I didn't ask for something like this to happen. I never wanted to hurt them… I'm their big sister, so I should be happy with their happiness. But for some reason, when I see them together with one another, my chest swells with a frightening emotion I've never felt; loathing. I knew I loved her more than anything in the world, but when did it twist into this sick kind of need? I can't answer myself when I ask that question…

I watched Natalia sit on the stairs to Ivan's house in the dead of winter, her fingers bleeding from the cuticle from when she had tried to tear down the door, the scratches on the wood carrying bits of flesh and nail and specks of blood in it. Ivan wasn't home, but he probably had forgotten to tell her, and she probably was imagining he hated her once again. It was odd to see him return her feelings, and it was even stranger for him to initiate the kisses between them. I could have used my key to open the door, or I could have asked her to come home with me, but I couldn't understand why I enjoyed seeing her in so much pain. I knew it was unfair of me to feel that way about them, but I couldn't help it anymore. My little sister was being taken from me once again, but this time it was by my own brother. When he pulled into the drive way, I watched him run to her side and pick her up, his face twisted in worry and agony as he entered the house with my sister in his arms. I pulled out of the little alleyway and into his driveway. I stepped out of the car with that painful anger in my heart, and had to force my childish smile on my face. I walked in without knocking, causing Ivan to turn back and smile with relief. He waved me over and pulled me to my knees next to him, and asked me what he should do to make her feel better. I asked what he wanted to make feel better.
He said Belarus.
He wanted Belarus to feel better.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek before smiling warmly at him. "Get some water, braht. Cool, please, and a rag." I whispered, snaking my arm under the blanket covering her frigid body and grabbing her hand. I rubbed it between my palms, her fingers twitching back to life in a few minutes once I was moving on to the other hand. I knew she was tired and hurt from his disappearance, and it angered me he had continued with some of his old habits from when he feared her. If he was going to love her, the least he could do was tell her where he was going!
I sighed, rubbing a hand on my forehead to calm my frustration, which in turn only angered me more. The embarrassing issue with my anger was that it caused me to cry uncontrollably, and everyone made the assumption I was simply over emotional, as if I could never feel anger or hatred. The tears were dripping from my chin to my lap, and I bit my lip to keep from gagging on words that I didn't want to pour out. But I looked up and wiped them away when Natalia ran a hand through my hair, her fingers warm and gentle, not calloused like my own.

May was always warm in Natalia's home. It was humid and damp from the large lake in Minsk, but it didn't bother us at all. We were sitting on a large white picnic blanket; a wicker basket lay open in the middle where the wind had knocked is over. She lay her head on my lap and fell asleep, her eyelashes slapping her cheeks whenever she winced from whatever nightmare she was having then. The sun was setting on the horizon, and my fingers were interlaced in her hair as I hummed an old lullaby. She opened her eyes sleepily, her mind registering who I was and where we were as a flash went off behind us. Before I could even turn, she had torn a knife from her garter belt and thrown it into the lens of the camera, and the photographer screamed as he ran. I was shaking.
"Vanya doesn't want us together. He says it's dangerous." She whispered, her eyes full of disgust as she pulled me by my arm down the street. I hadn't asked her what she meant when she said that, but she never gave me time to. She slammed the door to her house loudly and locked the seven locks on it. I watched her in confusion as she shut and locked all the windows and closed the blinds and curtains. She ran around the house and tore it apart, finding two cameras in her room and kitchen and tore them apart.
"N-Natalia! What's going on?" I asked, unable to remain silent and confused any longer. When she marched back down the steps, she looked out a set of blinds and lay her pistol down on the coffee table. I had no idea she even still owned guns after the Cold War. She grabbed me by my wrist forcefully and pulled me to the kitchen where there were no windows and there were no doors. She hopped up onto the counter top and patted the spot beside her, so I jumped next to her. She gave a heavy sigh that worried me. "I told him I felt it unfair to Katyusha to be together." She stated seriously, staring hard and long down at her hands that were wringing the hem of her dress. "He says to stay away from her or else. So I have disobeyed him."
I suddenly felt that emotion again. It was strange how I could feel something like that towards my siblings, but I couldn't control it when my brother was trying to keep my sister from me! I felt my tears overflow once again and internally cursed myself, until I felt something soft caress my eyelids. I opened my cerulean eyes to see Natalia's lips hovering over my eyelids. My tears could have consumed our lungs. Why would she have kissed these watering eyes? And why would she have kissed my lips so gently, as if I were fragile enough to be broken in her fingers? Her hands rested against my aching chest, massaging gently through the cloth of my white button up. As if she could have done anything more deliberately to defile me, her older sister, she slipped her tongue inside my mouth without even asking for entrance. I could not allow her to disrespect me any further than she had already done!
I slipped my hand under her dress, rubbing my palms against her thighs, moving them up to clasp her butt before I moved my hand to the inner part of her thigh and massaged her groin, feeling the thin cloth of her underpants rubbing against my fingertips. She was rigid, her entire body stiff, before she slowly maneuvered her legs so that my hand was encased, and she hesitantly nodded her head.
"Belarus?"
Our heads snapped towards the childish voice with sudden realization. Russia was standing in the doorway to the kitchen staring with a horrified, yet almost vacant expression in his eyes. I turned my head to Natalia, who shook her head.
"I tried leaving you… You wouldn't let me go…" She mumbled, hopping from the counter top the kitchen floor with ease. I followed suit, wondering what I could do to protect my youngest sibling. She walked by him, though, and opened her door.
"You could see I was busy. Good bye, Vanya."