Love Thy Sister (Lesbian Story)

Love Thy Sister: Chapter 3

Abbey

   8:19am

It’s finally Saturday. Sweet, sweet salvation from that place they force us to go to. Ugh, I feel like shit this morning. Is this what a hangover feels like? If it is I’m going to be an alcohol virgin forever. When I woke up my head was in Crystal’s lap and Crystal was drawing a picture of me. She’s so multi talented, she doesn’t think so but she is. She can write, draw, paint, listen, help people, and think so deeply you’d swear she’s a genius. I on the other hand am not good at anything. I never have been and never will. I wonder what my purpose is in life...maybe I was put here to help Crystal. That’s the only reason I can think of.  Maybe she was put here for me. Not like...I mean like to help me through a lot because she has helped me through a lot. I remember when I had hit rock bottom, just a year ago. I was a mess, flesh was ripped, and capsules were swallowed, tears were shed, and innocence was scarred...it all happened because of “the incident” I remember every inch of my body shaking, I remember so much fear in me that it sent electrifying shocks through my spine, I remember screeching to the sky so loud my throat ached for days. I remember it like it was only a few hours ago. And who was there for me? Crystal. I tried telling mother but she told me she didn’t have time to listen to me complain, and that she was late to a dinner party. I remember watching her scoop the expensive take out into a perfect glass dish to fool her friends. As she scooped my trust slipped through my hands as if it were never there. The only thing in this universe that I trust is Crystal. Of course I love my friends but I still have that fear. Sometimes I feel like my life is a game. How far can I be pushed until I break and broken forever...how far will I be pushed? And can I handle it? Will I succeed with what almost happened a year ago? I don’t know...I honestly don’t.

Crystal     

9:31am

I wonder what it feels like to be an average teenager. Of course I never want to be an “average” teenager. Too boring in my opinion. Nothing really happens that is out of the ordinary. Nothing really changes, the mind does not fully stretch it’s boundaries when your “average” I have never been average. I remember from the early age of two feeling “different” no, I am not talking about the cliche but accurate saying that gay and lesbians use where they say: “From a young age I’ve always felt different.” That statement is true but what I mean when I say different is I knew my life was going to be headed towards the gates of test, after test and the excruciating pain of not knowing and wanting to know. I admit my whole life has been lived in that nagging speck of fear that’s permanently glued to my thoughts. I probably should be medicated, I know I should. But what is that going to solve? Ha, someone just drugs me up to gloss over the fact that I’m fucked. I hate using that word when I write. Of course I use that in my daily language numerous amounts of times but still, it’s a distasteful word to use in literature. In my opinion when writers use that word they slip down to less then a bad writer. If I ever read a book and the word “fuck” is in anything else other than the dialogue I close the book. It’s lost it’s quality in my opinion. Speaking of books I think I am going to take a trip to the library today and pick up a few books. So for now I shall say goodbye, I’ll be back soon...if fate allows it...

Abbey

November 13, 2010 2;19pm,

I’m at the library with Crystal now, the best thing about our quiet uptight suburban community is our library. It’s huge and extremely old. It’s been here since the late 1700’s I believe. Crystal loves this place almost as much as she loves me…you can see it in her dark, mysterious eyes. They seem so filled with life as she searches the bookshelves looking for her next injection of author’s words. She’s addicted to paper I think. I mean her side of the room has a strong smell of fresh cut paper and pencils. She even smells of paper mixed with roses and fresh cool water. Right now we’re in the historical fiction section. She loves reading about the princesses like she always says: “Books like these give you the secret satisfaction of staying in your childhood forever.” I wish we could have both stayed five and six forever. Those were the best times of my life…Crystal is sitting at an old wooden table writing and flipping through an enormous brown thesaurus at the same time. I wonder what she writes…she never lets me ready anything that she has written. Every time I ask if I can read any of the three, 500 page novels she has written she always says: ‘When they are published one day you can read them.” Mother always nags her about when she is going to publish her novels and which publishing company she is going to use. Mother says if you pick the wrong publishing company you won’t make a lot of money. Crystal doesn’t care about the money. She says that she even feels greedy for accepting money from giving knowledge. One time when Crystal was asleep I snuck over to her side of the room and had a chance to read on of her novel titles before she awoke. The title of the novel was; “Castle in the land of the lost” I wonder what that’s about. Maybe she’s writing about a princess or maybe a prince…no, she would never do that though. Well I guess it’s time for me to go. My arms cramping and Crystal is beckoning me to come and search for another injection with her.

Crystal

November 13, 2010 6:29pm

Today has been pure perfection. I awoke to the girl that I am deeply in love with and just an hour ago I was waltzing in the back of this dusty old castle filled with books. He he, It was beautiful. I wrapped my arms around her lovely elegant soft but statue like figure and she wrapped hers around mine. You see, at about five o clock the library gets very empty and the librarians are usually too tired and to concentrated in there 1000 page novels to worry about what two teenagers are going to do in the back of an old library. Anyway I was searching to songs we both liked (It’s extremely hard when one of you likes more modern rock and alternative music and the other likes old classic rock) I mean I like the lyrics of the songs, the lyrics are beautiful to almost every song she listens to, but the rhythm of the song I just can’t get into. So anyway we decided on one of our favorite bands which happens to be the lovely Secondhand Serenade. It was funny how it all started though. I had my earphones in as I was writing the next few pages to my novel, and using a thesaurus to hopefully broaden my vocabulary and I guess Abbey got annoyed that I was ignoring her (which I really never do) so she started doing what little children do when they feel ignored, they try to get attention. Well first she started playing with my semi-frizzy coal black hair and when that failed to succeed she started to flip the pages of thesaurus to make me lose my page, but It actually only helped me to find new words to use. Last but the most effective technique is that she snatched the earphones out of my iPod and the song Twist in my story by secondhand serenade began to blare. How ironic right? So she started giggling and running around with my earphones until I grabbed her, but the weirdest thing happened, instead of pulling away she moved closer and wrapped her arms around me and starting dancing slowly. My heart began to melt and we slowly danced with the old fashioned lamp peering down on us and hundreds of thousands of books became our audience. She even kissed my cheek a few times. It was perfect. I bet she could feel my heartbeat as it raced when her soft lips touched my burning chocolate cheeks. Right now she’s curled up in a ball in the chair next to me with her head in my lap. We should be going soon. I remember what happened last time I stayed in the library too long. Lets just say that was a very sleepless alert night. So I’ll be off. We shall meet again my fellow audience member of this abnormal lovely musical.