Her breathing was frantic as confusion consumed her actions. Her hands raced the same pieces over and over. Her eyes was glazed with the pain that she endures. Though she tries to hide it underneath her long bangs, one of her eyes was lost and now cove red by a medical patch. Her wrists were bandaged thickly for reasons no one dare to ask. However, these injuries were not enough to spoil the beauty that she always had. But she had lost the thing that makes her whole.
“My song, I had to find my song,” her worried voice trembled. Her legs joined her search, kicking some papers here and there as if time was against her. Her rampant chase stopped when she turned to see a mirror in front of her. She was caught speechless by her own face staring back. Then she let out a small giggle.
“Silly me,” she proclaimed. Her tone sounded relieved but her broken smile did not agree. Her hand held the flat of the mirror as if trying to touch the person that she did not recognize anymore. “I forgot, I am not you anymore.”
Her words sounded cryptic for those who do not understand. When one stares in a mirror, they only see what their reflection shows. But this mirror was her refuge from her unforgiving reality. She saw the days when her serenades still enchanted the air, the days when her ballad was still under her notes, the days when she was not yet the woman she is now. Those fantasies repeated itself endlessly in such a way that it only prolonged her suffering.
But, she had enough and launched her fist into the glass. Her harrowing scream matched the dissonance of the brutal shower of smashing crystals. “YOU CANNOT SING ANYMORE!”
“GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS!” she violently shouted. “THEY ARE ALREADY DEAD!”
The pretense of her existence vanished when her trembling legs collapsed from her out-bursting rage. She lay on the floor; her bitter tears overflowed and fell on her cheeks. Her broken sobs filled the silence of the night. Then came running down was her sister who instantly panic when she saw the ruins. But no matter who tried to comfort her, no one would ever understand the pain of a person who has lost her purpose.
That rainy morning, the doctor arrived at our house. Despite his age, he managed to heed my call and come right on time. He furrowed his brow and groaned as he studied the results of the report. Then he looked back at me, his wrinkles only made his grimace look worse. With a sigh, he resigned his answer.
“She is in code red,” he declared the obvious. “While I respect your decision to keep her here, I will still recommend for her to stay at the ward. We will take care of her.” He gave the same suggestion that I always reject.
“It is not my decision to keep her here, but hers. Her stress rises most when we are not together. I’m sorry Dr. Adam, but she is safest when she is under a company that she trust.” I rejected his offer and he accepted it with full open mindedness. He knows how fragile was the case with my sister and my actions are not as foolish as it seem.
“I understand, but I will have to change her medicine for this week,” he proclaimed as he opened his bag and handed out the new tablets. “These are stronger than the last. Make her drink it every day before bed or during her breakdowns.”
I hid my disgust as I took it in my hands. They keep on making her drink these chemicals in dosages that make it seem like they plan to turn her blood into poison. This will heal her, they said. This will save her, they said. But in reality, they only end up corrupting what makes her a human. I fake my smile as I shook his hand “Thank you for the time Dr. Adam.”
“Don’t mind it,” he bid his farewell as he grabbed his hat and I assisted him outside. Before stepping into his car, he called out his final reminder, “Don’t be afraid to call me if ever she lost control again, ok?”
“I will,” I promised. Then he drove his way into the horizon.
Now alone once more, I proceeded back into the room where I found her sitting motionless on the floor. She hugged her legs as she sat there with her head staring up into the wall. The shine in her eyes has dimmed into sunken orbs, delicate lips parted softly to prove her breathing. But in whole, she was barren of sign of life. She just lay there like a puppet that has lost its strings.
She was always like this when she takes her medicine. It was supposed to calm her down but in effect, she is no better than a mannequin that awaits her rot. Gone were the days when she still has the courage to cry. But her reality proved to be too painful to endure. And in order to protect herself from herself, she created a different world where she can stay safe.
Her name is Alice – my twin sister. Once upon a time, she was a prodigy of music, the sonorous hymn of her violin masterpieces was known far and wide. She has been through different countries and met wonderful people who saw her works as their anodyne for the soul. Right on the moment her fingers touched her instrument, everything else loses its value. So young she was, to attain so much achievements, that it made me jealous. But deep inside, I recognize her as deserving of it.
Behind the luster of lights, her true nature was far different from her effeminate act. She abandoned school and rejected the value of socialization. She locked herself inside the studio and away from the world. If it won’t improve her craft, she treats it as an annoyance. She struggled with trusting others. If it weren’t for her success, people would have deemed her different.
I’ve witnessed everything that she went through, and she saw me as an ally for it. Every time she was done with something, I was always her first audience. Whenever she made another hit, the spoils of her victory was always shared with me. And during the times when her inner conflicts spills out of her control, it was my embrace that she seeks. I was the only person whom she feels assured with.
We know that nothing stays the same forever. But nothing prepared us for that ill twist of fate; a simple car crash that should have only given her a few bruises. But in a spat of horror, her spine was damaged and few ligaments were cut. Those few muscles disabled her wrists and from that day hence, she became the nightmare’s plaything.
Every genius has their own set of madness, and it did not take long for her to be consumed by it. She was unable to accept the news that her dreams are over. Day and night, we seek doctor after doctor who would offer any solution but they just hang their head to show their understanding of our grief. That broke her heart.
She started to act strange. She forgets the most recent things and sometimes, even repeats her actions. Talking to herself and laughing for no reason, she lost her cries but not her despair. Till one night, I just found her cutting her arms, crying, “If they cannot fix me, then I will do it myself.”
I was left with no choice but to call the authorities. It pained me so much when they had to take her to the ward but it was for the best.
It has been two years since that tragedy. She showed improvements and adapted to her modern life. Much as she tried to hide it, she still craves to achieve that dream that was ruthlessly denied of her. She spends her time back at her studio; her notes littered the floor just as how it has always been. She does not want to forget, but neither does she want to stay the same. I know that she has her own ways of dealing with it, I just had to wait.
In order to break the silence, I tried to cheer her up. “Hey Alice, do you want to go to the beach next week?” I asked her but there was no response. Her eyes were lifelessly fixed on nothingness. Her trophies and ribbons decorated the blankness of the walls. They were good memories once, but on the day we lost our prayers, they are nothing more than the haunting verses of our past.
“That’s right, Alice, let’s go to the beach!” I tried to act cheerful for her. I knew she was listening. “Just the two of us. Let’s pack our cutest swimsuits, reserve in the finest hotel and who knows? We might find ourselves some males. Lured by the seductive allure of glistening oils and strong scent of lust, they shall be falling to our tricks and traps. Let’s make a sport of their desires and leave them enraged at how they almost had it. What do you say?”
“Or better yet, let’s take a vacation to some highlands and try skiing. Together, let’s play with some real snow and not with the frozen smog of the city. Just tell me where, I can reserve a flight for it any time you want.”
She slightly opened her mouth for an answer. I felt joy when I saw it, but not when I heard it “Hey Martha, do you hate me?”
I froze from her word. “Just why would you say that?”
“Every day, every day, every day!” Her voice was laced with an increasing anger. “You keep on saying those things as if I am normal. Do you know how painful it is for me to know that your life still goes on while mine has ended already?!”
Suddenly, she jumped to her legs like an enrage beast. Her face overflowed with hate, her flaring eyes burned into mine. “I am not an idiot! I know that I have lost everything! There is nothing worth for me to live for. Why do you keep pestering me like this?!”
All her emotions erupted in a storming wrath. I was left speechless and my color was drained. When her outburst finally cooled down, the realization of her act hit her hard. In shame, she planted both of her palms to her face and once more, I heard the sadness that she tried to hide for all those years.
”I’m sorry,” she cried and took a step back, undeniably regretting her act. “I didn’t mean to.”
She tried to apologize but her legs tripped and she fell. I immediately rushed to her rescue, but it was too late. Her back fell into the glass table. Tiny shards of glasses pierced her clothes and sliced her flesh. The floor was tinted red from the bits blood that flowed after.
“I can’t feel anything,” she cried as we lay there, injured. Her wails echoed through our lonely walls. “I can’t play my music anymore. I cannot even feel the pain. Why can’t I just die?”
Under that question, I was unable to do anything else but to hold her. I will not shed a tear. I had to stay strong for her.
That night, I was awoken by the same voices that I heard coming from Alice’s room. Her same sweet voice whispered through the darkness as she spoke with the hidden ones. This happens to her every week. I was said that there’s nothing to be worried about, as her recovery takes time. But tonight, something about her voice seems different. She sounded paranoid and terrified- something that I never heard before. I did not hesitate any longer, and rushed to her room,
Her door was wide open but I still knocked to sound my arrival. She was there, sitting up in her bed, her head kept on turning as she addressed the things that are unseen. She did not even appeared to see me when I passed by her line of vision. “No! I won’t do it, leave me alone, don’t talk to me!”
“Alice, what’s wrong?” I asked, and then softly held her shoulder.
“Rika.” When she finally noticed me, her head turned and I saw fright in her eyes. Before I knew it, she jumped to lock me in her arms. Her weight forced me into the bed. Without pulling her face off my bosom, she spoke; “You’re Rika, right? Rika, my twin sister, right?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Is something wrong?”Â
“It’s horrible!” she wailed “ They’ve come. They came back again!”
“Who came back?”
She buried her face deeper, desperate to flee from whatever it is she’s seeing. “Dogs, and Angels. They came to hurt me again. They laugh and eat and kill. They make mockeries of me. The angels use your voice to speak to me. They say that I am a burden for you, that I should be ashamed of myself and you will be happier if I am gone. You won’t say something like that, right? They are not real right? Please, tell me they aren’t real!”
My grasp on her became tighter as I came to realize that those images are symbols of her consciousness. Her thoughts that took physical form from her overwhelming stress. “They are not. Don’t listen to them Alice. They do not exist.”
“But they seem so real, and you seem so imaginary,” she wailed again. “Please Rika!” she begged in her howl, “Please! Talk to me, make them go away!”
With those words, I drowned in my own madness and tighten my hold so much that it hurt her. When all the omens pointed to us, we know we have already fallen so far. So long have we lost the joy of chasing a dream, knowing only the monochrome shade of our fears. But in a whim, I prayed to stop it all – please don’t take her away, for I am lost without her.
“Alice my dear, I will end them all for you,” I vowed my pledge, and then let my insanity run its course.
I planted a kiss on her lips and stole the moment’s time. Our lips reached deeply and far, as I began to intertwine it with hers. She knows what I am after, will she fight me off? I did not wait for the answer. I parted our lips to lick her in her collarbones and left a trail of kisses on her neck as I descended down to her bosom where I unbuttoned her dress. Her chest was heaving heavily with every hated breath. There are still some nerves of her that remain undamaged, and I targeted them.
On one hand, I massaged her mounds, and constantly used my fingers to flick and pull her nipples. On the other, I had my mouth to suck her breast. Using my teeth, I lightly nibbled on her bust point and bit it aggressively till it was swollen hard. My ear perked up to hear her whimpered cry. A proof of her pain and evidence of her pleasure. Her mouth agape as she felt the courting of my love.
Slowly, I glide my hands to her waist and snaked my way down to her crevice. I caressed her folds gently at first but it gained strength as her wetness began to flow. She threw her arms to my neck and pulled me closer. In her hard breath, she panted my name “Rika…”
Her nectar freely ran through and soaked her panties wet. Knowing that she won’t need it anymore, I proceeded to take off her skirt and slide it down the floor. She must have felt embarrassed to be the only one naked. I moved over and proceeded to face her crotch, she hesitated at first but I insisted to pry her legs apart and dived right into her glistening wetness.
I slithered my tongue inside of her and what a sight it was to see her writhe in pleasure. Her muscles contracted and clamped me tight, as if inviting me to go in deeper. I curved my reach to hit her sweet spots. Instantly, she whimpered a delicate cry. Her little flower was warm and slippery from the natural lubricants that leak out from my clutches. But I scooped them out and made sure that no sweet nectar of hers will be wasted.
Drunk from her flavor, I trusted my finger deep into her socket. Her tightness was astonishing in a way that increased our arousal. Her legs were beginning to buck in accordance to her convulsing flower. In order to prolong the frenzy, I opened her pleats of flesh and reached my tongue to her clit. Though it was such a small bud, it was her most sensitive place. Her sticky wetness, oozed down as she neared her climax.
“Rika….,” she panted “Im gonna-.”
She never finished her word, her back just arched as she was consumed by her wild spasm. Her scream accompanied her unrestrained ecstasy as each and every single nerve on her skin began to thrash and disorient her thoughts. When it was over, she settled down, her legs still quivering.
“Are they gone yet?” I asked her, my voice cannot hide the guilt of how I took advantage of the moment. She giggled in response and I failed to understand how to react to it.
“For so long, I never realized it.” Her giggle rose up to laughter. Her humor was filled with the serene voice that she used to have. It sounded so pure; it was as if she just made a joke of her every burden.
“Huh?” my head titled to the side, confused by what she just said. But she never answered anymore. Instead, she rose up to look at me with a smile before leaning to my ear and whispered softly,
“Hey, it’s your turn now.”
I was wearing only a thin night gown without anything underneath, so it freely slid down at the faintest push on the string supports. Quickly, she snuggled to my neck and descended down to my nipples. I admit, I took a liking to her sudden change but this is wrong. “Hey, are you sure about this?”
“You said nothing when you played with me,” she argued. “I deserve equal treatment, right?”
She leaned over and suckled on my breast, trying her best to imitate what I did. But due to hectic time schedule on her past, she has low experiences with herself to have a good idea of my tricks and plays. I do not know what the matter is with the change in her attitude. Perhaps she was addicted from the feeling of orgasm or she just found a new diversion that she can get hooked to. Whatever the reason, I will do my best to support her.
I welcomed her with full delight as she opened my privates and inserted her small fingers inside. The feelings of both excitement and an insatiable craving were in her aura. She pressed her lips hard on my nipple like an infant, before she forced herself deeper and proceeded to copy my act but I thought of a better idea. I would like to teach her a new trick.
I picked up her legs and entwined it with me till we are now sitting face to face with each other. Our nipples perked up against each other till I closed the gap and embraced her. Just as how the position was named, we were like a pair of scissors spread wide and pressured hard against each other’s genitals.
After making sure that our little roses were flatly in contact with each other, I began my movements and roughly grind myself with her. Her eyes opened in shock at the sensations that she least expected. Locked within each other’s limbs, there was no other escape but to join our vigorous dance. Our extracts lubricated our thighs with so much thick juices that it flowed to stain the bed in a puddle. So strange the taste of having our privates stimulated like this that our burning breath rose up to a cry, begging for more.
I gave strength to my hips as I swayed my genital against hers. Our sticky fluids mixing together as one, I was intrigue of how sweet our flavor will be. She reached her embrace tighter around me, the cascade of immense pleasure was too much for her to bear that she kept on breathing my name as I moaned together with her. With our voices filling the room like this, it sounded as if we are singing. Soon, she began to make her own movements, slowly at first, but she got the hang of it and began to sway with the same rhythm that I started.
In the peak of the moment, I linked my mouth to hers and shared yet another passionate kiss. For a while, our lewd voices was muted but when we parted, we ring out in louder voices.
“Rika, I’m gonna cum again,” she panted as she reached her hand for something to hold on. She found my hand and clasped it in a solid grasp.
“Together,” I breathed in reply.
With that said, our vigorous strokes escalated beyond our limits. We became so intoxicated by our ravenous libido that our very breathing has stopped. It was followed by an orgasm that ripped us from the inside. My mind faded into white as my senses misfired. Together in the screams of our release, we held each other until the astonishing jolt finally subsided and we collapsed on the bed.
No words needed to be spoken. With a small smile peeking beneath our lips, we gave each other a goodnight kiss and finally dazed off.
Among them, she was the first to rise up. She stood out of the bed slowly and peeked through the window curtains. The burst of light was a pleasant feeling for her as she stared at the horizon that was coated in the pure colors of winter. It has been so long since she felt her mind to be so clear.
“For so long I never noticed. The answers were right here,” The carousel of sorrow has ended for her and now she stares at a life renewed. She immersed herself in the sight of the winter cold before finally turning back to the person who has been with her with an undying spirit. A tender smile blessed the words that she spoke, “If I cannot die for my art, then I just have to live for you.”
Then jumped back into the bed, excited for what is about to come.
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/incest-fantasy/love-and-lunacy