My brother.

The bus stopped at my destination at 1:02 AM. Just a tad later then scheduled. We exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways. Joanna and Kali are off to explore the icy state and I am in route to my half brothers residence. This place is so damn cold. My earphones have frozen and the GPS won't function properly.

I arrived at my half brother's house at 1:38 AM.

I knocked politely. He opened the door. He was naked and held a knife tightly in his hand. He has always been so welcoming (Haha). He had a look of sheer madness spread across his face. Seeing him is like looking in the mirror. Except my ears are pointier and his hair is darker and cut differently.

"You gonna put down that knife?"

He looked insanely at me.

"W-who...who are you?" I was seriously considering smacking him.

"It's Gabriel. You gonna let me in?" He still looked crazy.

"What do you want?" He asked as if he didn't remember me at all.

"For gods sake man, what do I gotta do, beg?"

"Do I know you?" He was drunk...as usual.

"Samuel, it's me, Gabriel. Now let me in before I tell our father what you've done." I knew how to tiptoe my way around this.

"N-no pplease don't...I'll let you in." He was scared to death by my completely invalid threat. He was drunk. So it didn't really make a difference how valid my threats proved to be as long as they were effective.

He opened the door, still clenching the knife.

His house was a mess. Beer cans and cigarette butts scattered across the room as though it was part of the decor.

"Is it locked?" I asked, approaching the bedroom door. He always seemed to lock himself out of his room when he was drunk.

He gave it some thought.

"I don't think so."

Those first three words described his entire life. He has never been very bright. The fact that he went to college and got some dumbass degree somehow proves his intellect to everyone. He simply lacks common sense. He had everything. A family, money, friends, everything. And then he goes and ruins it all. Unbelievable. I have tried time and time again to help him, but he doesn't listen.

He has, on multiple occasions, demonstrated to me his ability to kiss (and occasionally fuck) me. It has never failed to creep me out. I mean sure we aren't full blooded brothers, but still there's a clear line. It must not be as clear in his mind.

I opened the door. The room was spotless. He clearly didn't sleep in there very often.

"Do you want?" He asked, I knew what was coming.

He rubbed my cock.

"Do you think you can handle me?" I shoved him aside.

"Oh I know I can handle you."

I forced him onto the bed. Hardly allowing him to breath in between kisses.

"I fucking love you." I said in between his reluctant gasps for air.

"I do too...." He continued kissing me.

I pushed him away. Trying to remove my shirt, but he kept coming for more kissing.

"B-be patient."

"I can't be anymore patient. I've waited so long for you to come back."

I felt an uncontrollable urge to go inside him.

I yanked off my pants.

I hovered over him kissing the hell out of him might I add. His need to breath is twice as great as mine making it quite difficult.

I pushed his legs apart. Rocking rhythmically.

Somehow I missed this. I must be messed up.

I gripped his hand digging my nails deep into his skin. With my other hand I pinned his shoulder down forcefully.

"I missed you." I stated. It was true I missed him. I missed the smell of his filthy fly ridden house. I missed the sound of his breathing. I missed home. I just hadn't realized how much.

I shuddered at the thought of me loving my brother. I shook uncontrollably.

"Are you ok?"

I kept it under control for the most part.

"I just..." I started over. "I really missed you."

I leaned over his shoulder and kissed his forehead.

"I missed you too." He kissed me. I wanted.

I straddled him and kissed him viciously. He rolled on top. He began kissing my bruises possessively. His tongue tracing the claw marks I had gained from a rougher night with our father. He made me feel tingly. He followed the trail of bruises and scars down to my pants. He unzipped my pants and felt me. I do not find sex very appealing. I prefer kissing and other forms of contact. Although for most people kissing leads to sex...so it kind of ruins it.

After awhile of this he wanted to trade off. So we traded off and I kissed his bruises (he has lots of bruises from me being a bit forceful). He squealed like a fucking girl. If that didn't damage my hearing I don't think anything will.

I didn't need to take my pills, meaning it's time again.

So about four to six times a year I get extremely sexually violent/sexually active. I can become...enraged and it can be quite dangerous. It can go on for several days or several weeks, and last time it went on and off for a couple months. This is NOT a good time for anybody to come into my life. The last time this happened was last winter/fall.

I was out of control. My urges cannot be put on a leash. Instead they are paraded about for everyone to see.

I dug my nails into his back, rocking inside him.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck..." He wouldn't shut up, so I kissed him.

"You talk to much." I whispered.

I grabbed his shoulder tightly leaning close for another round of kissing.

I clawed his hand and gripped his arm, needing to feel him.

He was too tired to continue.

"Do you...do you love me?" I wasn't sure where that came from.

"Yes."

I kissed him and fell asleep.

Sunday, March 31st, 2013


Gabriel