To The Grave

You pour yourself another glass of rum, this time with no mixer. It’s your fourth of the night, and your vision begins to blur. You feel warm and friendly, smiling as your sister-in-law passes by you, stroking your shoulder gently with her supple hand. Her auburn hair sways before your eyes, and you find it hard to take your eyes away from it. You feel another tap on your shoulder moments later. You turn towards it, and see your wife, ‘Having a good time?’ she asks, smiling.

‘Of course,’ you say, before taking a sip of the smooth, spiced nectar.

‘Slow down, you haven’t had anything to eat.’

‘Relax, I’ll be fine. How late is everyone staying?’

‘I’m not sure. Not too late.’

‘I have work tomorrow.’

‘Then don’t drink so much!’ she says, taking the glass from your hand. You smile, wrap your arm around her waist and snatch the glass back, ‘Cheeky sod,’ she says, taking your hand in hers.

‘I’ll be outside having a smoke,’ you tell her, releasing her from your grasp. She nods and walks over to the other guests. You finish off the glass and quickly pour another, though this time you pour double. You pull a cigarette from your pocket as your sister-in-law walks over to you, ‘Oh hey,’ you say nonchalantly.

‘Hiya stranger,’ she says as she hugs you tightly. She spots the cigarette in your hand, ‘Smoke?’

‘Yeah, I’m about to go now.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

You both head outside. The crisp air bites at your exposed cheeks and crawls its way down your throat as you inhale a sharp breath. You wield your lighter and spark your cigarette, inhaling again to taste the cancerous fumes. You sigh deeply and turn your attention to your sister-in-law, and light her cigarette as well, ‘It’s nice to see you,’ you say, taking another sip from your potent drink after the words leave your mouth.

‘And you. I feel like I never get to see you guys!’

You notice her large protruding breasts and can’t help but steal a glance, ‘The door’s always open for you.’

‘I know that,’ she says, stroking your arm as she does, ‘It’s just that I’m so busy with work. You guys should come visit me more; I’m all alone in that house, it would be nice to have some company.’

‘Company?’

‘Yeah, you and my sister, or just my sister, or just you really. It’d be nice to have adult time.’

You smile, picking up on the innuendo, ‘Right, “adult time”. Well, I’d love adult time with you.’

She raises an eyebrow, but before she can speak the backdoor opens, ‘Hey guys, we’re about to cut the cake,’ your wife declares, gesturing you both inside. You finish your drink, go inside, and refill your glass, refusing a plate of cake from one of the guests. You opt to finish your drink instead.

After a few hours, the night begins to wind down, prompting your guests to suggest a late-night film. You oblige. You turn to the sofa, realising that the only free seats are next to your sister-in-law or your wife. The alcohol forces you to take the seat beside your sister-in-law, and she cuddles into you as she has done a thousand times before. You wrap your arm around her and feel your heart beat heavy against your chest. Your mouth begins to salivate as you envision spending a night in bed with her. Her soft skin, her jutting bosom and her tender lips all stimulate you. She moves, breaking your thoughts. She places one leg on you, and the other on the arm of the sofa, spreading her legs, allowing the aroma of sex to permeate your nostrils. She grabs a blanket from the end of the sofa and lays it across you both. You take a deep breath, and with your free hand you place it on her left inner thigh.

She has no objections.

You smile and squeeze it gently.

She has no objections.

You move your hand closer to her womanhood.

She has no objections.

You move your hand over to her other thigh, making sure to gently stroke her lips, as if you had done so by accident.

She has no objections.

With your hand on her right thigh, you begin to gently massage it.

She has no objections.

You slide your hand up, closer and closer to her honeypot.

She has no objections.

You brush it again, this time with more conviction.

She squirms in her seat slightly but continues to hold her legs open for you.

You allow your hand to rest comfortably on her maws.

She has no objections.

You begin to massage it, slowly at first and then more passionately.

She grabs your hand, turns to you, and shakes her head, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she whispers.

‘I, uh, I thought you wanted it…’ you slur, moving your hand away quickly, ‘I’m sorry.’

She says nothing, but gets up from the sofa, ‘I’m going for a smoke,’ she declares to the room, grabbing a pre-rolled cigarette from her jacket. She walks out of the living room, into the kitchen and then finally outside into the garden.

‘I think I’ll join her,’ you say, but everyone is transfixed on the film. You pick up your pack of cigarettes from the dining room table and follow her outside.

‘What the fuck was that about?’ she demands, ‘What the fuck were you thinking?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just drunk. Rum makes me act weird,’ you confess, before taking a long pull on your cigarette.

‘I have to tell my sister about this,’ she whispers to herself.

‘No,’ you blurt, the alcohol suddenly loosening its grip on your impairment, ‘Please don’t do that, it was a silly drunken mistake.’

‘You touched me up, how was that a fucking mistake?’

‘Please, not so loud, the neighbours.’

‘That’s what you care about? Not the fact that you just cheated on my sister? Your wife?’

‘I never cheated on her; it’s not like we just had sex.’

‘But you tried to feel me… down there.’

‘I’m just drunk, plus you’ve been flirting with me all night; I thought you wanted it.’

‘So, you’ve done this before? To other girls when you’ve been drunk? Jesus Christ, how many times have you cheated on my sister?’

‘Never,’ you lie, taking another pull on the cigarette. You allow the smoke to fill your mouth before inhaling it into your lungs. You feel at ease for a moment, but as you expel the fumes, the ease is replaced with dread, ‘Please, you have to keep this between us. Why don’t you come to my work tomorrow evening? We can talk about this away from everyone.’

‘Keep this a secret? From my sister? We tell each-other everything; how can you expect me not to tell her that her husband tried to have his way with me in the same room as her?’

‘Please, for fucks sake, keep it down,’ you plead, ‘I made a mistake, a silly drunken mistake. It hasn’t happened before, and it won’t happen again.’

She sighs deeply and takes a pull from her cigarette. After a few moments, she throws the butt to the floor and stomps it out, ‘I won’t tell her,’ she looks you in your eyes, ‘But you will. Tomorrow. After our little chat at your work. You come home, you look your wife in her eyes, and you tell her what a piece of shit cheating dirt-bag you are. Or I will tell her. You understand?’

You nod, ‘I’ll tell her.’

‘You fucking better.’

She walks past you, barging you with her shoulder as she does. You turn around and grab her by the arm, ‘Thank you,’ you whisper, your face beginning to burn red.

She slaps your hand away, ‘Don’t you dare thank me. I’m disgusted with you.’ She walks back inside, tells everyone she is going home, and leaves without saying a word to you.

Then next morning, you wake to the light piercing through the curtains. You roll over and narrowly open your eyes, seeing the living room. Carefully, you lift yourself up. Your head throbs and your bones ache. You reach around for your phone, finding only a broken cigarette beside you. Your wife comes into the living room, ‘Good morning honey.’

‘Hey,’ you croak. Your throat feels like razorblades, ‘What time is it?’

‘A little after 11am. You were out cold.’

You groan, holding your head, ‘I’ve got to get ready for work.’

‘Okay honey. My sister was acting a little weird, wasn’t she?’

‘Your sister?’ your memory of last night is hazy, but you recall the incident vividly. You pray it was just a nightmare, ‘Did she say anything to you?’ you blurt.

‘Like what?’

‘Anything.’

‘Well, she just up and left after she had that smoke with you and then you passed out on the sofa. Did you say anything to her? You didn’t tell her about our trip to Paris, did you? She’s always wanted to go.’

‘No, no, I didn’t,’ you sigh, leaning back on the sofa in triumph. You realise she’s holding up her end of the bargain.

Your wife sighs and then shrugs her shoulders, ‘Oh well. Guess she was just tired.’

Just as your wife finishes her words, her phone begins to buzz. You feel your heart sink to the depths of your bowels, and cannot stop yourself from asking, ‘Who is that?’

‘My sister…’ she says, before answering the phone, ‘Hello… are you okay? Wait, slow down… you’re outside?... Now?... Why?... Yeah, I can come out… give me a second… okay, bye. She’s outside and wants to speak to me. Why is she acting so strange?’

You chuckle nervously to yourself, ‘I don’t know. Maybe she had a weird dream,’ you suggest. Your wife shrugs and turns to the front door, closing it softly behind her. Your headache has gone, replaced with blood rushing to your cheeks. Your body feels heavy as you recall the events of the night before. You recoil in disgust at your actions, but the events continue to playback in your mind, each time being more uncomfortable to watch than the last. You shake your head vigorously and throw yourself onto your feet. You run upstairs, hoping to wash and be out the door before your sister-in-law can describe your horrific behaviour. You make it upstairs, heave the bathroom door open and dash inside, slamming it behind you. You lean against the door and sink to the floor, holding your head as you do, ‘Please God, let this be a dream,’ you cry, as the warm blood encircles your cheeks more forcefully. The ghastly thoughts of last night continue to plague your mind like a disease, and you are unable to cure yourself. You hit your head with your fist, just once at first, but more and more in an effort to rid your mind of the affliction.

You hear the front door crash shut. ‘Where the fuck are you?!’ your wife howls.

You take a deep breath, stand on your feet, and open the door, ‘I’m in here.’

Your wife reaches the top of the stairs with blistering pace, ‘What the fuck did you do to my sister you fucking animal?!’

‘Your sister? What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Don’t play dumb! She told me what you did to her. You pig, how could you?! How could you do that to her? To me? Are you not ashamed? Are you not embarrassed?’

Each vilified syllable slices at your heart, adding to your mortification, ‘I, I, I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ you lie, hoping to salvage some pride, ‘You said it yourself, your sister was acting weird. She must not be remembering things clearly; she had a lot to drink,’ your words are serpents, trying their best to slither their way to your salvation.

‘You must take me for a mug; my sister would never lie to me, and she wasn’t drinking last night, remember? Oh wait, how could you remember, you were shit-faced the whole night!’

‘And fucking what if I had a little to drink? Whatever it is your sister is telling you is bullshit!’

‘So, you didn’t try and…’ she throws her arms up in disgust, ‘God, I can’t even say the words!’

‘Can’t say what?’

‘You tried to have sex with her!’

You scrunch your face in an attempt to look befuddled, but you worry that the cherry crimson colour of your cheeks will fracture the façade, ‘I did no such thing! You think I would do that to you?’

‘My sister would never lie to me. Why the fuck would she make up such a horrible thing? What the fuck did you do to her last night?’

‘I didn’t do anything!’ you found that lie easier, as it wasn’t completely untrue. Your wife scoffs and turns away from you. You grab her arm as you notice her about to step onto the stairs, ‘Please, wait. You have to believe me; nothing like that happened.’

She slaps your hand away forcefully, ‘I thought it was strange when you both got up for a cigarette like that. Did you try and do it outside like the dog you are?’

‘Please, nothing like that happened.’

‘You’re a fucking embarrassment,’ she says, a statement you also agree with. She walks away, retreating into the safety of the living room away from you. The living room door slams, and the stillness in the air is suffocating. You hold your head in your hands for a moment, contemplating how you could ever face her again.

‘I couldn’t sleep at all last night,’ she begins, never glancing at you. Your face refuses to adopt a shade other than red as you sit in the garden with your wife and sister-in-law, ‘He made me promise not to tell you until he spoke to me today, but as your sister I couldn’t do that. The thought of keeping this from you made me feel sick.’

‘I told you that because we needed to sort it out between ourselves first.’

‘You told me that so you could try and come up with some lie to tell your wife,’ she spits.

‘There’s nothing to lie about. Nothing happened between us.’

‘Be quiet, both of you,’ your wife barks. You both fall silent. Your wife sighs deeply, ‘My sister told me that you tried to… you know… and you’re saying no. Who am I supposed to believe?’

‘All I know is,’ you begin, looking your wife in her eyes, ‘we were on the sofa, cuddling. I had my hand on her thigh, no denying that. I then tried to give her a massage like I have done a hundred times before. I worked on her legs, and that was it. I didn’t try and ‘feel her up’ or whatever it is she thinks I did. I was just being friendly, and if that gets misconstrued in anyway, then that isn’t my fault.’

‘You lying piece of shit. You tried to fuck me last night and you know it. You even admitted it to me!’

‘No, I never admitted anything,’ you lie. Your face burns even hotter than before, but you are determined to keep the truth to yourself for as long as you can, ‘I told you I was sorry you thought I was trying to feel you up and that I would never do that.’

‘You liar! You scumbag; you placed your hand on my pussy and tried to have your way with me!’

‘Please sis, you don’t have to be so loud.’

‘He just admitted that we spoke about it last night! Why didn’t he bring it up with you last night, or even this morning? He’s lying to you!’

‘I didn’t say anything because I thought we had forgotten about it and laughed it off. I didn’t know you would still be thinking about it.’

‘Are you really going to believe this? Do you really think I would lie to you about him putting his hands all over me?’

Your wife rubs her forehead intently, ‘I’m sorry sis, but it’s your word against his. I’m not calling you a liar, but at the same time, I believe him. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.’

Your sister-in-law looked stunned, consumed with confusion, ‘You’re a bigger idiot than I thought,’ she murmurs, throwing herself to her feet. She points a condemning finger at you, before uttering, ‘When she realises what you really did, I’m going to laugh in your face.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ your wife says, which forces her sisters deathly gaze unto her.

‘I already told our mother and aunties about what he did. They’re all as disgusted as I am. They’re all going to think you’re a fool for staying with him. I hope you’re proud of yourself.’

You sink lower and lower into your chair with each word she utters, hoping to make yourself as small as possible. You think that perhaps you’ll disappear entirely, ‘Why the fuck would you tell them?’ your wife asks through gritted teeth.

‘Because it was traumatic for me! I had to tell someone!’

‘You told them all before you told me anything? This doesn’t concern them! How am I supposed to look at them when you’ve fed them lies?’ your wife shouts.

‘Lies? LIES?! Stop defending him! You just wait until the truth comes out!’ your sister-in-law shrieks, before turning to the door. She claws it open, slamming it hard against the wall. She leaves it open, walks in and leaves the house entirely, slamming the front door with such force that the noise threatens to burst your ears.

‘I can’t believe they all know…’ your wife whispers in disbelief, which sends more shame to your already ruptured ego. You bring your knees to your chin and hold yourself, as the shame is mixed with disgust in yourself. You fear the redness in your face will become a permanent addition to your pigmentation. Suddenly, your wife turns to you, tears in her eyes and visibly shaking. She shakes her head aggressively, and points her finger at you, ‘You really fucked up. You really fucked up. My family will never be the same because of you. We will never be the same because of you. I can’t look at you anymore. I don’t care who’s telling the truth; what matters now is how it looks on me now that everyone knows about this stunt of yours,’ she turns around, ‘I’m going out. Don’t bother calling me. You should work late tonight so I don’t have to see you, and when you get home, I don’t want you in the same bed as me. I want you to sleep on the sofa. Stay the fuck away from me,’ she says, before she leaves the house in silence.

You watch her leave, regretting the entire night. You wish you didn’t drink so much. You wish you didn’t let your own sick thoughts get the better of you. You wish you never sat next to your sister-in-law on the sofa. You wish you never tried to engage in any sort of sexual activity with her. You wish you never lied. You wish there were some way of eradicating the memory of last night entirely. Instead, you know you must live with this shame for all eternity. You recline your head back, sigh once more and sit there for the next hour as you wallow in the excruciating gloom of your depraved mind.