Squick Alert:
Contains sibling incest.
This is my submission for the
Literotica Winter Holidays Story Contest 2024
. Please enjoy!
By now, you should know the drill. Everybody getting laid is over eighteen and capable of providing consent.
This is a work of erotic fiction. The persons and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.
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It was the kind of wake-up nobody wants. A rough hand on my shoulder and a parent's worried voice.
"Norm. Norman. Wake up. Carrie's been in an accident and we're going to the hospital. I'll call you as soon as I know something, okay?" Carrie was my sister, probably my best friend, and the one person on this planet I never wanted to lose.
"Gimme a minute, let me get dressed. I'm going too." I was now wide awake. I threw back the covers and rolled out of bed as Dad closed the door behind him.
I could hear him tell Mom, "He wants to go with us."
"I'm not sure --" She sounded stressed.
"They said she was stable. It will be okay."
I threw on sweatpants, a T-shirt, and some old running shoes I used for house slippers. They were waiting by the stairs and we all trooped down to the garage.
Dad drove like every demon in Hell was on his ass. My phone displayed quarter after two in the morning. Shit, she broke curfew again. There would be hell to pay now.
The emergency room waiting area was empty when we arrived. The admitting clerk buzzed us in and told us which bay we would find her in.
She looked like shit. Her face was swollen, her left eye was almost invisible from the swelling, her nose looked funny, and bruises were starting to develop. Her head was completely wrapped except for her face and she had one of those huge neck braces.
Tears rolled down her face as our parents hugged her carefully and told her it would be all right. I squeezed her hand and she wrapped her fingers around it in a death grip and wouldn't let go.
Carrie had just turned eighteen the month before. A senior in high school, she was ready to graduate next month. She had been really looking forward to it, too. It meant an end to curfew.
The doctor came and checked on her and then pulled my parents out into the hallway, away from us. They kept their voices low so we couldn't hear what was said. I could tell they were upset but still relieved at what the doctor told them. Carrie never let go of my hand the entire time.
The three of them came back and the doctor explained the findings that they had so far.
Carrie had sustained a fractured nose, jaw, and cheekbone. They had a call out to a specialist to evaluate her for corrective surgery since her jaw and cheekbone fractures were slightly displaced. They were waiting on his evaluation before resetting her nose.
She had also chipped some teeth and suffered a concussion. She would be admitted so they could observe her and provide some pain treatment.
A police officer was waiting for the doctor to finish before filling us in on the accident.
The driver of the car Carrie was in was making a left turn against the red arrow when a drunk driver blew through his red light and hit them on the driver's side rear quarter panel. Carrie had been seated behind the driver. The side of her head smacked the little pillar between the driver's door and the little side window.
The drunk driver was unhurt except for bumps and bruises from the airbags. Carrie's friends were also just banged around a little and scared shitless.
They sent us home eventually while she was wheeled upstairs. The specialist would repair the fractures and reset her nose sometime tomorrow.
The next morning, Dad was on the phone early, trying to get insurance information and police reports. He also called our health insurance to find out what was going to be covered.
Mom was just a wreck. She was worried about her daughter and pissed that she had been out that late. On school nights, we had a ten o'clock curfew. Non-negotiable.
Carrie had snuck out. It certainly wasn't the first time she had done that. It was going to be a while before she was in any shape to do it again, though.
We went back early in the afternoon. They had determined that it was safe to operate and it had been scheduled. The surgery went very well, minimal fixation was required, and we were able to see her shortly before the end of visiting hours.
There was plenty of bad news to go along with the good news. She was withdrawn from school on doctor's orders to allow her to rest and heal. No graduation this year. That wasn't the worst thing to happen to her, either.
We had been told there would be scarring from not only the procedure to fix the fractures but also from the removal of the hardware. None of the insurance companies were willing to pay for cosmetic surgery to remove the scars. To make matters much, much worse, she developed what they called keloids, making the scars blindingly obvious.
Carrie was pretty, always had been. She used to make jokes about her "pretty privilege" and how she could get guys to do whatever she wanted. The keloids gutted her. She tried everything to get rid of them but nothing seemed to work. She refused to leave her room with her face uncovered.
The school district allowed her to sit out the fall semester while she healed. Our parents put their foot down finally. She would have to return to school for the spring semester and graduate or find someplace else to live. I thought that was harsh but was quickly told that it was none of my business.
Carrie finally settled on a solution, extra-large sunglasses, which not only served to hide the scars from her surgery but minimize her nose deformity to some extent.
From my parents' perspective, her "deformities" weren't serious. They were only cosmetic and she should just accept reality and live with it. To her, they were hideous, she thought people stared constantly and made fun of her behind her back. Yeah, people talked about it but mostly because she made such a big deal out of it. For the most part, nobody paid that much attention. She really didn't look any different to me, she wasn't horribly disfigured or anything.
During the winter and early spring, her disguise worked for her. She still only left the house for school and that was it. No parties, no dates, no socializing at all. She had to be going stir-crazy, being cooped up in her room because our parents eventually forbade her sunglasses in the house. They insisted she needed to adjust to it and she continually refused.
For some unknown reason, when the house was built, they had placed a fake balcony across the back of the house. There was no door to access it, just my window and Carrie's. Since it faced the backyard, we had never decorated it.
Starting from the time we moved in, I would hang out there at night during warm weather. Carrie used it to sneak out at night. I had swiped a beer from my father, he had just stocked up and wouldn't notice one missing. I was hanging out, relaxing in the breeze and enjoying my spoils when Carrie's window opened and she quietly climbed out. She turned to look at my window and froze. I was stretched out underneath it, can to my lips as I froze in shock at the sight of her. She put her finger over her lips and I gave her the thumbs up. She was sixteen and I was fourteen at the time. She climbed down off the balcony and disappeared into the night and I finished my beer.
After that, it was our secret. Some nights, we just hung out. Occasionally, one of us would score alcohol and we shared it. That was how I fell in love with my sister. At night, stretched out in shorts and T-shirts, we talked about things. Boys, girls, what we wanted to be when we grew up, what we hoped our lives would be like. She wasn't stuck up or bitchy, she was a little self-conscious about her looks, how hard it was to be popular, things adults sneer at but to a teenager, they might as well have been life and death.
There were people that she liked and wanted to be friends with but she had to be careful, not only because she would be mocked but they would be bullied and harassed. She hated to see that happen. She hated going along with the charade but it was the lesser of two evils because deep down, she liked being popular and pretty. It was expected.
The first halfway decent night during the spring, I opened the window and climbed out to stretch out and enjoy the sky. I heard her window open and I felt actual joy. She was going to come out and hang out. We didn't get to do much of it inside, she hated wearing the glasses any longer than she had to, and she refused to be seen without them if she could help it.
I laid there, anticipating actually getting to talk to her, when something hit me in the chest. I fumbled around, turned on the flashlight on my phone, and found a pair of super dark wraparound sunglasses.
I heard a loud whisper, "Put them on."
"Why?" I whispered back.
"Because you're already outside. Put those on and don't take them off until I tell you to."
I couldn't see a fucking thing through them, not even from the corner of my eye. "Okay, they're on."
I could hear the rustle of her clothes as she climbed out the window and the low scuffling noise she made as she crept over to me. I felt her hand on my shoulder as she sat down next to me. A cold can was pressed into my hand. "I brought you something."
I carefully cracked it open and offered her the first sip, a tradition of sorts. It would be as close as I would ever get to kissing her on the lips. She took the can, I heard her swallow, and it ended up back in my hand. I took a nice long sip, the taste of her lip gloss mingling with the beer. For some reason, it tasted different. Better.
