Changes of Opinion


'What am I doing?' he asked himself as he made his way to his sister's bedroom door.

The sobbing was more audible now, she was clearly upset. He knocked twice on the door.

No reply. He knocked twice again.

"Fuck of Jon! I don't want to talk." Was the shouted response.

"Are you Okay?" He shouted sounding concerned.

'Are you Okay? Are you fucking mental? Of course she is not okay, she is right now in her room crying her eyes out and here you are asking if she is okay. By god man you are fucking stupid – rush into her room and give her the biggest hug and kiss her like she is not related.' His mind contemplated. 'Fuck you thoughts'

"I said fuck off! I don't want to talk. Not to mom, not to dad and especially not to you. So fuck off!" Was the shouted response.

"Come on, Rachel. I hate to see you upset."

"Oh, Really. What the fuck are you going to do? Hmm? Tell me everything is okay, that everything will all work out? Well guess what – it's not okay, nothing is okay. Life is shit. And since when the fuck do you care about me?"

"Hey I care 'bout you."

"Like fuck you do. If you really cared about me you'd..."

"I'd what, what can I do that show I care?"

"Just fuck off! Leave me alone."

Finally getting the message he returned to his room. The darkness once again filled his mind. It broke his heart that his sister – the girl he loved with more than his heart and soul – was so upset and breaking down in her room no more than a couple of feet.

He watched the mirror on the wall looking at his own reflection, 'I look normal on the outside, too bad people don't see the fucked up me on the inside'. Several times he saw his sister walking down the landing to the bathroom with a wad of paper towels in her hand and mascara running down her face.

'Even at her worst she still looks beautiful.' He thought to himself.

She never once looked in his room, she took the old and bunched up paper towels she had been using and then came back out with a new clean bunched up towel before going back to her room, at least now she didn't slam the door shut.

Jon went down stairs to the living room, it was no use being upstairs in his room where he couldn't do anything but at least down here he could occupy himself and take his minds away from his distraught sister. What had made her so upset, and what was all that about "especially you"?

'I know people don't say what they want when they are upset but the thought is still there, there is meaning behind the words the only difference is usually those words are not said. Had I done something wrong with her?' Questions and questions plagued him, so many questions and no answer to any.

She stayed in her room most of the morning and by the time the clock turned 5:00 p.m. she was brave enough to venture down the stairs and look at her brother. Carefully she stepped down the steps her feet feeling as if they were tied down with weights. Her stomach churned and she had to fight back the reflex to run back up the stairs and cry. Her eyes stung from the crying and mascara and her throat was raw. She had changed from her uniform and gotten into loose fitting denim jeans and a grey shirt that was one size too large so it did not show off her body. Her eyes and face were caked with dried lines of mascara and her lipstick had begun to run and smeared.

She opened the living room - stairs door and stared at her brother who had turned around to look at her. Her heart pounded in her chest to the point that it was uncomfortable. Her legs became like rubber and she feared she was going to collapse, her stomach hurt more than ever and tears welled up in her eyes. She burst out crying.

'Oh god.' thought Jon. 'What have I done?'

She turned around to run back up the stairs but Jon grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down so she was standing facing the settee. He led her by the arm around the settee and pulled her down so she sat, he was not rough, he did not want her to do something she didn't want to do. But come on, enough was enough, answers were needed and he had the questions.

He put his hand to her face but she jerked her head away. He did so again but this time more firmly, with his thumb he wiped away her tears smearing her mascara across her cheeks. She sniffled but did not cry. His touch to her face almost set her off again but she managed to compose herself and stopped before she knew she could not. Her cheeks burned where she felt his thumb move across and her whole body had the onset of a sudden heat flush.

Wiping off her tears from her face he placed his hand on her hand holding it sympathetically. Her hand was cold. Her nails were not painted but had flecks of removed paint where she had been biting her nails. He looked into her eyes and fixed them so she would not look away – she didn't.

"What's the matter, Rac?" He asked. Using her old nickname from when they were younger. Their parents told him he could not say her name properly after an accident where he came off scooter and could not speak properly, that was the name he used. Whenever he used the nickname it always caused her to giggle – which until recently he thought she had an annoying laugh – but now it was a beautiful laugh. Too bad she did not laugh, she gave a small smile but no sound escaped her lips.

"Nothing." She replied in a barely audible voice, so quiet even a microphone could not have picked up what she said.

"Come on, I know something is wrong, I know you better than anyone else in the world." He said looking in to her eyes and becoming aware of his hand holding hers. "You know you can tell me anything."

"It's nothing." She replied.

"It's got to be something. Nothing doesn't make beautiful girls cry." It was probably overkill to call her beautiful but that's what she was... beautiful. In all essence of the word right there in that moment, even all covered in streaks and tears. Jonathan Moore thought his sister – Rachel Moore – was beautiful.

She smiled at the compliment and unconsciously squeezed his hand in thanks. Jon was aware of the squeeze but left it alone.

"Well..." She began slowly telling her story of how she came home more upset and in despair than ever before. "I was talking to Ashley--" Jon thought for a second to recall this Ashley character, attending his old high school there were approximately twenty Ashley's' within the top three year groups and five of those had been in his year, out of those five only two were male. He let her carry on, the details of this were less important than the overall plot. "-- Ashley was best friends with Lucy Aldman, they had a massive argument and never speak to each other anymore. Well Lucy told Ashley that she used to date you and that you had sex with her. She told me that Lucy told her all about it, how big you were and that you were really loving and caring and gave her a ring as a gift because you loved her."

A frown of disgust rose across his face. It was a sour look the kind someone gets when they have a lemon or a sour treat that makes the face scrunch up in horror.

"She wishes." He said even spitting out the words because they tasted bad in his mouth. "Lucy told Dave --" One of Jon's group of friends. " -- that she had a crush on me but I turned her down because she was mean with you. She did try to give me a handjob once but I just walked away."

Rachel smiled inwardly. She knew that Jon would do such a thing if he thought that Lucy was actually being mean to her – and truth behold she was right – Lucy had once spread a rumour around the P.E. lockers that Rachel had a fungal infection so she could not go swimming, the teacher even pulled her out of the class thinking it was true. Which was a shame really because Rachel loved swimming and could have been the best in the class, if not the school.

"Well why did you get so upset about this?" Asked Jon slightly confused. 'If she had been told a lie then she had a reason to be mad at him but she completely lost herself.' He silently thought to himself.

"I guess I just took it to heart." Rachel lied.

Jon suspected more, people don't go to mass hysteria when they "Take it to heart", they cry, they cry some more and finally they ignore the person of the lie till there is a weird confrontation. He pressed further.

"That would explain the crying but not the explosion in my face when I tried to talk to you."

"I was angry at you."

"But why were you angry at me?" Jon asked. "Because you thought I had sex with the girl you hate?"

"Well there was that..."


Rachel looked at the entwined hands on the settee besides them both. Summoning up the courage she decided to speak her mind – screw the rules – if she never told him her feelings then she shouldn't have them.

"Well I thought you didn't love me and if what was true you wouldn't love me." She said meekly.

"Rac, I'll always love you." As he said the words he knew he meant them and that he had a hidden meaning. Part of him hoped she would pick up on it.

Rachel could have cried in joy when he said he loved her. Her stomach tingled with butterflies and she hoped desperately that he would continue but she knew he meant it in a brotherly way.

"Yeah, I know that but I love you." Rachel summoned all her ounce of strength to say what she wanted to mean. "... more than I should."

To Jon it was like a slap with a fish. You never expect it to happen and when it does you get the full on hit. His sister had just told him that she loved him, more than a sister should love a brother. Did she fancy him as he did her? What does this mean for their future? Again, too many questions but not enough time to answer.

He was stunned. His mouth became dry and he wanted desperately to tell him his undying love for her and how they were to always be together. Instead he gulped what little fluid his mouth accumulated in the corner.

The look of his sisters' face was more than he could handle. By saying nothing he knew immediately that she feared the worst. But it wasn't true. He loved her more than his own life but it shouldn't be that way, their love was wrong, shameful but more than that it was illegal.

Her face consorted to a wide open gaped mouth and a look of fear, panic and rejection.

'Of course he doesn't love you. After all who would love you, miss got-no-friends, no boyfriend, heck you're even a virgin. Who wants to be boyfriend of the geeky Rachel? Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Maybe it was all best hidden. Oh, god, what if he tells mom? What if he never wants to see me again?' Rachel thought her head was going to explode.

The sudden feeling of dizziness flushed her body and every morsel of her being told her to run as far away as she could. She ran to her room, sobbing and crying all the way to her door before slamming it shut and jumping on her bed burying her face in her pillow.

Jon stayed downstairs afraid to move. Maybe all she needed was time. 'Yeah right, you idiot'


When their mom came home later Jon was sitting on the settee and Rachel was in her room, doing whatever.

"Hey mom." Jon said as she came fully into the living room. "Had a good day at work?"

"Wasn't too bad. Thank you. How was your day?" she replied.

'Oh you know the usual, stayed home, thinking of my sister riding me like a bronco. Then when she does come home she's mad at me and when I ask her why she tells me she loves me. And you want to know the ironic part? I love her, too bad the only problem is I'm a chicken shit who can't say it to her and so now she hates me again.'

"Good thank you."

She went into the kitchen and placed her coat and bag down before coming back into the living room and sitting down beside him. The TV was off. Unusual why would he be sitting here not doing anything?

Jon quickly thought of an excuse as if reading her mind. "I was on the laptop and didn't want to waste electricity. Oh, we're on emergency by the way."

It was a good excuse and prevented a further interrogation.

The TV was turned on and they sat down and watched an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Three minutes later his mother walked into the kitchen and started making dinner – she preferred making dinner rather than have them cook their own as she liked being in the kitchen always trying new recipes and spices with herbs.

At 6:30 p.m. dinner was done. A simple meal of mash, peas, and Yorkshire pudding with sausages.

"Rachel dinners ready." Their mother called from the bottom of the stairs.

Rachel had locked herself in her room, although her mother did not know this. When the call for dinner echoed across the landing she dreaded the worst. She physically thought she was going to be sick, she repeatedly heaved but nothing came.

"I don't want anything to eat, I don't feel so well." She called back. It wasn't technically lying, she was feeling dreadfully sick and thought if she tried to eat she was going to bring it all back. Mostly she didn't want to be in the same room as her brother – the one man she loved ever since she was young but didn't love her back.

"Well then it'll do some good if you eat." She heard the reply

She literally thought she was going to faint from worry and had to sit back down on her bed. After a minute of constant debate in her head she came downstairs to see her mother and brother sitting at the table in the dining room. Her mother had a worried look on her face actually believing that her daughter was sick and not dangerously close to jumping from the roof in sorrow. She made a comment about not looking so well but insisted that she try to have something to eat.

There was a spare chair laid out besides her brother.

She looked at him. She wanted to hate him, she should hate him. Yet no matter what her mind thought she knew she could never hate the man she loved. Jon attempted a small smile more of an ice breaker than anything else but Rachel shot him a cold icy stare that sent a shiver through his heart – her love for him was gone – he thought.

They ate dinner in silence and Jon volunteered to clean the table and do the washing and drying while their mother went to get changed out of her work clothes and his sister would go back to her room to avoid him for the rest of the week, if not the year.

She did go back to her room, only to collapse on the bed in another round of tears.

Jon remained downstairs, the more space they put between them the better. 'God, I know nothing about women.' He thought.

He never even considered putting the TV back on and sat staring at the black screen letting his mind fill with thoughts that quite literally wanted to make him cry. When his father came home his sister was called down once again so that they can spend some times together as a family.

She could avoid him no more – every time he was home they were going to bump into each other. She made the choice she couldn't live there no more.

They watched TV together as a family, Jon sitting on the far side of the settee and Rachel sitting the other determined not to be close to one another. Luckily for the siblings their father did not stay awake much longer and so they all went to bed rather early that night.

His door opened to his room. He himself had been sitting on the edge of his bed with his head held low in defeat, he had lost his love. He brightened when he saw the familiar figure of his sister come into his room. Her steps were hesitant almost as if she was reluctant to even be near him.

"Rachel, I'm so sorry." He whispered.

She did not speak. She stalked closer.

She was wearing her night dress that she was wearing last time she came into his room. God she was beautiful in the moonlight. He never even bothered checking her body out, he stared into her eyes the entire time she came closer. His hand reached out to grab hers but grabbed nothing but air. He sighed.

"Rachel I do love you, with all my heart." He said, he chose the words carefully and precise.

She did not speak.

He reached out once more for her hand and once again received nothing more than air. He sighed – she may be in his room but she wasn't here for him.

"Come on Rac say something." He pleaded.

"Shhhhh." Was the reply.

Without saying a word she pulled her night dress over her body freeing once again her marvellous body. Jon was too guilt ridden to bother about looking at her body and his eyes remained fixed to hers.

She never even bothered saying a word as she grabbed his boxers and tugged them down to his ankles. He wasn't even hard. Unceremoniously she grabbed his limp cock and stroked his member. Within a few strokes he was hard. Again, without a word and unceremoniously she straddled on top of his body and crashed down on to his cock. She bounced up and down all the time one hand was furiously rubbing and pulling at her breasts while the other was rubbing at her clit.

She moaned and screamed without a care in the world, but her face was not showing the usual signs of love when they coupled but showed instead... nothing.

It was if she wasn't doing this because she wanted to but she needed to, no more than to scratch an itch, she instead needed to orgasm and her brother was no longer her lover, now he was just another toy to be used whenever.

Jon couldn't believe what was happening to him. The love of his life was now working away having sex with him and he couldn't read her. At that exact time she could have been doing laundry or even playing a video game.

Her riding became faster and her moaning louder – for a second Jon thought his parents would hear her moaning, hell even the police might turn up with the shouting. She rubbed at her clit more and more, faster and faster. One thing was certain – she was nearing her orgasm.

Her body did not convulse this time. There was no scream of ecstasy or pleasure wracking every nerve in her body. If you weren't paying attention at the time you might just think that there was a small shiver due to the cold of the night.

She stopped, lifted off and then got dressed. Without saying a single word she left the room.

Jon stayed in his bed just lying still looking at the ceiling. He never felt more used in his life – there was no love that night it was nothing. It was cold and made him feel sick. He closed his eyes and cried. He hoped the next morning would be different.

Jon stared into the blackness of the room. The images of his mind haunting him – did she really despise him that much? Was he nothing to her? A slither of a tear ran down his cheek and soaked into his pillow case.

'Please god. Make her love me again. Help me love her. I'm so sorry I messed up.'

The darkness surrounded his senses. Lying in pitch blackness he heard a sound downstairs. Quickly he flipped his alarm light on and looked at the time: 2:00 a.m. the sound was the small creak of the living room – outside door opening and then closing. Too quiet for someone to be checking outside almost as if they didn't want to be heard. "Oh, my god we're being robbed" He said out loud to no one in particular. He threw off the covers and jumped to his feet. He grabbed his little league baseball bat from its trophy spot on his desk and ran down the stairs skipping two at a time.

He burst through the door to find it empty and the soft glow of headlights shining against the curtains. It would not be unusual to have lights outside the window but these were more intense. He opened the curtains and stared out the window.

Their parent's SUV was backing out of the driveway. Headlights shining bright blinding him from looking inside the window screen. The car turned off the drive and stopped as the occupant changed the gear. He peered with all he could into the window of the vehicle. Tears streamed freely down his face as he looked at his sister.

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