This story doesn’t go the way you think. All they did was beat me up, tear up my school books, and spat on me. Oh, they also told me that they wanted to tie up my sister and take turns having sex with her. That black eye was hard to explain, but my sister was too ashamed of me to ask more about it and my mother was too tired from her jobs to keep investigating after I kept ignoring the subject.I hated myself for the next few months. On the last day of that school year, I saw something that would change my life. I came home early. I didn’t expect to be home this early that day because we usually had band practice for three hours, but the teacher’s wife broke her leg or something. Anyways, it was Sally’s (by the way, that’s my sister’s name) senior year. When I walked in the house, I saw two pairs of rugby shoes on the doormat. This was strange, boys weren’t ever allowed to be at the house.I heard creaking coming from Sally’s room. I walked slowly up the stairs on my toes. Her door was. I flopped back on the bed, laughing, and she immediately began unbuttoning my foreflap. I sat up quickly, held her at the shoulders and kissed her sweetly. "What did you expect?" I didn't know he was that old, honestly I didn't. He dyes his hair and looks a lot younger. He's thin, thin all over; you never saw such skinny legs, all three of them." She held up her forefinger."Is he well?"She nodded, going back to work on my waist buttons as I pulled off my boots. "He rides almost every day and drinks a bottle of port almost every night, falls asleep in his chair and two servants carry him up to his bed. He wakes to piss and that's when he sometimes visits me, if he remembers I exist." Poor child," I said, pulling my shirt over my head."Oh," she said, hand to her mouth as she looked at my scarred and hairy body.I turned back the quilt, and helped her up to the mattress, happy to see the triangle of curls between her thighs was still golden, and then got out of my britches and rolled in.
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