My eyes are closed, but I'm still awake when Deb sneaks into my room. She's been doing it a lot lately, but she thinks I don't know. And since Deb has her pride, I let her go on thinking I'm fast asleep. She is squirming around on the floor and it's a wonder that she thinks she fools me. It's a good thirty minutes before I hear her breathing deeply and I slowly open my eyes and roll onto my side to look down at her.

She started sneaking in here when Mom got sick. I don't really know why, but I guess she thought it was helpful, because every couple of nights she was in here again. By the time I woke up in the morning she would be gone and I'd spend the rest of the day pretending I hadn't heard her mumbling in her sleep.

But now it's been two weeks since the funeral and she's been in here every night. I wonder if she'll be able to sleep when Dad and I go hunting next weekend. I almost told him that we shouldn't go, but then I could feel that darkness creeping into my veins and the blood started pounding in my head and I knew the weekend couldn't come soon enough.

I've tried to convince Dad to let her come along before. After all, it's just hunting. She doesn't need to know more. But he went on and on about how Deb wouldn't understand. How I have to protect her from myself. How I'd have to make sure she never knew anything.

It doesn't seem fair really. Because Deb has known me forever. She loves me and she protects me. So why would this be so different? I mean if I can't help it, like Dad says, then it's just a part of who I am. And Deb always says she would do anything for me. Dad says this isn't my fault, so then doesn't that make it better?

Deb shifts around and I shut my eyes automatically. If she wakes up and sees me looking at her I know she'll get mad. As long as I can remember I've watched Deb. Sometimes I just stare at her. Because I find her so completely fascinating. She always seems to feel something. And she feels it with such force I think it might actually jump right out of her. And that's so strange to me because I don't think I feel that much. I mean it makes sense since I'm a monster. But I so rarely feel anything and when I do its very few things; anger, frustration, burning need to kill. But Deb seems to feel everything. Every look, every smile, there is so much lurking behind it. So I stare.

And then Deb sees me staring and she gets mad. Just a few weeks ago she was asleep on the couch in the middle of a dream, or maybe a nightmare. She was frowning, mumbling, her brow furrowed in concentration. And I wondered how she could be so emotional even when she was fast asleep. So I leaned over her and watched. But then she woke up. And she punched me. I actually saw stars.

And then, instead of apologizing she tore into me.

"What the fuck Dex?!" Deb towered over me as I sat on the floor and prodded at my sore nose.

"You punched me." I checked for blood while I looked up at her.

"Were you fucking watching me sleep?"

I looked up at her, pretty sure that if I said yes I would be getting another good punch. Instead I tried to change the subject. "Were you having a bad dream?"

Deb glared down at me, her anger reaching a boiling point. "Stop being such a fucking creep!" she screamed before she bolted out the front door.

When she came to dinner a few hours later I worried what she might say to Dad, but she didn't say a word until after we had eaten.

"How's your nose?" Deb asked me so quietly I could barely hear her over the running water as we did the dishes side by side.

I lifted my fingers and massaged it gently. "I'm just glad you didn't break it."

Deb lifted her gaze to mine and laughed quietly. And that was it, all was forgotten and we were back to normal.

So now I'm hesitant and I open my eyes again and look down at her fast asleep. Tonight she seems peaceful and she's not talking, so maybe there are no nightmares. A piece of hair which has fallen over her face is tickling her nose. I can see her nose wiggling away the irritation. I reach down and gently slide the piece away. I don't let go of it immediately, letting the silky strands slide against my fingers.

As I keep watching her, it suddenly strikes me that she no longer looks like a little kid. She's still Deb, but she suddenly seems so grown up. Her lashes are brushing against her cheekbones and her full lips are slightly parted. I find my gaze sliding down her frame. Unnervingly I'm noticing her breasts and her long legs and I find that I like them.

I frown at the direction of these thoughts and turn onto my back, my gaze resolutely on the ceiling. I've always thought Deb was pretty. But these thoughts are…different. And they're not right. I'm sure this isn't normal. But then again, I'm not normal either. I rub my eyes and take a deep breath. This will be another thing that I will ignore. Because it's bad enough that I want to kill things, but it's much worse to be attracted to my sister.