I think it'll eventually become a joke, how I don't enjoy writing incest stories, yet I have a lot of them, and they're the only ones that I have posted so far. This idea came to me when I was... Admittedly a little encouraged by alcohol, and thinking of why people enjoy watching porn, or morbid things online... What if someone was twisted enough to enact what they saw or thought of in reality?... Enjoy(?))
*****
Intro
I can't be the only one who's wondered what it would be like to see the things that were pushed into my head. I refuse to believe it. My mother always called me stubborn... once something popped into my head, I almost refused to let it go until it was a reality.
The vision of me standing on a valedictorian podium never got out of my head, the thought of owning a shop never got out of my head, the thought of beating my competition never got out of my head...
Watching two grown men fight like wild dogs over a sweet and innocent girl... seeing said men kill each other brutally never... left... my... head.
More strange things popped into my head... and I knew that if I had decided to let them continue without any attempt to stop them, they'd only get worse.
I'll admit the thought of what people would think never bothered me... but losing my home, my shop... eventually my family... I didn't want that...
For years I tried my damned hardest to ignore the thoughts circling through my mind... but something in me changed when I saw my two kids playing in the yard when they were young.
There wasn't anything specific or strange about it. They were just playing some game in the yard, yelling, laughing, being kids... something about it triggered my train of thought... They were so innocent, and free...
I can't say how that made me feel, it was just something I had managed to become obsessed with.
As the years went by they changed, but they never lost that spark of innocence. There were typical teenage moments, but they were never hard to handle, or unreasonable...
My obsession started getting out of hand on my sweet Lyla's eighteenth birthday.
As it was legal for her to drink, her father, brother and I took her out for a drink. It was funny... I always thought she was closer to me than anyone in the family, but that night, I saw that I was wrong.
The more relaxed she got, the more she got closer to Ben, my son. It was a subtle difference, but one that I couldn't help but pick up on. My husband Ethan never caught on. She was leaning more on his shoulder, either to show innocent affection or because she was tired. She was communicating more openly to him more than her father and I, and you could see that, although she was comfortable with us, she was even more so with Ben.
That night... that night was the first night I started to form my plan.
Lyla's eighteenth birthday
Lyla stumbled down the stairs, with her broken silk pajama shirt open. Feeling even more unstable than when she first got home, she held the railing; still not realizing that the buttons on her blouse had been ripped off. Ben was to her right, almost asleep in the living room with the TV on. She looked to him, wondering if she should cover him with a blanket since it would get colder as the night would go on.
She didn't want to disturb him however. The only reason she came downstairs was to refill the glass of water that her mother gave her. She figured she should drink as much as she could since she was feeling so off.
After a moment of standing there, watching Ben's eyes droop closed, she decided to cover him up. She tried to approach as quietly as she could, but admittedly, she couldn't feel her feet, causing her movement to be slow, and wobbly.
When she finally reached him, and the throw blanket above his head, she didn't notice that her large round breasts were nearly touching his face when she bent down.
Ben was too tired to yet open his eyes, but he could feel that someone was there.
When Lyla's shaky hands finally pulled the blanket down, and onto him, he stretched, and adjusted the fabric to his liking. Lyla moved to turn back towards the kitchen but stumbled, and fell over her brother's lap.
"Woah there!" Ben opened his eyes finally, seeing her clumsily try to get herself up. It took him a moment, but he saw that she was struggling to move, and was in a much worse condition than what he had seen her last. Seeing her like that made him wake himself immediately.
"Lyla?" He tried to lift her a little, and she fell onto her knees.
"Sorry!" She gasped.
"Lyla did you drink anything else when we came back?" He asked her with a worried expression on his face. He looked into her soft grey eyes, trying to figure out how intoxicated she was. Her sandy blond hair was an absolute mess from barely managing to get out of bed, and she kept trying to move her curvy round body into a position to get up. He had never seen her like this... Along with her body not cooperating with her, she looked confused, and scared.
She was trying to focus more on moving than answering his question.