Tara had always been a quiet timid girl given to reading. All the kids at school teased her and Mike had been in plenty of fights standing up for and protecting his sister. She was, on the whole, rather mousey looking. Dull black hair hung limply freom her too round face. A small scattering of freckles crowded around her cheeks and whenever she became embarrassed they would flare up a brick brown color. She wore glasses and this was because (if one was to believe her mother) of all the reading she did. Mike knew why Tara read voraciously; it was an escape. An escape from a world that constantly teased and tormented those who were perceived to be different. . . weaker.
Now things have changed.
No longer was she the frail defenseless girl. She was power incarnate. She was a goddess.
The room was cold, freezing. The furniture was in disarray. In the far corner where Tara kept her stereo system all that could be seen in the darkness was the LEDs which remain in red though the speakers produced no sound. As if from far off Mike heard the abysmal chimes of the grandfather in the living room.
It struck midnight.
Looking across the room he espied Tara's full length mirror and himself within it. He hung naked upon the wall with arms outstretched as if crucified. No nails supported his thin muscular body five feet off the ground; only his sister's will supported him. Goosebumps traversed his body as the temperture dropped further. He could now see his breath before him as he exhaled and he felt his manhood retreat into his body for the little warmth which it could offer.
Tara moved.
Slowly, her bowed head came up to face him and he saw how this creature could not be. . . never was his sister. Her eyes had changed. The puppy brown eyes had changed to a soft golden honey hue. There were no pupils to be seen. The glasses were gone and so were the freckles. Gone were the braces which had always been yet another source of ridicule. The white even teeth sparkled radiant. Her body was of gorgeously sculpted marble. She stood at five feet ten inches and her hair was a full bodied mane which danced down her back. The sculpted bush of her sex was evenly trimmed forming a small V. The rose colored nipples stood erect from the cold. The ugly duckling had died and a phoenix had taken her place. She smiled at him as she stood in all her nakedness and glory.
He knew that it was wrong and that it was perverted but he could not help himself; the sight of her naked beauty aroused him. She noticed and smiled. If he were not hanging mid air he would get down on his knees to worship this godess that was his sister.
Soft full ruby lips parted as she spoke:
"Michael. . ."
The words were soft delicate musical notes. The soft husky undertone when she spoke was an aural enticement. The golden light from her eyes warmed him to his soul.
"I am she who was once your sister. There are many things of which you are not conciously aware of... things upon which I have meditated on. Your father is a diseased individual who derives pleasure from his own flesh and the product of his loins. Your mother. . . your mother is nothing more than a petty cow who sees only that which she wishes to see."
In his mind a vision, more like a movie spun on a slow reel to reel projector, and he finally saw the whole truth. His small quiet sister crying and shaking while their father sodomized her. The quiet threats of what would happen if she ever told anyone. His leaving her room with professions of love. She was only five years old. The painful unbelief of their mother when tara finally confided in her with the shameful truth. She was thirteen when she told her mother
Finally, he witnessed the terrible revenge taken by her father when mother told him of Tara's tale. The belts with which he tied her to the bed, naked and on her stomache. The small leather whip which he employed to make her more pliant and receptive to his caresses. The painful tortuous violation and the final humilation as she felt the sea salt wetness upon her face. This was Mike's beloved father.
". . . no. . . no. . ." It was a small pitiful denial but michael knew in his heart that the images spoke the truth. He hung his head in shame.
"Look upon me Michael. Look upon the face of judge and executioner and be witness to my justice". Her voice had changed from the musical lilt to a deep sonorous and ominous voice which shook every nerve in his body.
"Watch and learn".
She turned to the dark corner of the room and it became awash in a soft green ethereal light. Upon the wall were two naked figures as if crucified. The wall behind them bled as if in shame for their deeds. These were his parents.
Michael looked to where his sister was but she was lost in shadows but, with mounting fear, he noticed that her eyes glowed a deep blood red instead of their normal (?) golden brown.
"Mother. . . you first". Her voice was venomous and as she finished speaking the music from the CD player swelled out as if to encapsulate the moment. Michael knew the song. It was by a group called Book Of Love and the song was their re-mix of Mike Oldfeld's Tubular Bells. In the background Linda Blair could be heard pleading for her mom to ". . . make it. . . STOP!!!. . .".
In Dreams page 2