Love Thy Sister (Lesbian Story)

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Ok, so I wrote this story a while ago and never finished it fully. I wanted to post it up see how you guys felt about it and continue it. It does revolve around a mature topic so if you can't handle it DO NOT READ!!!

 Abbey                             
Dear Journal. 2:20pm

He left me. He said that he had lost interest in me then left. He was my everything...I think. Even though I’m only 14 but he was my everything. We only went out for about two weeks. But I think I loved him. Who needs him. Boys are stupid. Yet I still love them. Crystal told me that he was too blind to see how amazing I am. I don’t think I’m amazing. More of an over-dramatic fat pale girl. But Crystal is tall, with chocolate colored skin beautiful deep brown eyes and everything about her seems safe. Mom and Dad are never home. She’s always protected me...ever since I can remember. That night when I was three years old and heard my first thunderstorm. She was four back then and held me through it all. I love her so much. When I think of her I just relax and my mind wanders off into into an innocent time. Before everything happened...before it...happened...



                                                          Crystal                                    

                                                                 3:40pm

What’s the point of high school? I mean really. It’s just hell’s playground. For seven hours we are trapped in its air conditioned molding walls of lost and faulty gained knowledge. Nothing interesting really. The only good thing about school is daydreaming. School was made for daydreaming in my opinion. To daydream about her. To daydream about us. The thoughts of Taboo even though half of the curious eyes are still watching you. I love English and Art though. Those are why I don’t skip school everyday. They're my motivators. They push me to my limits and make me strive to bust my ass in every other class so that maybe one day, one day I can share my words of knowledge to the world. Or at least to the few that will listen. Abbey always listens to my rambling at night. My rambling about life, love happiness, and the true meaning behind everything that us humans do. She’s the only person that truly understands me and probably will be the only person that ever will. We are connected even though we are both adopted by the so called King and Queen of this,empty castle. By day Abbey takes the family room for her thoughts and by night joins me in our castle room to drift into dreams. Our parents work from five till seven (so they say) and then they spend the night out at the local cafes making small talk with socially stuck up people they call their friends.I swear they have another house somewhere They don’t care about us. I know they don’t. They just adopted us to put on a show for the rest of society. Like mother always says “Adoption is setting a good example for society, and setting a good example is more important than anything whether you like it or not.” Mother and I have never gotten along. I don’t fit her “Perfect picture image” Neither does Abbey. But she somewhat blends in to it. Making my non conformity even stronger. Well my words are getting old. So I must go. Goodbye...



     Abbey                                                                 

                                                                                                                 6:19pm

Maybe I should text him. I mean he probably realizes how much he misses me. I know he will...right? Crystal always says that I shouldn’t try to beg for a guy to come back to me. But what does she know? She’s never had a boyfriend. She has never even had any friends except for me. She says she doesn’t need friends and that they blind you from your real potential in life. I  admire her for not caring what others think. I on the other hand care an awful lot about what others think. I probably need counseling for this Body dis formic order that I think I have. Maybe it’s hormones? But I just turned thirteen a few months ago. Hormones can’t work that fast can they? Maybe I should ask Crystal what she thinks of this. Crystals so smart, and funny, and sweet. She’s all I have really. I mean I have friends, but I can’t stay at my friends house all day everyday. She’s a part of me in a way...and when she leaves in four years I’ll miss her...we’ll go our separate ways and only meet up on Holidays...she’ll find someone and...and...I don’t know, when I think of the thought of her not being with me every morning or me being able to climb into her bed when it storms I’d just...cry. Life without her is an endless storm of tears that will never pass...The only reason why I’m even writing this is because Crystal told me that Journals are the way of thoughts displaying themselves and coming to life. She always looks at things as they have such a deep meaning. Like the other day she saw a football player break this thick fancy pen in half trying to impress his friends. She stopped, picked it up, and with the most serious look on her face said: “A thousand words are now lost because of some jackass’s fake attempt to impress someone with their so called strength.” Of course everyone stared at her as if she had lost her mind. But she didn’t care. She never does...the kid who even broke the pen said she was a “Freak of nature” she just simply smiled and walked away...it’s amazing how she can stand out in a crowd but in the same way blend in so easily. All she wears are loose hoodies of neutral colors. Black usually, Jeans, the beautiful crystal necklace that I made her when we were only five years old and her plain old converse. Nothing special really. She just has that ability to blend in and stand out...sort of like a lizard...but more elegant. I think I’m going to get ready for bed. This living room is getting empty. I mean it’s always empty except for me and occasionally Crystal but it just seems even more empty. Crystal’s probably in her room staring at the ceiling thinking like she always does on days like this. Well I’m done for the day.

                                                                              Your lost and delusional Teenage entry writer,
                                                                                                             Abbey



                                                 Crystal                             
                                                                                                                          10:23pm

She’s idle...I love when she is like this. Well I love watching her like this. Her pure white face so polar from mine. Her captivating grey eyes are barricaded away from the world, and her virgin body lays still and elegantly across her chartreuse bed sheets. The way she sleeps makes my heart melt...I need to stop these thoughts...their not right...but they feel right. Ever since I could remember I’ve always felt this way about her. I remember when we were little and in the apple orchard at Granny’s house. She was four and i was five. She reached up and...I can barely write it and words can’t describe it...she kissed me...it felt so real, so true...I was only five but at that time my small little insignificant life changed. Ever since then I’ve been more hooked than a drug addict locked in a pharmacy.Warped analogy right?. Ugh I would kill for a good nights sleep. The last time that happened was...I can’t even remember when the last I had a good nights sleep was. I just want to plug in my earphones and let the sound of sad songs and the singer’s filled with broken hearts and hyped up on mainstreams money take me away to an empty world. Abbey says I’m over-dramatic with everything I say and do. I say she’s just too inexperienced...or that she doesn’t truly want to confess everything that is going on inside of her. And that ex-boyfriend of hers...ugh I knew he could never treat her the way I could treat her. He’s a man. Better yet he’s a boy, and boys can’t satisfy a girl the way another girl can. That tool they have down there. Ugh it’s nothing compared to the soft, tender hands of a woman. The noises that escape her in pure true pleasure. I’m not saying that men are the worst thing that has been put on this earth because their not. I’m just saying, their not the most interesting thing, to me at least. Well I’m different. I excursively like girls. I guess if you wanted to stick a label across my face you could label me as a “Lesbian” I don’t like that word. It’s just another way of society trying to put people into little compacted groups, and making us fear ever stretching those boundaries. I know I’ll never stretch the boundaries though. These feeling are too strong and too true. The person I call my father always says: “Your too wise beyond your years, if you keep thinking like that by the time your 16 you’ll feel 99.” He’s probably right. But i know I still have a shit load of things to learn. There’s a storm coming and I’ll be waiting in my raincoat hidden with emotions and my strong umbrella to tackle it all with a simple smile. Sweet dreams my paper lover. I’ll be preparing to face another sleepless night.

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