Freedom

Note: This is part 2 of a 2 part story. The first half is already posted. In that story siblings Nicole, Brandon, Tyler and Victoria were held hostage by a woman named Iris. She forced them to have sex with one another. However, the siblings were rescued by the police and Iris was killed. This summary really doesn't get the flavor of original. If you haven't, go back and read that first.

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Part 2: Freedom

It was almost a year later before I had to see my siblings again. At least, I mean, in person. Actually, from that day with Iris forward...I saw them constantly. I saw them every time I closed my eyes. Every single dream that I had was about them. I couldn't run away from that day...it was tearing me apart.

Maybe, strangely, it would have been easier if there had been less secrecy about the whole thing. If everyone had known what we had done so that they could judge me and hate me. So that I wouldn't have to.

But the police had made certain that no one would know. As soon as they calmed us down and figured out that we weren't working with Iris, they were very kind to us. They looked the other way while we got dressed. I am sure they suspected from just looking at us that we were siblings. And when they saw our identification they knew it. But, tactfully, they didn't say anything about it. They saw how...shattered we looked. They put two and two together. They knew that Iris had been playing some sort of sick game with us. I guess that was part of her criminal history as well. I don't know, I avoided learning anything about her. I don't even know her last name.

And they were very kind. If they were laughing at us or disgusted, they hid it well. When we made it to the local sheriff's department, the police explained that Iris was dead and that, as a result, there wasn't going to be any trial, for the liquor store robbery or...anything else. In fact, it wasn't really necessary that anyone know that a sexual assault had occurred unless that was what we wanted. As far as the police were concerned, no one ever had to know what had happened in our hotel room. They would simply tell the media that Iris had taken four hostages.

At the time, I felt so incredibly grateful. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like if the world had found out about...it. In fact, I was so shell-shocked that I hadn't even really thought about that until the police had brought it up. I can't even remember how many times I thanked them. They grew more embarrassed each time I spoke. My siblings as well. But they made good on their word. As far as I know, none of them so much as told their wives or husbands about it. In all the media reports and articles about our ordeal...there has never been the barest hint of a whisper.

And, I suppose, that is a good thing. I still don't know what would happen if everyone knew. If they could picture me and my sister and my brothers...the way we were. But, as time has passed, I wasn't so sure that the silence on the subject was really helpful. No matter how hard I wanted to pretend that nothing happened. I couldn't. Part of me wondered if the world would somehow be able to forgive me if they knew...everything that happened. But I knew that I couldn't just forgive myself.

Maybe that feeling...that knowledge all went back to one thing that the police sergeant said to me that early, early morning in the sheriff's office. Thankfully, my brothers and sister were other rooms and I didn't have to avoid making eye contact with them. I was sitting in a chair, wearing my clothes again, and I had an officer's coat wrapped around my shoulders. I was shivering even though it was blazing hot outside and probably 80 degrees in the office. The sergeant was sitting on the edge of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at me with a sympathetic look on his face. I don't even remember what he had been saying before, but one thing he said was tattooed into my mind.

"Listen sweetheart," he drawled seriously, "This is going to be...a real bad day. But you're alive. You need to be happy about that. And when you get back home and all of this is in the past, you need to remember that you and your sister and brothers, you all don't need to feel nothing about today. Anything that happened, happened because Iris demanded that it happen. You don't have anything to be ashamed about. You didn't choose to do anything." And even while the words were coming from his lips, I could see myself, in my mind, beckoning Tyler over so I could...suck his cock. I heard Brandon getting up off the floor so that he could fuck our sister. I dropped my head. I knew my choices.

My siblings knew their choices too. There is really no other way to explain what happened next. The police demanded that we go to the hospital, to make sure that we were alright. The nearest hospital was almost 100 miles away and we asked to be transported separately. When we reached the hospital, we asked for separate rooms. I heard that all of my siblings were, like me, being treated for shock, from the doctors. I didn't speak to them the three days that I was there. I didn't speak to them even when my parents arrived, crying and apologetic for some reason. I think they were so scared, shocked, and relieved that we were okay that they didn't really notice that they saw us all separately.

I only saw one of my siblings the entire time I was in the hospital. It was on the second night. I got up to walk to the cafeteria. Halfway down the hallway, Tyler turned the corner. He was holding a bag of chips and, when he saw me, he froze. We were about twenty feet apart but our eyes locked together. For a brief moment, I flashed back to see myself on my hands and knees in front of Tyler, eyes tilted up looking into his while I sucked his dick. I felt my cheeks get red and saw that he was blushing as well. We both dropped our eyes. Without thinking we both turned. I fled back to my room. I don't know where Tyler went.

When we were all finally released from the hospital, I declined my parent's invitation to go to California with them. I told them I need get back to work and they seemed to buy it. They wanted to take me and my siblings out for a nice dinner before we all split up, but I declined, saying there was no time. I heard later from my mother that Victoria was the only one who made the dinner. She was also the only one who went back to California with them. Tyler got a flight back to school and kept going to classes. Brandon stayed out West, in Arizona or New Mexico or something. Got a job. I got a ride back to the sheriff's office near...the motel. Thankfully, someone had moved my car there. I drove home. My parents wired me money somewhere in Texas so I could afford the trip back.

And so I lived for a ten months, completely untethered from my family. It felt like a dream to return to my "real life." When I first got back to work, everyone had seen the news reports and they fretted over me and asked questions. When it became clear that I didn't want to talk about it, people left me alone. And, in a shockingly short period of time, everything sort of went back to normal. I went to work, I went home, I ate, I slept. I did it again.

But under the surface, nothing was normal. I couldn't stop thinking about that night in the desert with Iris. Everything reminded me of it. I felt my face tighten into a grimace at the strangest times, only to realize that I was relieving certain, horrible moments of that night in mind. I would have incredibly vivid sex dreams in which my siblings would do things to me that they'd never actually done. I'd wake up, terrified and aroused. Then ashamed. In fact, I was aroused often. My thoughts were constantly on sex. Sex with my siblings. And while these thoughts made my cheeks red and my stomach tight, I still felt a...positive reaction that I couldn't control. It just drove the shame deeper. Because of my fear and my shame, I never did anything about that arousal. I certainly didn't want a lover and I couldn't even bring myself to masturbate, I was too afraid about what I'd think about.

Soon, I had cut off contact with my friends as well. I spent any free time I had, depressed, in my home, trying to think about anything but Iris and, usually, failing. My skin had faded from the deep tan I used to cultivate to a nearly alabaster white. I had been losing weight, mostly because I was forgetting to eat some days. Only the fear of losing my apartment kept me going to work. My entire life was now built around what I'd done with my siblings, and the fact that I couldn't get over it.

I spoke to my mother maybe...once a month on the phone for as short an amount of time as possible. Despite the hints that I dropped that I didn't want to hear about them, my mother would often tell me about my siblings. From what I gathered, they were struggling as well. Victoria had decided against going to school. She was living full-time with my parents in California and, I guess, spending most of her time in her room. Brandon was working as a bartender and had been fired from several bars. I guess that he was drinking almost as much as he was selling. Tyler's grades, apparently, had skyrocketed at school but apparently the rest of his life was basically non-existent. No dates, no friends. He studied twenty hours a day and, unlike me, had put on a little bit of weight. Mostly from sitting and snacking while he worked. I felt for them...I really did. But I couldn't think of them. It raised too many other issues.

I guess I figured that this was what the rest of my life was going to be. As the months went by, the pain and the shame I felt never began to heal. It stayed as raw as it had been when the police officers had knocked open the door. I didn't feel any growing desire to re-engage with the world. I didn't want to see my family again. I figured that, despite the constant pressure I felt from my experience, that I was at least strong enough to survive. And that was really all that anyone could really ask out of life. To live, no matter how terrible it was. I wasn't happy by any stretch of the imagination. But I was stable. Sort of stable.

That bleak plan for the rest of my life fell apart about nine months after our night with Iris. I had gotten home from work (where else?) and got my computer. I am not allowed to check my private e-mails at work. When I checked them, I saw that my mother had e-mailed me that morning. In fact, she'd sent a group e-mail to me, my sister, and my brothers. She explained that in two weeks it would be my father's 55th birthday. She was organizing a party in Los Angeles. Victoria was already there (though she was included on the e-mail), and she demanded that Brandon, Tyler, and I make it too. I could see return e-mails from my brothers, trying to beg off attending. I saw my mother's reply e-mails explaining that attendance was mandatory. This exchange apparently went back and forth all day until, finally, my brothers accepted that they didn't have a choice. They agreed to go.

I sat in front of the computer for a long time, just starring at the e-mail chain. My breathing was ragged and my heart was fluttering in my chest. As I read my brothers' e-mails, I could hear their voices in my head. I could see them. I could...feel their bodies inside of me. I could see my sister reading the exchange as well, I could see her disappointment as she realized that my brothers were going to be there, that my mother wasn't going to let us alone. I could feel her breath against the skin of my ass. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and my stomach was knotted tighter than it had been in months.

For a moment, I considered simply not answering. I could just...disappear entirely now. I didn't really want to talk to her or anyone else anyway. But even as I thought this, icy tendrils of guilt were wrapping around my heart. No matter how right that felt, in a larger sense it would always feel wrong. I could only run so far. I had to think about what was happening realistically.

My mother was demanding that I come to visit her. What was worse, she was demanding that I be in the same room as my brothers and my sister. She clearly didn't know...what we'd been through. But she knew that something was wrong. My dad's birthday was a pretext (he never ever made a big deal about it and got annoyed when we did). She wanted us to be together. And, more than anything else in the world, I wanted that not to happen. But, just like my brothers, I really didn't have a choice. What was I going to do? Tell my mother everything? My fingers trembling, I typed a return e-mail.

"I will be there," I wrote. And then I closed my computer and cried.

* * * * *

Two weeks later my mother picked me up from the airport. I don't even really remember the flight, I was a giant bundle of nerves the entire time. I could barely breathe. The flight attendants had thought I had a fear of flying and made all sorts of suggestions to relax me. But none of it worked. I couldn't even get a drink, I was too nervous that I would throw it up. By the time my mom wrapped her arms around me at the baggage claim, I was jittering and shaking all over. I knew that I looked like hell, but my mom beamed at me and smiled. She pretended that I didn't notice that I looked miserable.

She drove us back to her new place from the airport. I'd still never been there, but I was no longer interested in finding out what it looked like. The whole time I was just mortified, knowing that in a few minutes (or hours, it would seem, given the traffic) I would be seeing my brothers and sister again for the first time since that terrible night. To make matters far, far worse, my mother babbled on about them during the entire drive, updating me on everything that each of them was doing. Each little tidbit crushed my stomach further and further down into my shoes. I was lightheaded by the time we pulled into my parents' new apartment building.

As we got out of the car and my mom opened the trunk for my bag, I saw my dad standing on the sidewalk in front of the building. He was smiling genially and waved when I saw him. I waved back nervously and took my suitcase from my mother.

"Good to see you string bean," he said. I furrowed my brow, "You lost a lot of weight I mean. You're thin. Need some of your mother's food." He said nervously, not sounding like himself.

"Happy birthday," I said weakly and my eyes darted up to the building. I wondered if they were all inside. They were supposed to beat me here. My father hugged me.

"Thanks," my dad said, sounding like he wasn't even really concerned about his birthday.

"Well our apartment is No. 610. That's the sixth floor, left wing," I heard my mother say behind me. I shrugged.

"Just show me where it is," I said, starting to walk up the stairs. My father didn't move, he was shaking his head.

"No can do, kiddo," he said, sounding like he was straining to sound happy, "We have a...previous engagement." He looked over at my mother pleadingly.

"Your father and I had plans for tonight. Made them weeks ago. A romantic dinner and a movie for his birthday. We are doing the family celebration tomorrow. But the drive from the airport took longer than I thought. We are going to miss our reservations. You just go ahead up. The door is unlocked and your brothers and sister are already there," she said and I nearly gagged.

"No, I mean I can't..." I said quickly before I even thought about what I was saying. My mother's brow furrowed, our mannerism so similar.

"Why not?" She asked. And it was clear to me now that this was a setup. The whole thing. She wasn't dressed up for a fancy dinner. There was no way that they had a reservation for, what was it? 4:25 in the afternoon. They weren't that old yet. They had sensed that my siblings and I were not getting along. This was some sort of trap. They just had no idea what they were doing. If they did...

"I haven't even gotten to catch up with you guys," I said. The only thing I wanted to less than hang out with my whole family was hang out without our parents. My mom smiled and shook her head.

"We will have plenty of time for that this weekend. But your father and I really have to go now. We are sorry, but go talk to your siblings. I know they must miss you as much as you miss them," she said and a slightly pained look crossed her face. But before I could say anything else, my parents quickly got into their car and drove away.

I stood for a while on the sidewalk in front of my parents' apartment, holding my suitcase. It was unbearably hot outside and I was already starting to sweat a little. I looked up at the building, knowing who and what was inside. I wanted desperately to run away now. To just drop my bag and sprint from this place as fast as I could. But where would I go? What would I say about it later? Once again, I really didn't have a choice. With chills running down my back and my mind reeling, I entered the building.

I sort of moved up through the building in a haze. I wasn't even really sure how I got to the elevator, pushed the button, or rode to the sixth floor. In the end, I was just suddenly standing in front of apartment 610, the three bedroom apartment my parents had purchased when they retired. My brain was jumbled thatch of nerves and self-loathing. I didn't knock, I just walked in.

My parents' apartment opens up on a large living/dining room with an open-concept kitchen to one side. Directly ahead of the front door is a sliding glass door leading out to a small concrete balcony. This was, by far, the largest area of the place. But it was totally deserted. My brothers and sister were not there. I let out a sigh of relief and dropped my bag on the floor.

"Who is that?" A nervous voice asked down a hallway to my left. Victoria's voice. I felt it stab into my guts.

"Nicole," I said, my voice wavering. No one responded. I looked down the hallway now and I saw three doors, my parents' room and two "guest" rooms. I immediately determined that each of my siblings was in a different room. Avoiding one another. I guessed (it would turn out correctly) that my sister was hiding in our parents room. A deathly stillness hung over the apartment now. I could hear my own shallow breathing and I could feel the blood rushing rapidly through my veins. I was frozen at the door, uncertain what to do.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I noticed one of the doors crack slightly. I instinctively held my breath and my muscles locked up entirely. My eyes grew wide and I looked towards the opening door. After a moment, my brother Brandon's face peaked out from the room. It took me a moment to recognize him. He had grown a full beard in the last 10 months and there were deep circles under his eyes. Those eyes looks so sad and tired, I couldn't bear to look at them. Maybe I couldn't look at them for other reasons also. Regardless, I dropped my head.

"Hi, uh. Nicole," I heard Brandon say, his voice familiar but in some ways different. More melancholy.

"Hi Brandon," I said in response. There was, again, a long silence. I looked up nervously and saw that he was also looking at his feet.

"So...uh," Brandon said after a long time, "I am in here. In this room. Victoria and Tyler are here too," then his eyes got very wide, "Not in this room!" he said quickly, "They are each in...a different room. We talked and thought maybe you'd like to hang out in the living room while we wait here. Don't worry, we won't bother you. We are staying in our rooms. There is a TV in the living room. Mom and Dad will be back in a bit." Brandon sputtered out the words quickly and, as soon as they were done, he closed the door. He wasn't so much asking if I wanted to stay in the living room. I was being ordered to stay there. But I didn't mind, that suited me well. This was the best I could hope for. I turned, once again toward the living room.