Warning - this is a very long story, so I've broken it up into five chapters. The entire work is complete, so hopefully each chapter will be published a couple of days after the previous one.
If you suspend reality for a little bit, I think you'll enjoy this story of a relationship between a brother and sister that gets started with an unusual request and goes from there. All characters are 18 or over at the time of their sexual activity. This story contains graphic descriptions of incestual acts. If that's not your thing, it would be wise for you to find something else to read - like probably in a different category!
If you enjoy this, please take time to vote and leave a comment. My goal in all my writing is for my audience to enjoy what they are reading, so if that happens to you, please let me know!
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My sister Bri was dying.
It was hard for me to know how to deal with this. I was away - a college junior holding a full-time class load while trying to work as many hours as possible since Bri's illness was taking away any available financial support my parents might have otherwise been able to give me. Because of my school and work schedule it was hard for me to get away and make the six-hour drive from school to home to see her.
But the long drive wasn't the hardest part. It was seeing her regression in between the times I could come and visit her. Brianna was the kind of teenage girl that every parent hoped for. She was smart and athletic and vivacious and beautiful and kind and friendly and loving and respectful and many other wonderful qualities that made you want to be around her.
There was enough age difference between us that we didn't really hang out together all that much. But that changed my senior year in high school, which was her freshman year. We spent more time together that year than we probably had in the previous three years combined. I was her ride to school and her ride home. I was there for her freshman games in volleyball, basketball, and softball, and it was believed she would be a good enough athlete to garner scholarship offers to Division II schools in more than one sport.
I was her protector - not that she needed it. I was her tutor and encourager - again, not that she needed it. But it was so much fun having her in high school with me. That year was my best in school by far. I was torn when I was accepted into a prominent engineering program at a university six hours away, two states over, but in the long run it was the best option for me to prepare me for my career choice as a civil engineer. Bri understood, but I could tell she wasn't happy about the prospect of us being separated by such a great distance.
We made it work, and on the rare weekends I could come back to visit, Bri canceled her plans with her friends so we could spend a couple of days together. We did some movie watching at home, some hiking and bike riding on the trails in the area, and even spent time just talking with each other about our hopes and dreams and plans and all kinds of things a close brother and sister like to share with each other. I always hated to leave on those weekends to go back to school but remembering the times we had spent with each other helped ease the burden of the long drive.
All of that changed in the fall of Bri's junior year. She started having pains in her abdomen. It was affecting both her ability as an athlete and as a student. She went through a barrage of testing before it was discovered that she had a tumor on one of her ovaries. The proper procedure was to remove the tumor and do radiation therapy and chemo treatments to hold back any cancer that might have spread to other places. Unfortunately, it was an aggressive cancer, and it had spread by the time the surgeons could go in and remove the tumor, along with the rest of her reproductive system as a precaution. If she survived, her ability to bear children had been taken from her.
Mom and Dad encouraged her to make her own decisions regarding her treatment plan, telling her that they would be there for her no matter what she decided. It was no surprise when she announced that she would go all out to fight the cancer, using the same energy that she lived life before the diagnosis. We all believed that if anybody could beat this kind of cancer, Bri would be the one most likely to do it.
She went on with the surgery, but as the doctors suspected, they couldn't get all the cancer. The next step was to alternate with treatments of radiation and chemotherapy. Bri handled the consequences of that course of treatment like a champion. She had lost the ability to compete athletically and needed a tutor to help her keep up in her academic classes, but she looked at each challenge she faced as a hurdle that would make her stronger once she cleared it. When her hair started falling out, she chose to shave it all off, but wearing a wig wasn't her style, so she spent a lot of time making sure her head was clean and shiny so she could display it as part of the battle she was fighting.
We all wanted to feel sorry for Bri, but she would have none of that. She remained supremely confident she was going to beat cancer and started making all the plans that typical girls make after high school. She even contemplated enrolling in my college so we could be together again and relive the enjoyment of our shared year in high school.
But as she fought, it was clear to see that she was losing the battle. I could easily see her diminished physical abilities during my infrequent visits. Each time I'd try to ignore the signs that cancer was slowly beating her, because it was important to her that we not dwell on her condition and try to treat her as if nothing was wrong.
During the course of her treatments, our parents Dan and Shelley were having to take time off work, and the expenses of drives to big city hospitals for Bri's testing and treatment meant that they weren't able to help me with my apartment and other college expenses as much as they wanted. That made it necessary for me to get a job, which meant less time being able to come back to visit Bri. I knew that working over 30 hours a week in retail while studying for my engineering degree wouldn't be easy, but it was my part in taking some of the worries for my parents off me so they could concentrate on what Bri needed.
I took some summer classes to try to get all my general courses out of the way, and when they were finished, my boss allowed me to take a week to go back home to spend with Bri. We spent every waking hour together, doing whatever she could handle in her weakened state. I think we both knew that this was probably the last time we'd have to spend like this unless a miracle happened and she ended up beating cancer. She was still claiming she was going to beat it. But even though we didn't talk about it, I think we both knew this visit was necessary, because we probably wouldn't get any more opportunities like it.
It was early October, and I had not been back to see Bri since that week in the summer. We would text and email often and would even video chat when I had a few minutes. But I still felt a little guilty about not being there more often. Bri always said she understood and that she was proud of my successes in college while holding down a job, but it did little to appease the guilt I felt. Mom had called me, begging me to find a way to come and visit for Bri's 18th birthday in a couple of weeks, adding, "Timothy (my given name that only my parents use - everybody else calls me Tim except for Bri, who had told me that I would always be her Timmy), she's getting weaker all the time and I'm afraid there isn't going to be many more opportunities to visit her. Please try to make it for her birthday."
That jolted me. It was the first time anybody had talked openly about the possibility that Bri wasn't going to make it. I think in the back of our minds we all feared it was going to come to this but felt that if we didn't mention it out loud, maybe somehow it could be avoided. But Mom's admission of her weakening condition and her telling me the opportunities to see her were diminishing, made me understand that I needed to be there for her.
I looked at the calendar and saw that her birthday was on a Thursday. That would allow me to attend classes on the first three days of the week and only miss Thursday and Friday. I quickly emailed my professors about needing those two days to miss class and why, and they responded they were all fine with it, knowing that I would be responsible enough to find a way to make up for the days I missed.
When I got to work that afternoon, I asked my boss to miss those days as well. I only worked part time during the week, getting most of my hours on Saturday and Sunday. She told me I needed to go be with my sister under the circumstances and that she would cover my shifts if she couldn't find anyone else to work for me.
The days went quickly as they always do when combining work and school. Soon it was the Wednesday before Bri's birthday, and that evening I headed out on the six-hour drive, planning on arriving home by midnight. Bri would more than likely be asleep when I got there, but I'd be able to spend all her birthday with her plus have a couple more days before I had to head back. I missed her - well, I missed my parents as well, but the comment my mom made still loomed in my mind as I got closer. Would this be the last time I would be able to spend time with her? I simply couldn't process that thought at that moment.
Mom was waiting up for me when I got home. She gave me a big hug, one that lasted longer than usual, and I could tell that Bri's worsening health was really affecting her. We sat down for a few minutes and talked, and she prepared me for my first look at Bri in the morning, warning me not to look too surprised or too sad. I told her that we'd been video chatting regularly, but she still feared I would be shocked to see how much weight she had lost. She was never very big - both of our parents are shorter than average and that was passed on to us. I told Mom I would do my best not to be shocked or surprised when I saw her in the morning.
I crawled into my old bed and immediately felt at home. Since money was tight, I had purchased one of the cheapest mattresses I could find for my apartment, and it wasn't very comfortable. I didn't even bother taking my clothes off - my head hit the pillow and I think I was probably asleep about 30 seconds later.
My family must have known that I needed a good night's sleep because they didn't come in to wake me up, so when I finally opened my eyes and saw that it was already ten, I was surprised - and a little disappointed in myself! This was Bri's birthday, and I wanted to spend as much of it with her as I could. I hurriedly jumped in the shower and grabbed a T-shirt and some shorts and a pair of sweatpants and stumbled out into the living room. Bri was there, on the couch, and when she looked up at me, a huge smile broke out over her gaunt face.
I was glad Mom had warned me because she was correct. Bri looked like a shell of her normal self. Always petite, she was beyond that. I did my best to not let on to my shock at seeing her for the first time in months be revealed. Compassion immediately washed over to me, and I ran over to the couch to give her a hug, but then I stopped - would I hurt her if I wrapped my arms around her in her condition?
