I waited in the darkness, my heart pounding. The snore came again, a loud congestive breathing from the room down the hall, drowning out the other small noises of the night. I pushed my covers back and swung my legs down, my stocking feet making no sound on the worn boards beneath them. I paused again before standing up, afraid to move without my cover. If they caught me, it would be months before they would let their guard down again. I had played the game for nearly a year now, long enough for them to think I had forgotten, had given up all thoughts of escape. But I had not, never would. They didn't truly know me if they thought I would ever give up anything. That thought froze me as I realized I was. Giving up something, that is. I was leaving my brother behind. Rationalizing it with the thought that he was a favorite here, and not in any danger, only framed it in my mind as an excuse. I shook my head, my curls bouncing. I would come back for him later. Right now, I had to go. I would never get a chance like this again.

The window was sticking. I yanked at it as hard as I dared, I didn't need it coming loose, all of a sudden, and banging into the sill. The snorer choked, recovered and then continued snoring, oblivious to everything. He wasn't the one I was worried about, though. It was the one sleeping next to him, I wanted to avoid waking. But as long as he snored, she wouldn't hear anything, so I pulled steadily until the window was open enough for me to squeeze out. Then I pushed it until it looked closed in the dim light of the sliver of moon showing through the trees overhead. I suppressed a shout of glee. Finally, I was free!

I straightened my clothes, checked that I had my bag, and crept carefully until I was off the gravel they had placed under my windows.

Thumbing my nose at the dark patch the house had become, I followed the well-worn path down past the garden and the grandparents' trailer, to the tunnel of manzanita that led down to the railroad tracks we lived beside. By now my eyes were well adjusted to the lack of light and I could see well enough to traverse the trail. It meandered, but I had used it often in the five years since we had moved here, and knew my way along it well.

Emerging from the thick bushes, I made my way carefully down the steep hill in the dark, the soft red dirt helping in my quest to stay silent.

The short walk into town got my heart beating fast again, this time with excitement. What would it be like to live on my own? With no one to use me for slave labor or a scapegoat, I would truly be free! I turned around one last time, seeing the hulking shape of the water tower rising above the hill it stood upon, hovering over the house like a mother hen guarding her chicks. It's okay. I thought toward the woman I had left behind in bed with the snorer. You don't have to love me. You don't even have to try anymore because I'm never going to be your daughter. Turning back, I stepped into the car that had just pulled up beside me, and closed the door.

"It's ok, you don't have to love me," he whispered to me the first time we kissed.

I hadn't loved him, not really, even when he pressed me against the wall and kissed me into tomorrow. I hadn't loved him.

He was handsome, and daring, and cute, and kind, but when he looked at me across the room during class my heart hadn't started to race. When he smiled, my room didn't light up with joy. When we kissed, I didn't want time to stop.

Don't get me wrong, I like--liked him.

When he brough me to visit his parents, I was hesitant. I didn't want him to getting ideas. But, just as he knocked on the door he murmmered into my ear:

"It's ok, you don't have to love me."

I smiled, it was comforting.

"... But I love you," he said, breath hot against my skin.

He must have seen it that night: the widening of my eyes, the stiffness of my jaw. But, that didn't stop him. He kept kissing me. He kept smiling. He kept loving me.

Before we knew it, it was summer again and another year of school was done. He was going abroad to NYC. He offered me the extra plane ticket. I was hesitant, I didn't like New York, or crowded cities, or tall buildings. I liked the blue sky and the endless fields. I declined. He only smiled and promised to call me when the plane landed.

I drove him to the airport, feeling guilty. I was sure that he was mad, despite the smile. So I formed a plan, when he got out of the car I would say it... the words I had been dreading to say to anyone.

Finally we were here. Everything was in slow motion: the opening of my door, the opening of his door, the loving embrace, the lugging of bags upstairs, the elevator, the final kiss, and then...

"I--" the words choked in my mouth. I tried again, "I lo--"

His eyes were wide, the smile gone from his lips.

I swallowed, "I lov--" but the words died again.

I gave him a sorrowful smile, which he returned with a happier smile then I'd ever seen him wear. He pressed his lips to mine, mouth coaxing, and still smiling. He broke apart with a gasp, I couldn't understand. I hadn't been able to.

"It's ok, you don't have to love me."

"But... I--"

"It's ok, you are enough. You don't have to love me."

So, I believed him. I waved him off, marched down the stairs alone, drove home, and watched Netflix. The hours ticked away along with the sun. By the time, the moon had risen I checked my phone. Nothing.

I ignored the hesitance inside my gut. Maybe the flight was delayed? Though, I wanted to be awake when he called, I was getting tired and had plans tomorrow so I fell into a restless sleep.

The morning came too fast.

I checked my phone: nothing. It was unerving. He never forgot to call me, even when he was tired, it was why I adored him. Pushing away the churning of my stomach, I settled onto the couch, flicking on the News.

"Just in... there was a shooting in... New York late last night."

The world froze.

His last words: It's ok, you don't have to love me.

But, I had.

#Imsorry #Sad #death #love #It'sok,youdon'thavetoloveme. #challenge #lovers #kissing #NYC #loving

I'm always hearing jokes about incest or how it's disgusting. The funny thing is...it doesn't affect the people that complain about it. I've looked at it the same way too. However, after I looked at it and analyzed its pros and cons I see zero problems. As long as both party members are consensual, I see no reason to judge it. Now, just because I'll say that I have no problem with it doesn't mean that I'm wanting to fuck my cousin or anything. I see this topic as the new love that'll eventually come around, like being gay. It's seen in a similar way as being gay was decades ago. If you mention it or are curious about it, people will automatically assume that you're a part of it. Just like being gay it has some, especially with children. Everyone who's gay knows how exactly they'll have to start a family if they want one. Sure it's not the traditional way to have/raise a child, but it works. Those who are part of incest would be aware of the birth defects on a future child. As long as they know about the consequences and don't complain about their situation, they're alright.