Dear Z,

Hopelessly have you gone with things carried heavy in your heart.

Will you stop blaming yourself for everything? Will you stop putting yourself down?

Because you aren't just hurting yourself, you are also hurting me...

• • •

How did we get here? I was one minute ago, throwing it down with that asshole who broke my sister's heart and next minute, Rose has surrounded me.

I didn't know when I sat down; when her lotion smelling fingers that had the oud aroma dabbed on my cut lip, not to say but she did put pressure on more than unnecessary; her legs that were long as the days on summer solstice bordered me and I swear every time she digs into my muscles with her fingers, her breath whispers over my neck.

My insides tickle and my toes nudge left and right. I feel the pit in my stomach drop every time she leans forward and I feel her tits just brush by my back or maybe trace my spine with those nails. I swallow, hard. The saliva quenching my sudden parched throat. It was comforting. Only for a second.

The beer can on my swollen cheek was getting warm. My hand was an icicle from holding it. I place the can down on the carpet below me. I needed my hands free.

I clench and unclench them, waking up my nerves. With her unstoppable unknotting and grilling my back, I feel my eyelids droop and unconsciously, I drift back till my spine hit the edge of my bed. Only then do I register my mistake.

Heavy on my shoulders, her sweet breath murmured against my ear. It reminded me of the time I stood on the aircraft pad on a hot summer day and this wind out of nowhere flew to me. It was cool and tasted like how fresh air would.

I could feel her lips touching the shell of it. The curvy sensitive skin of mine tore straight through me reaching to my groin.

This is a dream. This is a dream. This is not a dream. I wake a little. Only a little.

"Do you feel better now?" Her fingers working those tight knots under my t-shirt down, close to my neck.

Her hands soothing the texture of my skin, molding the muscles, rolling and kneading and I couldn't help but let out another strained sigh.

"You like this." Her whisper was more of a question than a statement. I didn't know it but I was dying to do something. Itching to do something.

But I couldn't. I drop my hands down onto the carpet, my fingers digging in. To keep me steady. To keep me unwavering. To stop me from reaching for her.

Then, I felt her slide her tits across my back.

My fingernails scraped the carpet under me.

"Rose..." I warned her. For what I didn't know. Or maybe I didn't want to know. Something was unfurling inside me. Her breasts were achy and plump against my back. I felt the weight of them and I...I press back.

The scratch against the carpet amplified and it echoed in the silence of the room. Her soundless pants were right there, warm in my ear.

I widen my eyes. This is wrong. She was wrong.

I immediately tried to remove my back from her magical fingers. Creating a space which was suddenly needed. But Rose drew me back with those mad nails of hers pinning into my flesh. I hiss at the contact.

"Don't you move, Z."

Her breasts are pushed right against the back of my head and I feel all her curves. Every curvy angle of her waist to her hip. Then like a snake, she slithers both her legs onto my shoulders. Hooking onto them.

I don't know what she was planning to do but a valiant smile spread my cut lips. It hurt like hell but I am liking whatever this was. I wasn't even drunk. I was sober yet I felt like my brain was floating away in a liquid inside my mind.

You see, there is a reason why every thing wrong looks colorful, bright and very delicious. From the outside, you see what you want to see. You see no wrong. You see 'beautiful' things. And you see them because you are one of the many: lonely, unhappy, unsatisfied, disturbed, pressurized, searching for the ideal and the worst of this was needing to be happy at that very moment. Even if it was for the shortest of that moment.

I felt that way too. I saw this creature to be exquisite, tantalizing and mouth watering. Now for me, happy meant pleasure. I know what real happy was and this wasn't it. This was a different kind of happy. The one that lasts not too long.

But I know what Rose really is. What she truly is. A cunning manipulative bitch.

It's a cruel term but I know it's true. She loves to play. She loves to mess with the mind. She also loves to be at the top, in a way of saying she loves to win. She's been this way since her parents passed. I have seen her change so drastically that I realize how important role a parent plays in a kid's life.

Childhood is the crux of all the tiny problems that stem from. A serial killer often kills women because they had an over bearing, dominant, abusive mothers. A woman who has an abusive father is more comfortable with casual flings than connecting with a man emotionally. But like I said, these are from my theories. People vary.

However, when it comes to Rose. I see a clear breakthrough. From all the episodes with her I remember, one sticks to mind. It was just during the phrase when she used to go around with a lot of guys. It was like she was surrounded with men all the time. She never had girlfriends. Only guy friends with the exception of my sister.

There was an instant when I had seen talking to guy at a house party of some buddy of hers. I hadn't realized we were at the same party. This was at a time right before I entered flight school. I don't remember how I was there but I do recall that I was talking to some chick and drinking beer. It was late, almost close to midnight or maybe even later. Hard rock blasting through the sound speakers and teenagers, high as hell and grinding on each other in the small messy living room and I see her through the crowd.

Leaning in and touching a dude's beard. Playing with it. Rose smirks and grins. He touches her hip, squeezing it. I see them get up from the couch and make their way down the hall. I couldn't help it. I followed them.

I went through the narrow hall. My forehead began to sweat and I speed up till my eyes fall to her entering a random bedroom with the dude ahead of her. I catch her and immediately slam the door close. The guy inside shouts and I lock it. He bangs for a while but I ignore it.

I look down at her. "What are you doing?"

Her eyes were deep and always a hint of sadness which I seemed to see. Lately, it's gone. Yet that time, it was there. A hint of it and she speaks, "I can have some fun."

"Fun?" I question.

She steps close, her whiskey breath hitting my chin. I inhale it, swaying at my feet. She unlocks the door and before she leaves me standing looking at the closed door with her laughter echoing inside she says, "You remember fun, don't you Z?"

I am transported back to my room when that recollection of that memory ends. From that day, I changed my attitude towards her. I spoke less and less to her. Soon I'd only glare but I never took my eyes off her. I still don't know why I am aware of her presence any time she is in the room.

Back when we were kids, I used to be mean to her because she was always the smart mouth kid. She knew how to talk back at me. She knew how to hit and where to hit hard. I used to respect that although I never showed it. My ego couldn't allow that so I was nasty and I made her cry often whose guilt used to creep and choke me in my sleep. Slowly that stopped too.

Yet right now, this moment I forgot all that. Forgetting all that as I raise my hand and wrap it around her calf. I slowly slide up, feeling the muscles tone up to a thick luscious thigh and I again scale down and back up.

In this minute, I wanted to play this game. This twisted game that might cross a line, or blur it and I was about to but I was waiting for a sign. To stop this because I wasn't thinking clearly. My mind wasn't engaging. My heart pounding. My ears blocked. My cock stirring. My fingers clenching her flesh which I wanted to sink my teeth into.

And lastly, I wanted a distraction.

"Rose?"

She hummed.

"I wanna...have some fun."

She stilled. Her hands stopped caressing.

"Fun?" She squeaked, quietly after long tense silence that could have drowned us.

And I use the same line she told me all those years ago. Hoping she would remember. Understand my meaning. "You remember fun, don't you Rose?"

And if she wasn't already stilled, she had stopped breathing. Her heart was racing like a horse. I could feel the rhythm upon my back. I was sure it matched mine.

Thump,Thump,Thump,Thump. Is that a sign?

Before I could make a move I didn't know how to make, the rush of steps from outside flowed into the room. Rose probably heard it because I didn't feel her behind me. I wanted to look back and see where she was but my eyes began to fuzz and I laid my head back down, feeling the soft mattress under it.

No, that's a sign.

Yet as I closed my eyes, my ears started to work fine, my heart began to normalize, I felt strangely disappointed.

I hear my sister come in through the door and after a second, her warm hand placed upon my forehead.

"Zaid? Zaid? Are you okay? Is he having a concussion?" She taps my cheeks twice. I don't react.

Rose replied to her in her soft silky mumbles which I can't make out and I blink my eyes open when Adrianna taps me harder on the cheek.

"Knock it off. Leave me." I say, irritatingly. Pushing her hand away. I get up with a heave and then, I tilt back and fall onto my light mattress. Scooting back, I nudge open my shoes and kick them down, not caring where I threw them. I just wanted some shut eye. I pound on my pillow twice and slide my hands underneath, sighing at the coldness I feel.

My cheeks still feels swollen but less from before. It was bearable.

"Now, tell me how did it feel to kick that son of bitch's ass?"

I blink one eye open. Jeez, what does a guy have to do to get some sleep around here? "Just leave it alone, Adrianna."

"Oh c'mon! You are the good brother. You have never gotten into a fist fight. In high school, I thought you were legit gay."

I don't have time for this. I turn my body away from her. "Get lost, sis."

My bed creaked and I felt my sister climb over and whisper, "Whatever it was, I'm glad you did it. Thank you, baby bro." She pecks me quickly on my cheek and moves away. There is some shuffle that occurs behind my back but I don't turn around to check it. I know Rose is watching me. She is thinking about what I said.

The door shuts after a moment.

I stay like that for a while. My eyes open and I smile, feeling my bottom lip hurt where it was cracked. I still did it, anyway. It felt good hitting Philip.

Almost as good as feeling Rose's tits up my back.