I am called sarah. I have always envied my friends who had big brothers who seemed to care for them so much. For some strange reason I thought it was a prestige for them to have big brothers, something I don't have, or so I thought at that moment. Perhaps, I had a good reason for such sentimentality. My siblings and I were all females.
I always fantasised about having a big brother who was protective of me and came to our aid anytime we needed someone to stand up for us. Day in day out, I would either dream of having one or imagine having one. It therefore came as a surprise, or rather a "shockprise", to me when my father announced One day that we had a big brother. Initially I thought I had not heard him well so I asked him to repeat the announcement. He did repeat it but was rather Flabbergasted by my reaction to the news. He thought my reaction was quite over-the-edge, perhaps due to my over-excitement. His suspicion was true, I was flummoxed to hear I had a brother. He went further to explain to us that our brother was a product of a past relationship he had with a lawyer but due to the nature of their break-up, the mother of our brother denied him access to the boy, who he said was twenty-one years old. My younger sister was Fifteen years and I was eighteen years old by then. I thought about our brother and wondered how he would look like and whether he would love being our brother.
Three days later, my mother returned home from work with news that our half brother, Martin, would be coming to stay with us. She said he would be coming the next day. That night I couldn't sleep on my bed because i was so anxious to meet this mysterious brother of mine. The next day was dedicated to making preparation for his arrival. About a few minutes to the end of the preparation, My father phoned us to inform us that they were on their way coming and would be there within the next thirty minutes. Those thirty minutes were like thirty hours to me. Time seems to have stopped moving and it's ineptitude increased my anxiety. If I'd have had the power to move time, I could have fast forwarded the time in order to shorten their journey.
Finally, they arrived home. I heard the sound of my father's car as he entered the house and moved towards the Garage. I rushed out to catch a first glimpse of the one and only brother I had never seen and never knew existed for twenty-one solid years. In all my imagination of Martin, I never expected him to be such a handsome guy. When I set my eyes on him, my mouth dropped open with a "wow" sound. I knew immediately that he has captured my heart. It was love at first sight. After the usual introductions and pleasantries, our parents left us alone to catch up with lost time and in no time we were conversing happily with Martin as though we had known him for very long. He told as He had completed University last two years and had been employed in the Regional Hospital as a Biochemist a few weeks ago.
As the weeks flew by, my feelings towards my half brother changed. It grew from simple admiration into an obsession. I felt jealous when my female friends talked about how cool he looked and would want me to connect him to them. I hated it when I saw him talking to some of these girls because I knew their intention very well - they were trying to snatch my brother, or rather ...my lover, from me. These thoughts made me worried. It was then that I realised I have fallen in love with my half brother. No two way about that. I tried as much as I could to hide my feelings from him but I realised I was fighting a lose battle. Then I turned the wheels round to show him through my actions that I loved him. For instance, after bathing, I would intentionally walk half naked into his room just to ask him what I could cook for him. Other times, I would wear tight fitting clothes that accentuate my body contours to such an extent that nothing is left to imagination. With time, I became more vociferous not in words but in action. I would intentionally hug him and hold him tightly so much that he can't avoid feeling the softness of my breast.
With time, he became fully aware of my feelings for him and the theatricals I have been using to draw his attention towards that line of thought, but he said nothing nor pushed me away.
One day, to my surprise, he invited me to his mother's house, with the excuse that I had to accompany him to see a friend. He drove me in his own car. Before we moved to his mother's house, he passed by a shopping mall to buy certain things I couldn't fathom except the nice ice cream he bought for me. We reached his mother's house but there was no friend there and the house was virtually empty. Naturally, I thought that finally, he had fallen for my moves too. We entered his room, which was surprisingly too neat, well decorated and extravagant for a young man of his age. My heart started beating rapidly and hammering sporadically against my chest to the point that my chest hurt. When we laid on his bed, I closed my eyes wondering if it was really happening. I was the happiest girl in the world at that moment . I didn't care if he was my brother and if we were about to commit a taboo or incest or whatever they call it. As far as I am concerned, I loved him and we can damn the consequences of incest. All I wanted him to do was to hold me tight, tell me he loved me too, just as I loved him, and make me experience the pleasures that come along with physical connections.
In the middle of my sensual thoughts, Martin's deep voice cut through my chain of thought and jolted me back from the world of fantasies to the real world. He was soft-spoken and calm but I will never forget the words he uttered that day.
"My dear lovely Sister Sarah, I am your brother and in as much as I care for you, I will never try to make love to you. I have seen that you have grown very fond of me but we can never ever be anything more than what we are supposed to be - a brother and a sister. I won't tell mummy and daddy about your behaviour, but promise me you are not going to behave like that again."
I feel totally embarrassed and couldn't hold back my tears as I sobbed like a baby. My passion for my brother had grown so massive to the point that I was going crazy, and in the process lost all my sensibility. He threw his strong muscular arms around me and I cried uncontrollably on his chest. When I calmed down, he asked me to wipe my tears, brought out a very beautiful dress for me...like the ones you would see in those Cinderella cartoons. He finally took me home after I promised never to lure him with my antics again. He did what was right as a brother, but I certainly don't want to remember that embarrassing moment again. For three weeks, I hated my brother for bouncing me in a moment I was ready and waiting for him to make me feel like a woman, but later I respected and thanked him for showing great maturity by not kowtowing to my advances.