Sit Your Dumb A$$ Down

21. funeral

I rushed out to my car and threw her on the back seat. It was now 4 a.m. I wasn’t worried about work; I would never work there again. I would never see Miami again; my sister would never see Florida the bitch or the state ever again.

I hoped inside and I didn’t bother locking my front door. I had lots of money in three bank accounts and about fifteen thousand under the spare tire in my trunk. I owned my house.

I’d hire a moving company to ship my things to the state I would live in. North Carolina. I drove for hours, never going to sleep.

My sister squirmed the entire time. I left her ass tied up. Fuck it! I was her guardian now. About fourteen hours later I arrived in North Carolina.

About to fall asleep at the wheel, I then checked into a hotel. I carried my weak sister, who has pissed and shitted all over
herself, into the room.

I took out the yellow pages and called a drug rehab center. I told them I found my sister drugged up. They told me to bring her by. I took her.

She was suffering from malnutrition. She had to be hospitalized. They put IV drips in her wrist, and she would be there for two months.

While she was being nursed back to
health I told doctors do not let her out of their sight. I paid them under the table with drug money for their loyalty.

Battling feelings of guilt, and being ashamed that I didn’t know I was married to my sister, I called a lawyer, told him the situation and I paid him a hefty retainer to
discreetly have our marriage annulled.

He did it quickly. In a few months we’d be divorced. I then called a moving company and had my things packed and shipped to my new home in Winston Salem, North Carolina.

I also called a realtor and had my house put up for sale. A Cuban college student by the name of Hector bought it. $240,000 put into my bank account. I would provide for my sister.

I would be right by her side. She was well
rested and after a few weeks she started gaining her weight back. I would stare at her for a long time.

As each day passed and she got stronger and the drugs were pushed out of her body, she would start to look more and more like my mother.

She had Mama’s eyes, nose and chin; she had my Daddy’s forehead and beautiful smile. I cried for a long time I silently prayed to God and got my faith back.

The mustard seed was growing every day. We would talk and talk, now that the truth about us was out amongst ourselves we got really close. It was hard not to have romantic feelings for each other but we practiced it, and every day it got easier and easier to let those feelings go.

After another two months I no longer had sexual feelings for my blood sister. I was her big brother. For now what I said, went. I had to be her protector.

She’d been hurt so much, back when I didn’t know she was my sibling, back when she was a “stranger” at my, I meant our mother's funeral.