57. Choke The Turkey pt. 2

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Noah POV


After some hours of playing around with Jean and showing her how to play a few video games (which she wasn't too interested in), my siblings came around, inevitably. Which meant Dallas getting up too when all I wished was that she'd sleep until tomorrow. My sister was in the way of everything and between me having Jean to myself, being mine, as far allowed as both an eleven-year-old and a nine-year-old were; we weren't even of dating age as far as I or any rational person was concerned. However. . . The purest parts of me loved her and that was all that mattered, is that she knew of my love for her. 

"The games have been fun, Noah but now that Dallas is up. . . Maybe we can play with them?" Jean asked. 

"Sure." I sighed. I couldn't deny her anything, I wasn't in the position to. But I wanted to be. At the cost of making me a villain to her, yes I wanted to be in the position to deny her anything. I wanted to lord over her and make my life her's and her's, mine. 

I checked out, turning my head away from her. Dejected. "I should go help out my grandfather's dishes." meaning Santiago and his infamous camrones vallarta, God knows what with shrimp in it served as an appetizer. I kissed her on the cheek before getting up and leaving. "I'll talk to you later." I turned cold.

I could feel Jean reach for the hem of my skirt but I was strong in my gait when I walked away from her that the fabric simply left with me and out of her finger's grasp. A helpless little wheeze left her lips in protest but it was meaningless. At least to me, it was. "hola hijo,"

"Abuelo. . ." I said. 



---



We sat in an awkward circle in the evening, all of us kids watching television. I couldn't imagine how awkward it was for Jean to sit between Dallas and I. I felt the urge to pull her away from the scene and have her company solely for myself, unbothered and unmarred from the impressions of my sister. This was supposed to be a day of peaceful times, not awkward times. I sat up from the bed, unable to avoid my affections, my frustrations. 

"Where are you going?" Jean asks. 

"I'm not going to sit here and makeup as if she didn't kiss you on vacation without your consent!" I glowered. 

Everyone stood up off the couch. "you what?!"

Fudge. "Dallas what did what now?" aunt Vera asked, coming in with a  bowl of popcorn. 

Dallas spoke up for herself, looking toward my aunt. "Aunt Vera it's not what you think. . ."

"What is it then?" My aunt asked. 

"I did kiss her but I wanted to--" I stormed away before Dallas can finish her sham of a story. I didn't want to hear any more of her excuses for her stupid sapphic behavior or Jean's ignorance, I proceeded to walk down the stairs to the basement, I had to blow off some steam, I remember visiting here for the first time there was a dart set, the board came with twenty darts. 

I took a handful, throwing a dart into the board, imagining my half-sister's back. How I despised her. . . How she was also my favorite sister too. It was painful to decipher the hate. Then I contemplated how young we all are, the human lifespan can stretch from sixty-five very well to after a hundred years old, the human brain doesn't stop maturing roughly up until twenty-five, and most people lose their virginities at the age of their late teens well into their late twenties and people will find their highschool sweethearts or the concept of it when they are fifteen to sixteen. Here I was, eleven years old, too young to begin to gather the entirety of love, but I felt the warmth for Jean now. I knew I should not be so serious about my grasp on her, it almost consumed me other than my meticulous studies and love for arts and the craft of ancient war. 

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