I was 17, but my parents did not know that I drank often, and if they ever caught me comming home from a party, they would probably kill me. To use my plan, Blair and I would need to be home alone for at least 1 night and the morning after, so I impatiently waited for something to come up, causing my parents to go away for a weekend. A few weeks later, which seemed like years, my parents decided to go away for the weekend with some friends. On a Monday night they told us at dinner that they would be going away next weekend, I almost jumped out of my chair. Finally I would be able to try to get inside my sister. The next day after school, I immediately called up my friend, and using his fake ID, he bought me some vodka. I went home, and plopped on the couch to watch some TV. A few minutes later, Blair came in and sat down beside me."Hey Joe!" she said."Hey Blair, how was your day?" Meh, same old stuff."We sat in silence for a few minutes watching the TV when Blair. Something had stirred me. I lay listening, straining to hear a sound. Nothing. Not a whisper in the trees. Not the mice in the attic. It was the silence of a tomb. Can you imagine that silence? A quiet so complete that your ears bleed from the strain of listening… and your head aches from trying to recall the sound of her voice… and then she whispers. Did she whisper before? ‘Do you dream about me? Tell me the truth. Do you dream you are with me?’ And I turn my head, and I open my eyes, and I peer into the darkness where she lay… once lay. And I can smell the musky stain of her body, giddy, replete, and see her skin glowing, and feel her stretched-out heat beneath the bed-sheet. When was that? Did we ever have that? How many nights since she lay beside me? I try to remember. It must be hundreds. I lay on my back and I stare wide-eyed trying to cleaver the darkness, trying to part the way until the dawn. I can’t sleep, mustn’t sleep. If I sleep she’ll call me. And I’m afraid to see.
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