as ever, she chose the first path. She damned herself. But
she was happy. And Erica was...everything. Everything and more, more
than she could've imagined. The words I love you did escape her lips
from time to time—tears came more freely, though—as they made love again
and again that evening. Alisha Fox decided to wait until morning before
getting some answers, because perhaps she felt she had done something
right to deserve this little bit of happiness.
......
It was very pleasant to wake up naked in her sister's arms, believing
she could do no wrong, the light of a weary sun peeking through snowy
clouds and a frost gathering on the window. And Alisha felt so good too,
and smelled it, and tasted it, and looked stunning as she slept, her
face mired in happiness. Erica had never recalled seeing her older
sister so pure with delight, and sighed softly as her fingers parted the
blackish-blue strands from her face. She released her grasp slightly,
wincing in pleasure as their nipples brushed together—oh! What a wild
night that had been!
"...Morning," said Alisha softly as she woke, her face naught but a few
inches from Erica's. She giggled as the two rubbed noses and kissed, and
stretched mightily, like a lioness. Erica caught herself actually
staring at her own sister's exposed breasts, and looked away. Alisha
groaned, sighed, and smiled. "I can't believe I had sex with my own
sister."
"Believe it, sweetheart," said Erica, touching the girl's nose. Alisha's
dimples deepened with her smile. She took the girl's finger in her mouth
and suckled, then went down—very down—for an "early morning treat".
Erica was helpless and loved it. Her own sister had her face buried in
her vagina! It seemed so unreal and disturbing, but it gave her an
otherworldly orgasm, and an afterglow to die for.
"Oh, wow!" she exclaimed as her naked sister slithered back up her body.
Alisha chuckled and kissed her nose. "That was unreal! God...where'd you
learn to do that?"
"Uh...no comment!" They giggled and kissed, then smiled, and kissed
deeper, like lovers. Their tongues met and embraced lovingly in spite of
the raw morning breath they both had. Alisha ended quickly, pulling back
with a smile, and touched her sister's face, too happy to bear it. "Can
I ask a question?"
"Sure."
"Why'd you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Go into my room like that and..."
"Uh...seduce you?" The two giggled and kissed again; Alisha looked
awfully beautiful that morning. And sexy.
God, I just had naughty thoughts about my big sister!
"Well," she said gently, "you're not the only Fox girl who loves her
sister very much."
"Yeah, but I love you in a romantic sense."
"And what's wrong with sisterly love?"
"Nothing. Except...I don't really think you...love me like that."
"There's too many definitions of love in the world," remarked Erica. She
willingly cuddled into Alisha's arms and sighed, splaying her breath on
the older girl's skin. "The love of one friend for another, the love for
a pet, the love for an inanimate object, the love of siblings, the love
of lovers..."
"I know. Which do you feel for me?" Erica didn't answer at first. She
turned her head to kiss what skin she could.
"I just...love you."
"Why?"
"Because sometimes you can be very good," she whispered, "and sometimes
you can be so right, and so much better than me. And when that happens,
I can't help but love you."
"Sounds like sisterly love to me."
"It is."
"So you don't love me." Again, a silence.
"There's a thin razor line between our sorority love and the romantic
love that we shared last night. I think you just like to cross it more
than I do."
"So you're not attracted to me."
"I don't know," sighed the younger. She snuggled very close and placed
her hand over her sister's heart. "I'm just very comfortable here, and I
love this feeling. And if you asked me, I wouldn't mind making love to
you again at all. Or taking a shower together."
"Which we ought to do," remarked Alisha, "seeing as how it's a school
day."
"Yeah... Shoot." Sigh. The clock moved ahead a minute.
"Erica?"
"Mm."
"You're still in love with Jocelyn, aren't you?"
"...Mm." Alisha smiled.
"Hey, I don't mind. You're in love with your best friend, I'm in love
with my sister. Two great big romantic no-nos. Well, that's the Fox
sisters for ya!" They both laughed, and after some struggle, finally got
out of bed and crammed themselves into a shower.
Underneath a wet waterfall, Alisha promised she'd do her best to show
Erica more love.
Erica, for her part, said she'd try and loosen up and take life less
seriously.
Whether or not they would remain as lovers, or simply go back into the
game of love with spirits renewed and a deeper understanding of each
other, well...tomorrow never knows.
Turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream
It is not dying, it is not dying
Lay down all thoughts, surrender to the void
It is shining, it is shining
Yet you may see the meaning of within
It is being, it is being
Love is all and love is everyone
It is knowing, it is knowing
And ignorance and hate mourn the dead
It is believing, it is believing
But listen to the color of your dreams
It is not leaving, it is not leaving
Or play the game "Existence" to the end
Of the beginning, of the beginning
Of the beginning, of the beginning
Of the beginning, of the beginning
Of the beginning...
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