A Cure for the Blues

Author's Note: I'm missing my Bailey babies terribly again. I'm going to do my very best to get to the point with this thread in hopes of getting to some sort of conclusion before my other demands inevitably pulls me away again. No promises how far we get.

***

Heavy metal chords vibrates the west wall of your room and bubbly pop tunes filter over from across the hall. Mom was out for the night and your sisters were taking advantage of the opportunity to listen to their music without headphones and as loud as they wanted to. It was a tradition that went all the way back to your childhood. Back then you would have been right there with them but as it was your room is a dark, silent void.

You are laying on your bed staring at your ceiling, numb. Bodily, mentally, and spiritually you were just…numb. A deep melancholy had settled into your heart and try as you might you simply couldn’t shake it. Your grades were suffering, you’d been ignoring your health and appearance, and your days now consisted mostly of watching shows or playing games that you really didn’t give a shit about. A month ago you broke up with your girlfriend Allison thinking that maybe it was that loveless relationship that was dragging you down. It didn’t help. A week ago you’d worked up your courage to approach a new girl, a stunning red head that you’d had your eye on for awhile, only to find out that you’d missed your opportunity as she had just recently begun seeing someone. To add salt to the wound that someone turned out to be your own big sister. It was the universe having a laugh at you as there was no way Fiona could have known that you had an interest in the gorgeous singer but damn if it didn’t feel like your old bully had once again gotten one over you. In another time that would have pissed you off but as it was it only plunged you deeper into the gray desolation that passed as your life. The highlights of your bleak existence were your frequent masturbation sessions where, for a couple of seconds at least, an orgasm might break through to let you feel something again. But even jerking off was becoming dull and routine. It was becoming so bad that some days you could barely even get it up. In short, you were DEPRESSED!

You were missing something. Something just wasn’t right. There was a hole that ACHED to be filled. For a time you blamed the ‘big reveal’ from two years ago thinking that it had somehow left an incurable wound on your male ego or perhaps that your family’s lack of proper moral values had shook the foundation of your own ethics so profoundly that it left you doubting everything. But, as the months passed, you realized the issue went back further and deeper than the eccentric nature of your family. If anything…their love was the only thing that kept you going. You had done what you could not to darken their lives with your despair but it was getting harder and harder to hide it.

Turning your head you see that it was barely past 8:30. It was too early to go to sleep but damned if you could think of a single thing to do. You lay there watching the numbers change for a full ten minutes. You let out a defeated sigh. It would be a quick fap then turning in early. There were a million other things that you SHOULD do but not one other thing came to mind that you actually COULD do.

It was then that a glint of color is injected into your gray world in the form of giggling from out in the hallway. It was Zoey, Elsie’s bubble-headed best friend. You hadn’t even realized that she was visiting. Since they graduated Elsie had gone onto higher education and Zoey into hairdressing but despite their disparate paths the pair had remained fast friends. It always brightened your day when you saw her and your sister together as Zoey was one of the few people in the world that Elsie allowed herself to relax with and be herself.

In a whisper raised loud enough to cut through the music Elsie hisses. “Zoey! Stop! STOP!”

“He he he! Too late!”

Just then you hear something slide under your bedroom door. Sitting up you look to see a small, square white envelope on the floor.

“ZOEY! Oh my God!” Your locked doorknob begins to jiggle frantically as someone tries to open it. “Oh my God! What have you done?”

“Take it easy, El.” Zoey titters. “I don’t even think he’s home.”

“But what about when he does come home? Oh my God!” At the crack along the bottom of your door you see shadows move then a pair of slender fingers poke through trying to reach the envelope.

“El. You’ve written that same thing a hundred times and shredded it a hundred times. Let’s just see what happens.”

“Ohhh! You don’t understand, Zoey.” Elsie says, her voice frantic. “Jesse’s a good boy. He’s not like other guys! Ohhhh! He’s going to hate me!”

Hate her? Hate Elsie? Impossible! What the hell was this all about?

“El?” You call.

“EEP!” The fingers disappear followed by a scramble on the other side of the door. “He’s home!”

“Hi Jesse!”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Elsie says in a panic. “Oh my God! Jesse…don’t open that envelope! Please!” There is another scramble of thumps, giggles and harsh whispers until…SLAM! Elsie’s door slams shut so loud that it shakes the house.

“EY! Take it easy over there!” Fiona barks from her room. “Mom’ll blame me if anything’s broken!”

You slip off your bed and walk over to stand over the envelope. You stare a moment before bending down to pick it up. It was a nice envelope, made from some sort of fancy high-end paper, and on it’s front is written ‘Mr. Bailey’. The bold, swirling letters are handwritten in black ink and were so stylized as to border on proper calligraphy. Looking at the door you weigh up what to do. Elsie asked you not to open the envelope, obviously because the contents would embarrass her. You really ought to respect her wishes and return it unopened…but your curiosity was killing you. What was this about? What could possibly be inside this envelope that could make you ‘hate’ your beloved little sister?

Curiosity wins out in the end. Zoey mentioned that Elsie had written this note before and shredded them each time. You simply had to know. Before opening it you find your pocket knife as it seemed a shame to just tear an envelope so fancy. Neatly you slice open the top and tip the envelope onto your bed. A plain square card slip out. As you pick it up you feel that this too was of high quality stock. You look at it front and back, both were blank, then unfold it to read what was inside…