Sister Mindfucker

Or from anyone.

"I don't know if I can forgive him," I said, sniveling.

"You don't have to," my father assured me.

I let myself be engulfed by a three-way group hug in which my parents clung to me, seemingly to heal themselves.

I wondered if they could smell my brother's sperm as strongly as I still could.

"What can we do?" Dad said. "What can we do for you to make this better, my love?"

"Well... " I said.

Nineteen

"There you go, sweetheart," said Mom, sawing off a generous slab of the chocolate cake she'd just finished frosting. "Are you sure you don't want to eat it up here with your Dad and I?"

"No, I'm going to take it down to my room, if that's OK."

"Of course, darling. Everything is alright, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm doing a little better every day. Although I keep getting the flashbacks."

"I know, sweetheart, it is going to take time to process the trauma. You can tell everything to the new therapist when you see them - even the parts you wouldn't want to tell us. It's completely confidential."

"Thank you Mama," I said. "Any word on how Christian is doing?"

"He wrote another letter to your Dad from the rehab center. He sounded contrite and taking responsibility for the first time," she said, "which is progress. But his journey is going to be a long one. He'll be in the program for at least another three years, so we can't expect overnight miracles. But you mustn't worry. For as long as you're living under our roof, he will not return to this house."

"Thank you, Mama," I said, heading downstairs to my bedroom.

I had gathered a finger-full of buttercream and was sucking it into my mouth.

The basement room was much more awesome since I'd taken it over. I had painted the walls a better color, and got rid of the cheesy band posters.

And it was nice to finally be able to play Nintendo without having to share every alternate game with my dork brother.

I got myself cozy in his bed with the chocolate cake, and un-paused the movie I'd been watching.

This is the life, I thought, delivering a forkful of sponge into my face.

I do miss him a bit sometimes.

If that's what the feeling is...

It doesn't last long.