I absolutely hate getting a new chapter started. The page is blank and it's daunting, and you know you have to fill it up. The actual things you want to say come easily, but where to start? So many thoughts circle around your head like ghosts, and you reach out and grab one, but it slips away. And these ghosts are all shaped like Alex. Anyway, that's why it has taken me so long to write another chapter. That and because it is hard to deal with, hard to think about. The closer it is to you, to your heart of hearts, the more difficult and distressing it becomes. Needless to say, writing this is also dangerous, lest the wrong people find out. Yet, worse than that is, I believe, is the idea that I may not be understood. I am writing this tale so that someone could possibly understand my side of the story, realize my dilemma, and sympathize with me. The psychologist I was seeing, I did not trust to tell of the true cause of my anxieties. Perhaps he would have been understanding, but I didn't take that chance.

Speaking of Japan, as I did last chapter, I have read that there is an old Japanese legend that says star-crossed lovers who died with their love unfulfilled return as siblings in the next life. The fates are cruel. Too awfully cruel. And yet, perhaps not as cruel as society itself. Society lets you be with certain people, lets you love certain people. And true, it depends on the society, but as I said, no society allows incestuous relationships.

Of course, I was not yet in a relationship with my sister. Yes, I did say "yet", because I am dumb enough to actually get into one. It was her idea though, and in fact, I shall directly relate the circumstances.

It was a few days later, and I couldn't sleep. I'd begun to have odd sensations, as though someone were calling for me, but when I listened very intently, I heard no one. I began seeing things flitting out the edge of my vision. And I was still consumed with thoughts of Alex. All this added up to restless sleep, something I would worry about more had it been during the school year. As it was, I was sleeping in more than usual, which my parents chalked up to just being a normal teenager.

Anyway, rather than just lying in bed, terrified out of my mind for no particular reason, I had found it more easy to deal with my current state by getting up and walking around. I walked out of my room and to the kitchen, where I got a glass of milk to help me get to sleep. As I was pouring it, I heard footsteps, and, in alarm, I dropped the gallon of milk.

Whenever I drop something, time seems to slow down for me. I don't know why, perhaps my reaction just speeds up greatly. Yet that cannot be it, because I usually cannot react to do anything other than cover my ears because I hate the loud sound of something hitting the floor. Indeed, I hate loud sounds in general – why do you think I hate vacuum cleaners?

This time however, I was so afraid of disturbing my family that I did react quickly – I cast a levitation spell and kept the jug from hitting the ground. It didn't even spill as I magically set it back on the counter.

"Using magic for mundane purposes? I'm impressed," Alex said, walking into the kitchen in her pajamas. You will note that in most fictionalizations, the chronicles are portrayed as being wrong in her style of night attire. Most of the fictionalizations, in attempt to be sensationalist, have her wearing something skimpy and even somewhat slutty. However, this is far from the case. The chronicles are very close to accurate in their depictions, excepting that they cannot use brand names on them. That is why they never showed the Hello Kitty pajamas that Alex was wearing right now. (Although they did mention a "Hello Pony" blanket – this was of course a pun on Hello Kitty because they could not use the name.) Anyhow, these pajamas are long-sleeved, long-legged and pink and white, with Hello Kitty on the top. However, they were somewhat old, so they were kind of tight and formed an almost capri effect – this also caused her curves to be accentuated, and she very nearly caught me staring when I looked back at the milk.

"I didn't want to spill," I said sheepishly, blushing. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She didn't actually need a haircut, it was a style these days, or something like that. As the Pocket Elf once said, I had 80s hair, so I wasn't exactly up on the whole "style" thing. Still, I absolutely love various hairstyles on girls, and that was one that I was ashamed to admit that I liked. Ashamed because hair styles should not matter, and also because my little sister had it.

She approached me then, coming closer. I still hadn't replied. I didn't quite know what to say, as she had caught me at an awkward time, so I let her brush by me (sending a shudder up my spine!) and she got her own glass of milk.

"I, er, couldn't sleep," I managed.

"Me neither," she said, setting down the glass of milk and licking the milk mustache off of her upper lip. I firmly believe it was a calculated move on her part – she seemed to move her dainty tongue slowly around in circles, and I was transfixed as she had turned directly toward me while doing it. I blushed and turned away when I realized what was going on.

"Alex, about that, er..."

"Hmm?" she said 'innocently.' It was a perfect tone of voice to really attract me. It pretended to sound innocent but we all knew that it wasn't.

"Remember when we, um, kissed?"

"It's been hard to forget," she said, walking over toward the couch. I followed her. Why, I don't know, but I did it anyway and now I cannot undo it. She sat down, and I sat on the opposite side of the couch. But this didn't matter to her – she moved over toward me and put her head on my chest. "I think we should date."

"Alex!" I had said in a loud, angry whisper. "We...we can't. We're related! It would be...incest."

"Incest is all relative," she said, dismissively.

"We really can't. There are many rules you break, but this cannot be one of them. This is pretty bad, even for you."

"I know, I'm just a bad girl," she said, sitting up, but turning toward me. "So you're telling me that you don't want this?"

Without warning, she kissed me again. I had a chance, at that point, to pull away, and say "No, I don't want that" and probably, the whole ordeal would be over with. But all I did was relax into the kiss, and then, even worse, I pushed her down on the couch such that I was lying on top of her, before pulling away, a small sucking pop as our lips parted. Alex giggled, but I reconnected my lips to hers, ready to kiss her again.

And that was when I was irrevocably damned.