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She was a volatile porcelain doll beneath his pale, dry fingertips. He relished the smooth skin of her thighs but didn’t dare indulge in more taboo desires. His hands would go no higher than the hem of her black miniskirt, lest she strike him across the cheek again. He wondered about where he wasn’t allowed, but the doll rarely spoke when she was on his lap, communicating to him through sultry gazes and kisses instead. If he touched the wrong spot, her eyes turned to fire, and she’d lash out. If he wasn’t touching her enough, she’d bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. She was a devil disguised as a blue-eyed girl, and if he didn’t satiate her, she would raise hell.
Was it odd for one’s sister to come into one’s room at night, to climb onto one’s hips and rake her stiletto blue fingernails across one’s neck until one reciprocated by sitting up to kiss her? Was it odd to see a reflection of oneself in her gleaming blue eyes and yearn for her still?
Was he the odd one, or was she?
He knew of taboo, of forbidden desires, of thoughts that your mind feeds you, but your tongue cannot speak, for people around you don’t approve. He knew that there were other girls, nice girls with long blonde hair and healthy skin, girls who he didn’t share blood with.
But he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She came to him. He didn’t come to her. He merely accepted the gesture and never asked questions about why. So perhaps, the girl was the one who was odd, not him.
The porcelain doll had fragile limbs. She was frail like her brother, ribs pushing against her white skin, fingers skeletal, and color drained from her face, so she looked lifeless enough to sit on a collector’s shelf for a hundred years before anyone noticed that she was real.
Sometimes, just like a doll, she went limp under his touch (why?). Like she’d fallen into a trance, she let him do as he pleased, and when he tested the waters by kissing her harder, inching his hand up her skirt a little farther, she didn’t respond. She was hypnotized by an unseen force, possessed by the soul of a different doll. But it was only for a few minutes. When she emerged from the state, she was the succubus again, and her eyes once more burned with a hunger to tease her brother.
Do you have a girlfriend, Mason? Is there anyone you’re interested in?
No, he always replied. No girlfriend. His eyes always wandered to his sister. She was always silent.
It’s not something people are supposed to talk about. Hush, children, it’s our family secret. Close the door behind you and don’t make a sound.