Casey decided that she did. She refused to admit it at first, but now the feeling was stronger than ever. It was almost like….she had a crush on her brother. No. It was more than that. She was in love with her brother. And he would never know. She could never tell him. Or anyone. She had to keep it inside of her forever.
It was wrong on so many levels. She tried to push the feeling away, but it refused to leave. She even pretended to try to like someone else, but she couldn't. The feeling was too strong, and too real. She lived and breathed it. She lived for that icy chill that crawled down her legs whenever she saw him and she knew that she was thinking of him in a way she never should.When he was in his room blasting his music, she thought about it. When they fought, she thought about it. During rehearsal, she thought about it. And she barely slept. She thought about it almost every second of the day and almost every second of the night. It was wrong, but she couldn't help it. It was incest, but as months went by, she became obsessed with the word. And soon, she grew accustomed to it. She didn't care about the rules anymore. She knew the world thought it was wrong, but she didn't understand anymore.
They didn't know each other. Or, they did, but not really. Or anymore. Either way, it was killing both of them. At least, it was killing her. Slowly, painfully. And slowly, as all of the memories from the past faded into ashes, she changed. She kept her real persona, of course, buried under layers and layers of stone and brick and ice. She didn't tell anyone how she was feeling. Because she couldn't. She knew deep inside that it would have to stay inside of her forever, digging a hole that can never be mended. It stabbed her every day. And she only hoped that he would never find out. His life didn't need to be ruined as well.
But her life wasn't going to be ruined. That wasn't possible, because she was an artist. An artist who forgot who she was and forgot her real passions…an artist who forgot the advice of a wise teacher in fifth grade, "don't let boys distract you." And she never thought she would fall in love with someone she wasn't allowed to love. She didn't realize it until near the end of her junior year, but it had been there for a long time, hibernating. Why couldn't its sleep be eternal? Why? It was hard for her, this feeling gnawing at her every day, and for a long time she tried to push it away, pretended she loved other boys; she even tried not talking for about a week. As if that would make the feelings go away. She had thought it might. She had even tried pretending to hate him. Even though she was supposed to love him, just not the way she did.
But that was what she didn't understand. Love. She didn't understand love, and its rules of differentiation. What was the difference between romantic love and harmless love? Kisses and physical stuff? Passion of the body, not the mind and soul? She saw love differently from the rest of the world….and thus forth she banned the world's rules. If something was dark, or forbidden, she was drawn to it, and the ironic par was, she was drawn to it because she could see a light, a beauty, in it that most people were blind to. She could hear music that most people were deaf to. And every day a question burned her flesh: isn't love supposed to be pure? Isn't love supposed to be about two people who couldn't live without each other, and would do anything to protect each other? Two people who have a secret language and speak in code and two people who giggle as they're holding hands running in the rain and screaming at the top of their lungs because they feel like it and there's no one stopping them and forcing it to stay buried, tearing apart every inch of their being….and two people who pretend together and can get so absorbed with nonsense but it's okay, and two people looking for fossils and getting their clothes wet and two people running around the world and two people basically being crazy and not caring whether or not the world saw. And maybe later, kissing. But that wouldn't be what mattered. Not two people bodies with missing souls. Vacant bodies. Vacant souls. No. Eew. Shiver. That is what should be "Eew". But most people don't see it.
And one day she realized, walking home on a humid day sweating practically to death, angry at her father, practically stomping….and then screaming, "So what! So what! So what if they find out! So what!" But if they….her family….found out, it would be a nightmare. She would never be able to talk to them again. Or look them in the eye. Especially him, she could never look him in the eyes again. She would be so humiliated and ashamed and depressed and nervous and angry and weak all at the same time.
No, no one can ever find out. No one can find out about the dark-haired girl with orbs of the Universe for eyes…so blue and so vulnerable….with the slim silhouette that almost disappeared when she turned sideways and that ethereal smile she tried to always wear and pallid skin covered with make-up, who had a story that she could never tell. No one could ever find out, because it was completely taboo; completely forbidden; completely disgusting. She hated it herself.
One day, she would forget. She swore, one day she'd find someone else, maybe even that boy that she uses as the code name for the one she really loves. One day, she'd be happy again. And she'd be successful. A actress again, and a writer. But more than that. An artist who can color in the shadows of the world, and bring hope back to the place where despair threatens to lead the people of the world astray. And a historian, in all the secrets that can never be told. And never tell anyone. Because she would die if someone revealed her secret.
One day, she would be over it. In a year. One year. One day she would be gone. Not dead. More alive than ever, actually. At one of the ivys, studying ancient history (because it's the people before technology that holds the secret of the world. The key to humanity. The reason for all being. Unity. Truth. Harmony. Allegiance. And, of course, sword-fighting.) and maybe even in a sorority.
Yes. She was all the more sure of it now. She wasn't going to some state university or some average school. She wasn't going to the places most of the losers from her high school were going. Well, they weren't losers. At least, most of them weren't. A long time ago she had convinced herself that they hated her, and made fun of her behind her back, and to her face. Maybe she was right. Maybe she wasn't. Looking back, she realized it doesn't even matter. The ones who would truly be there for her, she might meet later. Or they were right in front of her face. Her family, even amidst its rage and fighting and mock-hatred and money-problems and insecurities and evil-father-sagas and bla bla bla. None of it would matter, in the end.
She smiled. In a year she would walk out the door, completely free. Completely, finally free. Maybe not forever. But it would be a start. And she would call him on the phone. He would miss her. They all would miss her. She would regret that she never found out if the feelings truly were one-sided. And she would feel bad about that day when her mom almost guessed and he was in the car too and she said…well, lied…."I don't love him"….when of course she did, and she hoped she didn't hurt his feelings. All of the times she said she hated him, to block out the feelings, and then later telling him that she could never hate him, even if she wanted to. Always apologizing.
No. She would never know if he felt the same way. But maybe it was better that way. Because if he did….then what?
