She

She

A Story by Christopher Robin
"

A short story about a very special type of love.

"

She

 



Her softness fills the air of the room.

With her arm around me not only can I accomplish anything, I need accomplish nothing.

 

‘Sister…’

 

The words have not yet finished passing my lips before she places a smooth and all silencing finger against them. Instantly I am under her spell, my eyes dare to connect with hers and I lose my soul as a consequence. I am owned, I am nothing more than what she tells me to be. I am enslaved. She whispers, hardly needing to raise her voice above such gentle levels to ensure total command.

 

‘Hush’

 

A sweet and serene melody brushes itself across my unworthy eardrums. I am struck dumb, slapped into silence by her merest utterance. The game has not yet begun and already I have lost. My heart, my soul, my will, my life, things not to be bargained idly, now belong to her.

 

The light in the room fades down to a dim glow coming from an indiscernible location. So intent on my obedience of her order I did not see her move. I look up slightly and steal a glimpse of what used to be. I once owned that chair, that lamp, that door, this was my house. Now she strides with such domination in her step that it would be laughable to believe I am in anyone’s territory but hers.

 

‘The trips, the X, or something else my darling?’

 

Sweet choir of angels that sings to me and me alone! It takes a few moments to calm my euphoria. I have been asked my opinion, as though something as insignificant as my thoughts mattered in this situation. A nagging thought of hope tugs at the furthest corners of my mind. I have only lost the battle in my head; the night is still yet to be determined. I try to answer my flesh and my blood as off-handedly as I can.

 

‘Refuel before flight, of course…’

 

She buys it.

With a swift smirk she reaches into her purse. I know she is cursing herself for letting me see her smile. It is my own little victory. She feels impressionistic and foolish. I must expect the worst assault yet. I prepare myself by letting my thoughts linger on the current scoreboard. I have never lost, not to her. I am glad she does not know I lose to myself everytime. She produces two zip locked bags from her purse, and lays them carefully on the bed. One contains seven or eight small yellow tablets. The other some small squares of paper, each with a yellowish blob in the centre of them. She stands straight, and moves her hands to her neck.

 

No.

Anything-I was prepared for anything but this.

 

Her lithe pale fingers clasp the topmost zipper of her top and begin to slide it downwards. This is a sneaky attack, one which not only cannot be used by me, it cannot be countered. Her black top slides like liquid silk from her perfectly round and smooth shoulders. Underneath she wears what can only be described as a convenient arrangement of straps. She is fully covered, yet fully revealed at the same time. I see now as my eyes scream for me to look closer, the top fits perfectly with her small black skirt. A plan she had devised long before I was aware of it. I had no idea it would come to such devious blows this fast. She allows herself another smile, but this one belongs to her, not to me. Like the roar of an alpha lioness, she has reclaimed her territory.

 

‘You first’

 

Those two words are the same words of daring I have heard throughout my entire life. To climb a tree, to jump out of the way of a train, to say something offensive in class, to drink, to steal, to fly.

 

To enter another person.

 

She floods me with such visions that I find it hard to believe I am still breathing afterwards. My mind is suffocated with memory, desire, and sin. There’s nothing else for it, there is only one way to win now.

 

Bag.

 

Two.

 

Twenty minutes.

 

I look to the clock, a stupid smile on my face indicating my obliviousness to the passage of real world time. But then again, real world time matters little in this room. This escape. This place where morals are left at the door, and only your lust and desire are allowed through.

 

The feeling starts at the very tips of my body, a warmth, a sudden awareness of the blood pumping through its cycle. I raise my hand to my heart, it is fluttering with the excited beat of anticipation, anxiety, and the breach of taboo.

 

‘Be with you in a moment…’

 

These sounds are now fresh and alive. Not heavenly but real, as solid as the pills themselves. My sister lies beside me, her soft hair mingling with my own as her head nuzzles into my neck. I can feel the same reaction taking place in her body. Her breathing quickens, and this is not the only reason I cannot move my eyes from her chest. Her eyes look to mine, both our pupils expanded, the only physical indication of the true evil inside every human. Her eyes look first to my own, then to where my eyes are looking, a third and final smirk declares another victory for her. As she breathes in, I can almost predict the words that are coming.

 

‘Kiss me’

 

An hour later, both of us are doubled up in delirious laughter, looking at the clock. Both of us breathe fast, the low light in the room barely causes the sweat to glisten across our naked forms. She is huddled against me, gracious in defeat. A kiss from my lips to her forehead indicates that it is time to fly.

 

Bag.

 

One each.

 

‘I saw him again the other day’

 

Her words hardly come close to my world, which has been devoured by a new force.

I blink and rub my eyes, desperately trying to hold on to what little sense I must have recently lost. It is barely fifteen minutes in and it has taken over. I look to my universe, my everything, she is shaking. It has got to her as well. Why has she said these words? She can’t still be playing, not even she is that good. My eyes focus and I look straight to her, to find she is looking at me. Though her bare body lies at my mercy, I cannot look away from those eyes.

 

Twenty minutes ago I was calling the name of the lord. Now I am staring into the eyes of the devil.

 

She speaks with a raspy affliction, her words slow but painfully clear.

 

‘He doesn’t ask for money any more’

 

Accusation, suspicion, judgement, hatred. A million answers and a million conclusions spring into my mind. She sees someone else. I am not hers and she is not mine. Where and how did she acquire this substance burning through my sinews? She has seen him, she has loved him. This was a fair game, and now she has cheated. The truth is so clear in my mind that it is indisputable. The lust-ridden smile beneath her burning, treacherous eyes tells me she can read my mind. She will not argue, she knows I will torture myself enough. I have to stop her, she cannot win tonight.

 

‘Tell me the truth!’

 

I reach out, but instead of caressing, my hand cuts her. I watch in disbelief as blood gushes from her neck and her shoulder. She stares at me as though I encompass all the evil of the world inside my hollow shell, as though a devil made flesh stands in my place, and I know it does. I look up to see God’s defiant back, and look down to see Satan’s welcoming arms. He is my comrade, my brother, and my self.

 

With a blink the vision fades, and I curse the source of these trips. Something is wrong with them. Or is there? Am I perhaps seeing clearly for the first time in my life? My sister has been cheating at our game for so many years, yes, of course she has. I watch her as shadow and darkness spreads from under her, she wreathes herself in flame and-

 

I blink.

 

She lies pure and innocent, panting, her eyes watching a world I cannot see. She can no longer even hear me. I crawl to her, brushing my hand across her cheek. Her eyes refocus on me, she smiles.

 

We are one.

 

Half an hour passes.

 

We are alone.

 

A jumbled heap of words vomits itself from my senseless mouth.

 

‘It would be sin beheld should they beget another, two sinners born from one sinning mother’

 

She laughs. It is a sound filled with such security and promise that all my worries vanish the instant I become aware of it. It fills not only the room, but also ourselves. It does not simply sooth worry, it mocks the very idea. Sin is driven and banished from the room, and only purity remains. We are not brother and sister, but man and woman, and we are fulfilling God’s greatest design : creation.

 

I look about for my clothes, they are easily found on an otherwise bare floor. The smile cannot be shifted from my face. Though she laughs in the face of her defeat, the fact remains that I have won. Her mood is light, I am tired, I lay back onto the bed, half clothed, and listen to the sound of her voice, taking care not to discern any specific words. It is a stream, upon which happiness itself flows, dotted here and there by sudden birdsong, I could listen to her speak for eternity, and I hope I do. From the corner of my eye I see her waving her hands about, animatedly recalling what was clearly a hilarious chapter in her life. As her movements become blurred I retreat further into my mind, relaxed and at ease.

 

I blink.

 

It is completely dark. I am aware of her warmth and her steady breathing, one of her hands lies across my chest, her stripped body lying full length against my side. My eyes smile as they make out the outlines of the shadowed room. I see a few things I can count as my own once more. As though they were bars of gold I count the things I own. My chair, my lamp, my door, this is my house. I watch the window for what seems like the entire night. No sound from the outside world hints at its existence. I whisper, it begins our only conversation for the night.

 

‘Sister?’

 

‘Don’t call me that’

 

 

‘Eve?’

 

‘Yes Adam?’

 

She speaks my play name with such relaxed and sincere assuredness that for a moment I am God’s first child.

 

‘Does this make you happy?’

 

‘It stops me from going insane’

 

‘Ah’

 

‘Same time next week?’

 

‘Of course…’

 

She is asleep, I bother her no more.

 

Light begins to slowly filter through the window. It begins as an orange pinkish glow somewhere on the horizon and as it grows, it becomes stronger, dispersing the darkness and shadow with ease. Each second it grows, the hold of darkness over the room and over my heart disappears. I can lie back comfortably on the bed, the arena of our sin. My mind is finally at peace, the substances are slowly draining from my body, and all too soon, the reality and harshness of the real world will come flooding back in on me. I sigh and shift myself more comfortably against her, I lift her arm slightly and place it so that it wraps round me. There is no position I feel safer or more comfortable in.

 

I smile.

 

Her softness fills the air of the room.

With her arm around me I can accomplish anything, and need accomplish nothing.

 

 

© 2014 Christopher Robin


Author's Note

Christopher Robin
Is enjoying this a commentary on me or you?

Enjoy ;)

My Review

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Featured Review

Its wickedly beautiful and the story is like a whirlpool, keeps pulling you in and pushing you forward..i am sure everyone who started it, finished it as well :p
And bro its a commentary on both of us :D you for enjoying writing a lovely piece and me for enjoying reading it :p haha

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

Glad you enjoyed, and all too true my friend :) Thanks for the feedback much appreciated!

read more



Reviews

Wow! I really love the religious connotations. They're perfectly placed and not at all preachy. It's bloody brilliant! :)

Posted 6 Years Ago


Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

Thanks L.E. !
Glad you enjoyed, I still can't figure out if it's double or triple irony in the.. read more
First off, it is interesting, and generally well written. It definitely needs a mature tag. Surprised the MatureRating police have not been on you with a piece with 270 views. As to subject matter, well, that is a matter of personal taste, I suppose.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

The subject matter may be abstract, but it is objective, it is the enjoyment (or lack thereof) of re.. read more
Lyn Anderson

6 Years Ago

Well, so you know, I once had my work blanket Mature Rated, which is difficult if not impossible to .. read more
Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

I appreciate the warning, and I'm sorry you got blacklisted, so far everything has worked out fine f.. read more
I began reading this, then thought, no, not really something I wish to continue with, but then the quality of writing overcame my distaste. You avoided descending into gratuitous or unnecessarily graphic detail, which many 'writers' do, (mostly to cover inadequate skills,) and this pleased me as you have no need.

It is always what lies beneath that has more allure and this is a fine example of the genre.

Beccy.

Posted 6 Years Ago


It's well and cleverly written and I enjoy good writing, even despite a subject that I find not entirely to my taste. I do like how you eschewed gratuitously graphic description. What lies beneath is generally always more alluring, (to both sexes,) than what is revealed.

Beccy.

Posted 6 Years Ago


You are an amazing writer. This was taboo in the most beautiful way!!!

Posted 6 Years Ago


I found this encompassing and wonderous, and extremely difficult to follow. Your words have burned themselves into my brain and consciously I strive to understand them, while my subconscious has already deciphered them. It reminds me of letting your eyes become unfocused in order to recognise a particular pattern.
I offer only the highest of compliments.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Wow. The piece challenges the reader. You constantly hold your breath, uncertain if you can believe what you are reading. The language is well chosen and is the product of a very well-read writer which I loved.
Despite the fact that I think this is really well written I'm not sure I enjoyed it. Too many taboos for me maybe.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Reminds me of Hitchcock films.
The narrative is spot on and the few dialogues serve as precise enhancements to the psyche of the character.

Very well written, and I may be over-analysing but did you not insert erotic allusions to maintain any sort of sanctity or you just did not want that in the piece?
Just wondered about that.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

Oh trust me sanctity was the first thing thrown out the window when this piece took form... I take .. read more
Stonz P.

6 Years Ago

Yeah, I was just wondering. Most writers tend to go graphic to provoke the imagination into unneeded.. read more
Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

Well thank you, and thank you again!
Its wickedly beautiful and the story is like a whirlpool, keeps pulling you in and pushing you forward..i am sure everyone who started it, finished it as well :p
And bro its a commentary on both of us :D you for enjoying writing a lovely piece and me for enjoying reading it :p haha

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

Glad you enjoyed, and all too true my friend :) Thanks for the feedback much appreciated!

read more
ok... I have to say, twisted and dark for sure... I got immersed in the story and had the stomach churning gut feeling like oh my gawd for real.. and burning curiosity had me reading further... then I get to your author's note and burst out laughing... you are evil... lol

You write really well, even if really...ummmm taboo a subject... really am surprised that I am the first to comment.. but of course I like being different... so whatever... this is one of those pieces that has me shaking my head like are you really reading this.. but the skill in which you write made it impossible to stop... jeez, you don't play around do you?...

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

Ha! Would that I could! Always wanted to see a live reaction to my writing, but if the entertaining .. read more
AprilRN1210

6 Years Ago

I can appreciate that... there are a few of my pieces that I would love to see a "live reaction" to... read more
Christopher Robin

6 Years Ago

Please don't, I even have a piece called 'stop', perhaps it's a sign...for you to do the opposite ha.. read more

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887 Views
11 Reviews
Rating
Added on August 12, 2014
Last Updated on August 12, 2014
Tags: Story, short, love, hate, romance, relationships, dark

Author

Christopher Robin
Christopher Robin

Melbourne, Caulfield, Australia



About
Chris, almost 28, live in Melbourne, love reading, writing, gaming. I like to have fun with words. I'd also like to raise the bar a little when it comes to publishing online 'literature'. I hope you b.. more..

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