by Writing Shark
The perfect storm
You come down with the light steps of a boy who has just once again shot his load into the mouth and throat of a pretty girl. Denise was especially eager to get down on you and her hopeful look as she knelt at your feet and her soft panting as she slid your cock down her throat was just further proof of the depth this girl has. Where Millie sucks you gently – apart from the one time she went full on – Denise is more curious. As you carefully placed your hands on the back of her head, she had looked at you so happy that you had to avert your gaze to keep from immediately cuming. Her giggles had tickled your shaft and the walls of her throad had massaged you while a thin strand of drool ran down her chin and collected between her petite breasts. Denise always responds well to your words and while her eyes had looked up at you it was as if you were on a level of your own. Her warm breath had flowed from her nose and landed gently but firmly on your hip. The look she had given you after your juice had wetted her throat you could only describe as adoring and you hope your lips on her forehead were enough gratitude. In any case, her tender fingertips and soft purring were a good sign of her satisfaction. Now you look around the living area of the house like a General Patton who can’t wait to cross the river Rhine. Confident of victory, you look for your other friends to spend quality time with before you go on your date with Karen.
You admit without hesitation that you need the advice of Megan and Emma on what to wear and what to talk about. But at some point you’ll have to take the lead and gently but firmly introduce the girl to the mindset of a harem relationship. Stay cool General. No need to leave Paris behind. But then you snort with energy. Off you go over the Rhine into the heart of your purpose. You call for the girls. Your sisters should be somewhere in the house, Denise is probably freshening up in the bathroom, and Emma has responded to your message and is about to replace the sun in the evening sky as your light source of life.
But like Patton’s hopes to be the first to piss in the Rhine, your victorious mood is interrupted by distant artillery thunder from the Ardennes. What had taken hours to days to be recognized in World War II, your middle sister’s voice does for you in seconds. With a loud crash, a door upstairs flies open and closed again and your happy grin dies in just a second, replaced by the horror of knowing what will come.
“Fuck you and die!” yells Megan so loud you’re lucky your parents are with friends this evening. Emma made sure you could stay home alone. Still, what looked like a cozy girls’ night out instantly turns into the encirclement of Bastogne. “Stupid bitch!” Megan storms past you without even looking at you. Puzzled, you stare after her while Maureen literally flies down the stairs to chase after her sister.
“Megan!” Your wombat stomps into the kitchen like an SS armored division, trying to wash down her temper with a glass of orange juice.
“What’s wrong?” you call, also getting into gear since you can’t get a response from either of the girls.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” Maureen explains in a shaky voice with red cheeks.
“Oh shut up!” yells Megan again in anger. You’ve never seen her… so upset. Even the night you couldn’t pick her up from the disco because Millie was sick, she still had a hint of understanding for you and especially her sister. Maureen doesn’t seem to have that luxury. As funny as it looks to see drops of orange juice on her shirt, you’ll be damned if you’re going to bring it up now.
“What’s wrong?” you ask again, trying to sound calm and collected. It doesn’t help.
“Ask that bitch!” nags Megan, pointing at Maureen. As your wombat slams her glass down on the kitchen table so hard it nearly shatters, you prepare yourself for the big sister’s response. Dark memories come back to you as you think of the fight between the two of them in the Seacrest mall and your world darkens. But to your surprise and great dismay, Maureen only looks infinitely hurt.
“Megan…”
“She’s ruining everything again,” your middle sister interrupts, coming toward you. She grabs your hand, her fingers closing around yours, but you feel no love or satisfaction or affection, only your sister’s gestures trembling with anger. She wears a white dress that almost reaches her knees, her blue ribbon in her hair and a small denim jacket. Her legs are covered by black knee-length socks with white stripes and she wears her comfortable sneakers. The breath gets stuck in her throat when you see her outfit and only her injured look, like a cornered animal, pulls you out of your admiration with all brutality. Before you can say anything to your wombat, Maureen steps in again in a feverish attempt to calm Megan down.
“I didn’t mean to…”
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! FUCK” And Maureen remains silent. Her face reflects only pain while the one of Megan radiates pain and anger, flooding the kitchen. Then her finger stretches out, like a deadly lance, pointing at her sister. “She always ruins everything. I told you so.” First, her fingers close even tighter around yours while she doesn’t take her eyes off Maureen. Then her eyes dart to you… and you freeze as she lets go of you and pulls away as well. Briefly, it looks like Megan is trying to tell you something, and her eyes change for a second to those of someone hopelessly lost. Your heart bleeds at the sight and bursts as you see the same expression on the other one’s face. You stand in the doorway to the kitchen, Megan in front of the sink with her back to the window, and Maureen by the refrigerator, lonely and abandoned. “I told you so” Megan finally hisses, with effort and pain driving the sadness from her face. Only anger floods your sister’s face. “She can’t leave it alone.”
“Okay… Megan… what…” You lift your hand in peace but are interrupted by the bright voice of Emma stepping unsuspectingly through the front door into the living room.
“Guys, I’m here!” she calls happily. Then she sees your back and dances toward you. Her arms wrap around your shoulders and she is about to kiss your cheek when she notices how tense you are. “What’s wrong?” your elf asks in alarm, then looks into the room. Startled, she holds her breath and quickly seeks your hand with hers.
“Megan, please…” you say, trying to manage an encouraging smile. Your wombat opens her mouth, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Maureen. Briefly you have hope again but then your sister clenches her fists.
“Forget it. That bitch will never change.” Then she storms past you and Emma, somehow managing not to touch you. You let go of Emma and reach out to Megan.
“Wait…” And now it’s no longer a question but a request. Emma has arrived on time. The sun is just sinking behind the horizon and darkness spreads over you.
“It’s not your fault…honey,” Megan murmurs without turning around. With her outfit, one you never really hoped to see on her, she looks stunningly beautiful. And of course, she has tied her blue bow in her hair. You look at her and know it’s your fault. “But this…person…Maureen only brings out bad things.” Then she leaves without another word and disappears into the dawning night. Your first reflex is to run after her. Everything in your self-imposed upbringing is screaming for you to resolve the situation, to help both Megan and Maureen, and the fact that your wombat has turned his back on you scares you immensely. You’re already at the front door, one hand on the handle when something stops you.
“BB?” Of course Millie and Denise heard the argument. The two girls are crouched on the stairs, hands on the white wooden railing, looking into the living room where you, Maureen and Emma are standing. “What’s going on?” You’re not the only one who’s been blindsided by the situation. Still, you manage to turn around and give the two young girls an encouraging look.
“I don’t know,” you say, sounding more carefree than you feel. “But I’m going to find out. Come here.” You hold out your arms and the two girls trot down the stairs and snuggle up to you. With Millie and Denise on you, you can now see to Emma and Maureen. Emma has put her hand to her chin and is clutching her elbow with the other. Nervously, she rocks from one leg to the other. She, too, had certainly imagined the evening differently. But Maureen has been hit the hardest. She stands powerlessly in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and staring into space from empty eyes.
“It’s my fault” she whispers without looking at anyone. Emma and you exchange glances and then look at your older sister while stroking your hands over the younger one’s back.
“Maureen…everything is okay.” You know your sister and you know that whatever she did, it wasn’t out of malice.
“No, it’s not.” The girl shakes her head. “Megan is right.” You can’t say anything, feeling paralyzed yourself.
“What happened?” asks Emma, helping you with your words.
“We know you’re not evil,” you say but Maureen shakes her head and then hides her face between her hands. For a few seconds the room is silent. The table is already prepared for the festive girls’ night, waiting for happy people who will not come today. Then, slowly, her shoulders begin to twitch. Through her hands, Maureen manages to hide her tears for a few seconds, but it all helps nothing. As her whimpering echoes through the room, you feel first Millie and a few seconds later Denise move away from you. Millie, strong as ever, stronger and smarter than you, smiles at you, takes Denise by the hand and turns to Emma. You give the three girls a grateful look and then hurry quickly across the room. In the two seconds it takes you, the dam Maureen is trying to maintain crumbles, but as soon as your arms close around her, she collapses. Warm tears and even warmer breath moisten your shoulder. Her back twitches and her hands close around you in search of help. But you can’t do anything and it almost kills you. You need to know what happened, but you don’t want to open up the wound that has obviously been created any further. “I need you now Maureen” you whisper in her ear. Her hair tickles your nose and you feel a shiver run through her as she clings to you and your eyes moisten as well. Something like this had to happen sometime and you know that no power in the universe can stop evil. It always happens and the only thing you can do to face the darkness in the lives of the people you love so much is to bring back the light with warmth, trust and affection. “I trust you completely” you breathe, showing her the clinical side of your being. “I know you can do this.” Her fingernails strain the fabric of your shirt. “You’re a good, kind person. You’re not afraid.” Some determination shows your sister her strength. “I love you.” And that’s for both of you.
“It’s my fault,” she murmurs into the silence of the room. Then she chokes and you almost have to giggle as she coughs against your shoulder. You squeeze her a little tighter and she’s ready. “I-I was talking to Karen.” You let go of each other and Maureen recognizes the questioning look you have. “She called earlier. I thought she wanted to talk to you…wanted to talk to me.” She sniffles heavily and you feel a tug on your arm. Millie stands next to you and hands you a tissue, looking at you intently. In the background, Emma has Denise in her arms, standing behind her, supporting the younger girl, and they both look over at you.
“What happened honey?” you ask, smiling at Millie and hand Maureen the handkerchief. Maureen tells you about the conversation with Karen.
“I was so proud that she asked me, accepted my help. I felt useful.” Then the tears come again. “And then I messed it all up.” She snuggles up to you again and your hands close behind her back, damp from the snot your sister squeezes out of the cloth you’re using. “She wanted to know what our roles were in your life and I was so proud of mine that I told her Megan didn’t have a role. And she heard that…” Again, a few minutes pass in which you comfort Maureen, but also ask yourself about your responsibility. Megan was the one who made your life so perfect. She encouraged Millie and laid the foundation for what is now your life. You know how she feels about you and her role, the sex in the shower is still clear in your mind. And Maureen feels the same way.
“You’re not to blame, Maureen darling,” you say soothingly, and this time it seems to help a little. You’re just glad your parents aren’t in the house, otherwise things would have exploded like international relations after the assassination of Franz Ferdinand. Here, the reasons for your world conflagration are just as stupid as they were then. You fear that Maureen is afraid of being thrown out of the family again, which only took her back into its healed heart after she made one of the mistakes she never wanted to make again. But Maureen is bigger than you.
“I don’t care what happens to me” she sobs angrily. “I blame myself so much for Megan. I should be helping her, supporting her.” She looks at you guiltily with her love for you obvious. “I’m not like you, Finn. I was so excited to be around you, with the family, with Millie and Megan and all the others…” She looks over your shoulder at the girls. “And in the process, I forgot that Megan might be feeling the same way I am. I’m so stupid!” You flinch as Maureen bumps your shoulder, but stand firm. When she realizes what she’s done, your sister only feels worse. “Fuck!” she exclaims. Apparently it runs in the family, as does the fact that Maureen, as unsupportive as she’s been in the past, now cares more about how Megan is doing than the consequences of the fight for her personally.
“Heaven I love you so much,” you murmur, shaking your head. But that was just for you, apparently the only one here showing selfish tendencies.
“Megan is my best friend,” Emma says from behind you. “Everyone could see how she feels about Finn and I can’t imagine how hard it was to hide her feelings all this time.” Since Emma felt the same way, it’s even more amazing that she puts Megan above her. You’re starting to get in real trouble here but you’ve always wondered why you deserve this group of angels.
“But we’re a family now. I should make sure she’s okay. Especially after all she’s done for me,” Maureen says, determination replacing some of the sadness in her heart.
“Maureen this is not the end,” you say and find your words again for you, Maureen and Megan. Emma looks at you proudly, Millie and Denise in love. “Such things happen as the sun will rise again tomorrow. That your luck in life is so great is a damn good thing, even if you can’t handle it yet. Megan is not mad at you, she’s mad at herself and afraid of losing touch.” It feels weird talking about her in the absence of your wombat but you’re the man in your relationship and making sure Maureen is okay as far as she goes is exactly the job you wanted. “No one here or anywhere else is mad at you for being okay. And Megan likes you.”
“But I shouldn’t make her sad,” your sister protests.
“There are a lot of things we shouldn’t do honey,” you say with a shrug. “But we have the advantage of sticking together. You have support here and none of us stand alone. Look around” you say and point to the other three girls. “There’s always someone there to help you. And me too.” You look at Emma. “Please take care of my princess and my kitten, okay?” Emma couldn’t nod more determinedly. Then you turn to Maureen. “And you and I are going to go find my wombat.” You pull your sister toward the door. As you slip your shoes on your feet and Maureen does the same, you say: “Where else in this world is it better to make mistakes than here, with so many people to help you fix them?” And Maureen smiles.
It is a warm summer night. Unfortunately, there is currently a half-moon and so the lamps in your neighborhood cast the only sparse light on the streets. Chirps hold their concerts loudly in the bushes and gardens, making it hard to hear anything else as the temperature slowly drops lower and lower. This is a good thing as you hurry quickly through the nighty streets. You and Maureen split up and search a designated area, both of you taking your cell phones with you. It took a while, but after a heartfelt kiss and the promise that everything will be okay, your sister disappeared into the night even faster than you.
Now you wander through the darkness with mixed feelings. While a helicopter circles somewhere above you, you worry. As members of the upper-middle-class, you live in a decent neighborhood with white picket fences, nice neighbors with nice dogs and cats, clean streets and not much crime. That Megan could be in danger is very unlikely. Yet you feel the nagging restlessness of a boy who doesn’t know where his girlfriend is. There were only a few times when Megan didn’t tell you where she had gone, so it’s an unusual feeling. It’s made worse by the fact that your sister has left her own cell phone in her room. While still worrying about her light footwear, you try to put yourself in her shoes. What is usually the easiest game now turns out to be a difficult task, as you have so rarely seen your wombat angry. You consider it a personal failure that you couldn’t resolve the situation before it escalated.
“Damn,” you grumble, looking into the gardens on either side of the road. There’s old Miss Bugley’s house. When you were little, the old widow used to lure you into the house with candy when you and Megan romped through her yard like wild raccoons. Megan had known her longer than you, but still hid behind you when you met the nice lady for the first time. A candy bar had quickly wrapped you around her finger and since then you have always helped her in the backyard or with other chores. Megan had always cheered you on as you made your circles around the house with the much too large lawnmower. In the summer, she had watched you, ice cream in hand and a crooked grin on her face. When you were done with your work, Miss Bugley was quick to help and allowed Megan to fetch an ice cream for you from her kitchen. Now, however, the garden is empty and bewildered. Miss Bugley died two years ago, Megan and you attended at her funeral.
You walk on, cursing the thought of death. You grow cold and quicken your steps in the sultry summer air. To your right, a steep road winds up a hill. You can still remember the tears on her young face as you felt like a racer. Megan had even gotten you one of her white scarves which you had then raced down the hill in a completely stupid way. Of course, you flipped halfway down the track and the screams of Megan and Millie could be heard halfway across town. This was the second attempt, the first you crashed into your family car and so Megan, at seven years old, had put her foot down so hard that you still are watchfull behind the wheel of your car even today. But again, you can’t see your girlfriend’s silhouette and white dress. You call her name up the street but only a cat scurries quickly across the road some distance away. You continue walking.
By now you are getting a little worried. You remember an old tool shed that stands nearby at a crossroads. You quickly jog the distance there and bend under the low-hanging bushes. This is where Megan had hidden on her first day of school. The thought of being away from you for even a few hours had resulted in her refusal to ever go to school. She even tried to skip a class to study with you. When your mother became angry, you found your sister here, sulking and angry. She had missed the first classes but when you dropped her off at school you hugged and encouraged her. Of course, Megan isn’t here either. You got further and further away and message Maureen who she hasn’t found Megan either.
Now you are seriously thinking about calling the police. Maureen has already expressed the same idea but has not yet acted on it. Emma message you that everything is okay at home and that they wait for Megan while she takes care of Millie and Denise with funny movies on the internet. That you have Emma is a relief you can use right now. But still…
“Megan!” you call out into the night. “Megan!” But no one answers you. You keep walking and pass a veterinarian’s office. “Shit,” you mutter. Just before her sixteenth birthday, you had found a neglected dog that had apparently been abandoned on the highway and had made its way all the way to your hometown. Megan had shown it to you and you had gone hunting, armored like a knight. You might have been eight or nine years old but you still remembered her yellow summer dress well. Megan hated it but you thought it looked cute. Unfortunately your dad had thought so too, said so, and so that was the last year she wore dresses. “God I miss this.” Briefly you stop and look at the dark windows and the dim light over the entrance. Of course, the dog had bitten you when you tried to save him. But together you managed to get him to the vet, give him a sedative shot, and then wait for the police to take him to the shelter. Megan still writes to the family every anniversary thanking them for their help. You feel the pressure behind your eyes as you think about how it won’t be long before Leroy will no longer be with you. Megan has already said she knows what’s going to happen but still you both like the old dog very much. And besides, the day you found him was the beginning of your admiration for this girl. She was the one who held your hand while you were crying like a baby at the doctor’s office (the one for humans) getting a vaccination. The bite wound was not very deep but the doctor, the policeman who brought you, your mother and father were all angry with you. But that night Megan hugged you and thanked you in a whisper before scurrying back to her room.
“Megan! Megan! Megan!” Your cell phone vibrates in your pocket, Maureen calls you. “Did you find her?” you ask, your voice unnaturally brittle.
“No.” Maureen sounds worried, too. “I’ve searched everywhere. She’s not here. I…Finn, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be Maureen,” you say, hoping your weak defense will help her. “It’s my fault. I should have made sense of it.” You look around the nighttime suburb. Some distance away, the dark forest begins. “Megan!” Your throat aches with tension and the pressure behind your eyes grows. But you can’t cry like a baby now, you have a job to do.
“I… I’m going to call the police now” Maureen says firmly, but she can’t hide her fear.
“Yes…” you mutter. You have respect for the men in blue, but you’d rather look for your sister on your own. It’s my fucking duty to look out for her! “Megan!” A window is ripped open in the house next to you.
“Shut the fuck up out there! Some of us want to sleep.”
“You shut the fuck up!” you yell, losing your temper. “I’m trying to find my girlfriend alright?” You nag at the older, chubby man in the white undershirt who is glaring angrily at you. You think of Megan, her face floating in your mind’s eye. She is so beautiful, so funny and gentle. She doesn’t deserve to be forgotten. The man gives you the middle finger and slams the window shut again.
“Finn?” you hear from the phone. You lift it back to your ear. “Finn, stay calm. You’re not helping Megan like this.”
“I know damn it,” you groan, and now a tear trickles down your cheek. “I just want to make her happy too. I don’t deserve her as a girlfriend.”
“Yes you do Finn!” now Maureen roars through the link. “You do! Megan loves you more than any other friend in her life. You are her great love!” Maureen sounds desperate, but something else resonates in her voice as well, something good, positive. “Don’t worry about me, you were always meant for each other. It’s fate that you love each other, get it?” You almost drop your phone out of your hand. “Finn? Did you hear me?” Maureen almost sounds crazy with her shrill voice.
“Yeah,” you mumble. Then you turn around apprehensively, looking in a certain direction. “Maureen?”
“What?” She is annoyed, almost panicked.
“I love you,” you say, and you have to smile. “You’re just as perfect for me as anyone else.
“Stop babying me and go find your sister dammit! You fucking moron!” she screeches angrily at you now but you just have to laugh.
“It’s okay Maureen. It’s okay. You’re perfect.” Your feet move almost by themselves. “Don’t call the police,” you say, then you run. “Go home and have fun with the others, that’s an order.”
“What?” This time Maureen sounds more puzzled, perplexed than angry. “Uh…”
“Do it honey” you laugh as you run through the dark streets, lit up every few seconds by a streetlight. “You’ve earned it. I know where Megan is.” Then you hang up, clutch the plastic of your phone, and run even faster.
Writing Shark 