Go with the flow

Nicholas lay beside his sister on her pink and floral flounced bed, and wiped tears - evidence of his guilt and grief - away from his eyes. Stacey, beautiful Stacey... The young man reverently traced the outline of her cheek with his fingertips: she was still warm but her flesh was already cooling beneath his fingers. Nicholas slowly ran his hand over her parted lips and down her neck to rest between breasts still firm with youth, tantalisingly outlined beneath the expensive and sheer silk sheath dress she'd worn especially for the occasion. There was no rise and fall of her chest, no sighing intake of breath at his touch, no welcoming smile. Stacey was dead and he was supposed to have died with her. Fresh tears spilled hotly over the young man's eyelashes – it was testimony to his cowardice that he still lived.

They'd always been together. Less than a year apart in age they'd been born in quick succession so as to give their corporate mother the least amount of time off, the least inconvenience for all concerned. But if having children was going to be a burden to their parents why had they bothered to conceive them at all? The company Yvette and Eric Coleman worked for prided itself on it's benevolent 'family values' image. There were bonuses and incentives for the – married - employees who produced children; Eric had received a promotion after the birth of his second child and Yvette had gained a pay-rise and a new car.
       Nicholas and Stacey barely saw their parents though, except for the odd meal here and there and the obligatory company picnics where they were trotted out with everyone else's children like prize dogs. For the most part they were left to the care of a succession of nannies and 'early childhood development' specialists. They had everything they could need, materially at least, but it was hardly surprising they'd turned to each other, the only constant in their lives, for love.

Nicholas could remember quite clearly the day he realised his sister had become his world. It was Stacey's fifteenth birthday – he was already sixteen – and their parents had taken them to a chic little restaurant for a birthday dinner. Both of the children had behaved as expected, being charmingly polite and quiet, outwardly a credit to their parents but inwardly... They were so close, so... intimately connected to each other they could communicate without words, and what Stacey was saying with her brief glances and small smiles was that she couldn't wait for these strangers to finish fulfilling their parental obligation, go away and leave them in peace! Unseen beneath the white on white jacquard tablecloth, Stacey's small hand crept up Nicholas' thigh to briefly caress the throbbing bulge of his groin. This was a game they'd started playing a few months ago, discovered by accident, with skills and sensations slowly, tantalisingly being learnt when they had the opportunity. They weren't completely naive, sex-education was part of the curriculum of the company-funded school they attended so they knew the basics and that what they were doing was considered wrong. But what was the problem? The point was stressed in the lessens that sex was (could only be) wonderful between a couple who loved each other. Well, they loved each other, didn't they? It had been a time of breathless discovery for them both but what they couldn't have guessed – given the general coyness of the study material – was how... exciting this sex business could be.
      The evening drew to a close, finally, and their parents dropped the children back at the apartment in good time to catch a taxi to the airport – there were meetings to attend early the next morning that they couldn't afford to miss. With every show of weariness, Nicholas and Stacey allowed themselves to be put to their separate beds by the current nanny, then lying awake in the dark, the almost tactile bond thrumming between them, the siblings waited for the interfering old woman to fall asleep.
       The resounding snores from the nanny's end of the corridor told Nicholas that the coast was clear and he crept out of his room and in to his sister's. Stacey, naturally, was awake and waiting for him, her blue eyes gleaming in the soft glow of her night-light. She licked her lips in nervous anticipation: they'd promised each other that for Stacey's birthday they'd experience the bliss of a full sexual union.
       Nicholas had never felt so loved, so cherished than when he sank into his sister's warm softness but that was nothing compared to the overwhelming sensation of sanctity and sublime wholeness he experienced when he climaxed inside her. Inside Stacey, not in her mouth or by her hands – it was something Nicholas would later remember as a profound, almost religious experience. Certainly it was a more consuming love than what they'd been taught to feel for a remote and judgemental God.
      And then his sister was shuddering beneath him, caught in her own fulfilment...
      They lay together afterwards, arms about each other, bellies, groins and chests pressed close, sharing their breath as they gazed into each other's eyes.
       "I love you." Stacey had murmured, stroking his face.
       "I love you too," he'd replied, knowing then that right or wrong they belonged to each other.
       As always, they set Stacey's alarm clock for a time long before their nanny would wake (so Nicholas could sneak back to his own room without comment) and spent the night wrapped together in loving comfort.

They kept their love secret from everyone. Not even those that considered themselves to be their friends knew anything about it. To all appearances, Nicholas and Stacey were perfectly ordinary teenagers. The pair strove to be as innocuous as possible in public, to not give anyone any reason to pry into their private lives. It was ridiculously easy to keep their mother and father at a comfortable distance: as long as the siblings worked hard at school, got good grades and gave no one cause for complaint, there was no reason for them to come to their parents' attention. The brother and sister were popular at their small school, both generally perceived to be friendly, likeable 'nice kids' who were willing to help out. They were model students, model citizens, assured of a place in the company when they left school – the future looked bright.
       Alone together at nights, Nicholas and Stacey had whispered discussions about ways to divert attention from their relationship. They concluded that they – Nicholas especially - needed to behave like their peers. It was fine, desirable even, for Stacey to not show any interest in 'boys' but at sixteen Nicholas was expected to begin dating. He did, taking a few of the other girls out, even having sex with a couple of them. But he felt nothing for them, none of them could stir him like his sister could and the experiences were empty. Not that any of his 'girlfriends' realised this, though. Nicholas was always polite and considerate, certainly more so than his friends were to their girlfriends. He always let the girls down gently, knowing how much he'd hate it if Stacey was treated badly.
      His sister, however, let no one close enough to do any such thing. Over the next few months Stacey gained a reputation for being something of an ice-queen, frostily disdaining the advances of the clumsy boys. Nicholas watched all this from a distance, the knowledge that his sister was anything but ice with him allaying his hidden fears that she'd take someone else into her bed.
       Time flowed by for the siblings as they juggled the two halves of their lives, always cautious of discovery - and then a miracle happened...

Nicholas had turned seventeen and at the ubiquitous birthday dinner with his parents their father had announced that because they'd shown maturity and common-sense the children could live on their own, they didn't need a nanny. Nicholas and Stacey's sedate smiles didn't betray their sudden elation. Finally, at home at least, they could be themselves, live as they wanted to.
       The next year was blissful. The siblings were like a newly-married couple. They redecorated the apartment, spending hours poring over colour charts and furniture catalogues, they went shopping together, learnt to cook for themselves, cuddled together on the couch to watch movies and made love wherever and whenever they pleased. They slept in Stacey's room but kept Nicholas' room set-up as 'cover' in case anyone came to visit. In fact, unexpected guests were the only thing they had to be wary of, but everyone they knew was schooled in politeness, even their parents, no one ever arrived unannounced. Aside from the need to be merely brother and sister at school, life was idyllic for the young lovers. It couldn't last of course.

Every year a 'guidance counsellor' came to the school to help the senior students along their chosen career paths. It was a formality and Nicholas hadn't thought twice about it until half-way through his first session when the counsellor's friendly, easy-going attitude had subtly changed. The blandly pretty older woman had blinked, her smile freezing on her face and Nicholas knew, though he didn't know how, that the woman had discovered his secret. Shortly afterwards she'd ushered him out of the office with another ready smile, but her eyes were closed and she didn't offer him the handshake he'd seen her give the boy before him. Nicholas' mind was reeling: what had he said? What had he done to give it away? He desperately needed to talk to Stacey but that wasn't going to be possible until after school. Stomach churning and head pounding with the effort of keeping his expression pleasantly neutral, Nicholas sauntered back to his class. It was the longest afternoon of his life.
       He told his sister everything the moment they were safely at home. Stacey trembled in his arms as Nicholas brushed loving kisses over her hair, reassuring her that everything was going to be all right.
       Their father dropped in unexpectedly that night.
      He stared in horror at his children sitting demurely, passively, side-by-side at the dining table, but couldn't find anything to say for long minutes. Finally Eric Coleman cleared his throat.
       "Stacey – you'll be going to a finishing school in Europe. The day after tomorrow. Be packed and ready."
       And then he left without a word though lingering at the doorway to cast one final, appalled and disbelieving look back at what he'd spawned.

"I'm not going to let them separate us!" Alone again, Stacey let her deep distress show. Sobbing, she clung to her brother, her beautiful, pointed little face buried in his chest, fingers digging into his biceps.
       "Shh, Stacey, it's okay, it's not going to happen." Nicholas was aware of the hollowness of that promise. What could he do to prevent this calamity?
       "That's for damn sure." she gazed steadily into his eyes. "I'll die first..."

She'd been deadly serious, as Nicholas found out the next afternoon when they got home from school. It'd been a tense day, he'd been alert for any change in attitude towards him, but his friends and teachers had behaved as they always had. It looked as if the news hadn't leaked out into the general school community but how much longer until it did? He was smart enough to know that life would be unbearable when that happened. After their father had left last night he'd tried to talk to Stacey about it, tried to stress their need to make plans. Maybe they could just leave? They had enough of their own money between them in trust accounts to get far away... But his sister hadn't wanted to talk. There'd been a mindless desperation to her lovemaking, as if she was trying to drown out everything except her body's responses, as if she was trying to get as close to him as she possibly could. It'd been unnerving but at the same time exhilarating.
       And now he was experiencing a completely different type of rush as Stacey emptied out her school bag to reveal several packets of vari-coloured tablets. He stared at her, open-mouthed.
       "Where did you get all that?"
       "I have contacts," Stacey shook her head dismissively then turned the full force of her personality on him, "Let's do it, Nic, let's show them they can't keep us apart."
       Close to hyperventilating, tendrils of white crowding his peripheral vision, Nicholas heard himself respond.
       "Yes. Fuck 'em."
      Stacey beamed beatifically at him, pressing her lithe body close to his, subtly rubbing her breasts against his chest. She kissed the corner of his mouth.
       "Let's make our last night special."

They'd ordered in an extravagantly expensive meal, snuggling together on the couch and laughing as they shared a bottle of excellent wine and fed tidbits to each other. Then they'd made love right there in the living room, slow and gentle with a poignancy that almost penetrated Nicholas' buffering sense of comfortable, safe distance. It was like he was watching a movie or something, this wasn't happening to him - it didn't feel real. Stacey ran a deep bath for them, making liberal use of the softly scented bath-oils she favoured, and they'd lingered there making love in the water until they were both limply sated. His sister lifted her head from his chest and smiled at him with such love that Nicholas' thought his heart might burst.
       "It's time." she whispered, blue eyes wide and exultant.
       Nicholas almost, almost, refused. He wanted to dissuade her – there must be another way to settle this, they didn't have to die! – but Stacey was vibrant, luminous with joy and Nicholas' will crumbled. She wanted so much to have this ultimate control over her life, how could he refuse her? Nicholas nodded and let his sister pull him out of the bath.
       Grinning like a little girl, Stacey had rummaged through her clothes, finally choosing the simple dress of shimmering blue silk. Nicholas stood by, wrapped in that feeling of unreality again, and watched his sister shrug into her dress. She smoothed the folds down over her body then turned to him, tilting her head to one side.
      "Get dressed, Nic." Her eyes glittered weirdly. "We're going to do this with dignity."
       He did as she commanded, fumbling for something suitable, relieved at her nod of approval.
       "God, Nic, you're going to make a beautiful angel." Stacey giggled at her joke then took her brother by the hand and led him over to her – their – bed. She sat down, tugging at him to sit beside her then reached for the first of the packets...

Nicholas would never be sure exactly what happened next, how he'd managed to simply sit there and watch his sister, his lover, suicide and not try to stop her - or why he hadn't taken any of the drugs himself. He wasn't even sure that Stacey hadn't realised he'd not followed her example, but she'd swallowed a good handful of the drugs before he thought to move. She lay down then and he'd stretched out beside her, tears spilling unheeded down his cheeks as he sat the short vigil, waiting while the other half of his soul faded and died...

The faint, silver-grey light of the pre-dawn was subtly competing with the dim glow of the lamp when Nicholas bestirred himself from his sister's side. He stroked Stacey's cold cheek, suddenly loathing himself with such intensity it was a physical pain in his gut. He was weak and useless, a pathetic, timid creature not fit to live but too scared to die. Unaware of the keening sounds he was making, Nicholas yanked open the top drawer of the bedside table, fumbling around blindly until his fingers met cool steel. He sat staring at the nail scissors for an unknown length of time, his mind curiously blank, and then moving spasmodically, Nicholas shoved the tip of the blades deep into the back of his hand. The pain blossomed out, blanketing the pain of his failure and self-loathing for a blissful few seconds. Panting, he watched the dark blood well up and trickle down between his fingers. There was a primeval beauty in the sight and something... clicked within him. There was a way to make amends, and the longer he lived the more he could atone for his weakness.
      Nicholas leant down and kissed his sister one last time, stroking her hair and smiling sadly into blank eyes. Then he pushed himself off the bed and walked away from her, out of the apartment and away from everything he knew.

Go with the flow – Queens of the Stone Age.

She said "I'll throw myself away,
They're just photos after all"
I can't make you hang around.
I can't wash you off my skin.
Outside the frame,
is what we're leaving out
You won't remember anyway
I can go with the flow
But don't say it doesn't matter anymore
I can go with the flow
Do you believe it in your head?
It's so safe to play along
Little soldiers in a row
Falling in and out of love
With something sweet to throw away.
But I want something good to die for
To make it beautiful to live.
I want a new mistake,
lose is more than hesitate.
Do you believe it in your head?
I can go with the flow
But don't say it doesn't matter anymore
I can go with the flow
Do you believe it in your head?

© 2003 November 29^th Lutra

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Darkside



© 2003 Wordwrights