Desired

Autumn has come.
The days are shorter, a holiday chill in the air.
The tree's are full of bright colors, the lawns filled with pumpkins and indian corn.
Riley has gone back home to the old town, left two weeks ago.

I find myself sitting awkwardly, restlessly, in the living room of the Porter's.
Farrah sits across from me silently, looking down at her hands on her lap.
Blake sits next to her, twiddling his thumbs.

"Dinner will be ready in just 5 minutes!"
I hear Mrs. Porter yell from the kitchen, where my mother disappeared, what seems like, years ago.

Sighing, I rub my temples, wishing for the sweet release of death.
Anything would be better from this everlasting, tedious, boredom.

"Blake!"
Calls Mr. Porter from the garage.
"Come here, I need your help with the carburetor!"

"Coming dad!"
Kissing the top of Farrah's blonde head, he gets up and jogs down the hall, vanishing in the shadows.
She doesn't react, just stares down at her hands.

"Your awfully quiet"
I remark, crossing my arms, relaxing into the sofa I sit on.

She looks up quickly, squirming in her seat slightly.
"I guess"

Licking my naked lips, I cross one leg over the other, raising an eyebrow.
"Something wrong Goldilocks?"

She shakes her head timidly, tucking some hair behind her ear.
As she did this, part of her neck was reveled, where a hickey lays out in plain sight.

Could Blake have been more obvious that his nailing his sister?

"Um, sweetie"
I gesture to my neck, rolling my eyes.
"Might wanna hide that"

Eyes widening immensely, and cheeks flushing pink, she quickly pulls her hair over it.
"Thanks"
She responds quietly, shrinking back into the couch cushions.

Fuzz jumps up next to me, purring and rubbing her head against my arm.
Smiling, I scratch behind her ears. Letting my head fall back, I close my eyes and try to focus on her purring.

"Please" I beg horsely, tears now pouring down my cheeks.
"Don't do this"

"This is all your good for, you know this right? Your just a little whore"
He snaps, ripping off my sneakers so he can get my jeans off.

I scratch at his face and upper body, making him hiss in pain, pinning my flimsy arms down above my head, with one hand.

"Stop"
I sob, shaking my head, my voice cracking.

He presses his knee down hard on my lungs, using his free hand to grasp my throat.
"Shut.The.Fuck.Up, is that really so hard to understand?"
He growls as I begin to jerk and squirm, trying to get out of his hold.
His hand on my throat contracts, his knee compressing my lungs even more.
I stop moving, trying to choke up a breath.

"I will straggle and fuck your dead body if you would like, is that how you want this to go?"
I manage to shake my head, trying to remain conscious.

He releases my throat, moving is knee down to pry my legs apart.
I hear undoing of zippers and fabric being handled.
He takes off my panties, but doesn't bother with my shirt.

"You'll like this you little slut, because that's just what you are, a slut. That's all you ever will be"
I feel his mouth on the side of my neck. His slimy, cold tongue on my flesh.

God make this stop...

*X*

I sit with my mother and Mrs. Porter at the dining room table. Dinner is over and done with, the plants washed, the food put away, and the coffee and cookies put out. The father's disappeared back to the work in the garage, Blake and Farrah headed upstairs, with Farrah wearing a very odd look.

I sip my coffee, white from the overdose of hazelnut creamer.

I ignore the conversion of the middle age women next to me, staring off into space.
With a groan, I stand, cracking my back, then my knuckles.

"Mrs. Porter where is the bathroom?"
I ask tiredly, leaning all my weight on my left leg.

"Oh well, the downstairs one is being renovated, so you'll have to use Farrah's. Her room is the third door on the left upstairs"
Mrs. Porter smiles, pointing to the staircase.
Nodding, I trudge over to the stairs, ambling up them, jaded.

The door to Farrah's room is wide open, and as I peek inside, I find, completely empty.

After doing my business in the bathroom, I start down the hallway towards the stairs, when I hear the muffled voices of Farrah and Blake from behind his closed door.

Biting my lip and looking from the stairs to his room and back, I tiptoe over to the door.
Pressing my ear against the tiny crevice between the door and the frame, I try to make out what is being said.

"She knows"
Comes Farrah's timid voice.

"Are you sure?"
Blake's voice is low, irritated.

"Yes. What if she tells them, what will happen? I don't want to loose you Blake"

"You won't, I will not let that happen"
His voice is strong.

"But what is she tells?"

"She won't"

"How do know?"
Her voice is soft, sorrowful.

"Because I will make damn sure she doesn't"
His tone is nothing, but threatening, in a very serious sense.

"How?"

"You just leave that up to me, and don't worry. I love you Farrah"
There is a pause, a rustle of fabric, then a sound of someone kissing someone else.

"I love you too, Blake"

*X*

I lay on my side in my bed, gazing out the window, the sky is filled with a garden of stars.
All I can think of is Farrah's voice, it plays over and over in my head.

I love you too, Blake. I love you too, Blake. I love you too, Blake.

The affection in her words, the tenderness, the purity.
True, real, love.
If there is such a thing...

And the terrible anger that was in his voice, barely concealed.
Like he would do anything and everything to keep her, and not even I could change that, and I'm just the pathetic slut making things difficult.

Growling. I turn over onto my back, covering my face with annoyance.

"Dammit"
I curse, letting my arms fall onto the mattress.

I'm just a lowly little creature. Nothing, but a whore.