103

We were at home alone. It was our early teenage years. We had been having an incestuous affair for several years. Curiosity as kids had brought us to this moment. She called me into her room and from her purse extracted a condom. I can remember the setting sun shining through the window. She wanted to have sex, but we were too young and inexperienced and couldn't connect. To the best of my knowledge it was the last time that we were intimate. 

My sister stuttered from the time she started talking and throughout the years she had furious confrontations with my mother. One time my mother called the police and the officers took my sister away while all the neighbors watched her being placed in the squad car.

"Looking back I now realized the cause of her distress," my mother wrote as I became the convenient scapegoat for her failures. If anyone has suffered from those encounters, I have been the victim. I can blame my sister for turning me into a sex addict; the pleasure has been too much to resist. 

With the exception of my youngest brother, I don't communicate with the rest of my siblings. We have no problems when I visit, but they have their kids and grandkids, so I hardly rate of their list of priorities, but my youngest brother and I retain a strong bond. 

When I informed him that mother had exiled me permanently, he wrote, "We're talking about something that happened more than 50 years ago. Our sister doesn't quit, does she? If it isn't one thing, it's another. Don't worry. You will be good with me."

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