At GCU

I don't like when people throw the words 'gifted' or 'genius' left and right. Sure, my sister and I were called that, and yes we were rather successful in school. But I know it's due to our upbringing, we grew up loving to solve hard problems, we grew up loving to learn new subjects, we grew up loving to discover new ideas and techniques. But I wouldn't call us gifted, just that our parents stired us towards that. True it wasn't hard for me to master hard concepts of math, it wasn't hard for Helena to ace all of her classes at school. But while I focused on the learning for the sake of learning aspects, Helena was more concerned with being the best. She had to get the highest scores, she had to run faster than any other, she had to swim quicker and hold her breath longer than anyone else. Because she wanted to be the best. But, one thing she knew how to do better than anyone else, was to get other people do what she wants. She had an unmatched skill in reading other people, she had an unmatched skill in finding what drives them, she had an unmatched skill in plotting plots, and she knew how to get said people to enact said plots. But even with that competitve nature, none of it ever came my way, she always was at my side, always been on my team and always tried to stay close.

Once, while I was studying at CIT, the same place our father lectured two years prior until he fell ill. Helena was studying there too, some high math classes as part of an extra curriculum program CIT had for "gifted" children. So we used to sit together on the lawn sometimes, and at times when she was bored she joined me in my classes, and even if a girl her age shouldn't be able to grasp such things, she had no problem with any of it. So, that fox knew my schedule, knew where I liked to sit, knew that the class I was in had low attendance, knew that the tables were solid from the front, and she also knew, I still don't know how, one of my deepest well kept fantasies. So that cunning shedevil somehow got two of the otherwise most beautiful and most brilliant girls in my class to do her bidding . In the middle of a lecture that had something to do with single surface topology, I'm not sure, the girl who sat to my left placed her hand on my lap. I didn't manage to react before the girl who sat on the other side helped the first girl free my growing cock from my jeans. They caught me completely off guard, while both of them behaving nonchalantly as though nothing was happening. So there I was, trying not to give it away, trying to fake my interest in the lecture, while the two girls stroked my hard member beneath the table. When I was approaching my climax, the girl on the left got down beneath the table, put her mouth on the head of my cock and took it all in. When we went out I saw her share it with the other girl in a passionate kiss, then the two girls turned and looked at me, a single rope of either saliva or cum still connecting them together, smiled and gestured me to follow them. I was surprised by how fast I got hard again, as we joined again in another empty classroom. Neither she nor the girls ever told me why they did it or how she got them to do it. That was the birthday gift my sister got me that year, and to think all I did for her is to get her concert tickets of a band we both liked.

The same year, when she was fifteen, when I was nineteen, our mother died. Sadly, it wasn't in a peaceful way. This impacted us immensely, I was unable to focus at class and so did Helena. We were living alone in our parents' house and it wasn't long before grief really started showing. We felt rage, we felt anger, we felt hatred towards the outside world. We sought to release it somewhere or on someone. That's whe I found relief in Krav Maga, a brutal martial art perfect for releasing anger, you can hammer away and your opponent, or opponents, had to return it, every blow you inflicted you felt back. There were circles when the one in the middle fended himself from attackers, as they kept coming, the goal was to exhaust you, and only then you began fighting, it wasn't finished until you were on the ground unable to move any longer. I took Helena with me, she enjoyed it, it didn't take her long until she mastered that as well, like everything she does. We even won a championship together. While I found release in it and managed to vent my anger, it seemed not enough for Helena, she didn't know when to stop, she would just continue to beat and be beaten back untill someone else usually stopped her. In one of the "friendly" matches our club had with the local MMA club Helena was matched against a short haired girl twice her size, Helena was well built and tall, so she was in the top weight tier which has no upper limit. The short haired girl with the severe looking small black eyes, supposedly winner of several national MMA championships, was no match to the silver eyed machine of pure rage. It was a long fight, but it looked like Helena wasn't fighting the short haired girl, but some inner demons she projected on the poor girl's body. We had to stop her from continuing throwing punches, because the short was just lying on the mattress motionless, it was a miracle then nothing happened to her, apart from some lost teeth and a broken nose. While paramedics took the short haired girl on a strecher, Hellena had just a single small cut on her, a cut that turned into a small scar running parallel to her cheekbone. That's when she stopped comming to the fights, she sought other ways to deal with her anger.

As time advanced, she grew wilder and wilder until coming home from classes and finding Helena screaming for release while sandwiched between two men wasn't an uncommon sight in our house anymore. She began to seek how to drown her emotions in pure carnal bliss and would do so in increasingly worrying ways. One day, I had to pick her up from school because she refused to remove her teacher's semen off her face, she somehow managed to have a married man with two children to forget his marriage, forget his duties and just give in to letting her give him a blowjob in the school's toilets. She then paraded that sperm covered face around the school. It was rumored among the kids that Johnny and Philip also contributed to that mess on her face, but there was no way to to prove or disprove it by just the sheer amount of cum she had on her face. She didn't let any one come any closer to her and she made sure they knew they will regret trying to wash her face. When I got there, I could only stand there, I just looked her in the eyes while she smilingly told me "I'm happy now,we can go home". When we drove home bit of that mess was drying out, a bit dripped on her clothes and some of it she removed from her cheek or brow and took into her mouth, and as we drove back how she began to sob quietly. We managed to come to an understanding with the school, they will help keeping it buried while she was not to attend the school any longer, we all agreed we should tell nobody about this, by some miracle none of the kids told their parents as well, I wasn't sure if it was beacuse they pitied her or because they feared what would she do to those who do tell. Needless to say, the teacher was let go, also kicked out of his house. A week later the coroner guessed the teacher was too drunk to feel how he went through his own windshield, also he might've been too drunk to feel how he was impailed by the pole.

It was beginning to be unbearable, I tried getting her into therapy, only to have two of her therapists beaten up by me for having sex with her and the third one failing to help in way. It was beginnig to be hard on me.

One day she crossed the line, that was the day we severed all connections between us, that day I was angry, that day I wasfilled with rage, how could she forsake the last shred of her morality just to pleasure herself. That day I regret the most. That day, in the morning, I woke up having her mouth around my cock nearing an orgasm while her own hand moving fast between her legs. She was sliding up and down saliving and gagging on my own cock. And her grey silver eyes had nothing in them, they were blank as though the person behind them was gone, her eyes had nothing but lust in them.

That moment, I jumped, that moment I went mad, that moment I denounced any connection I had to her. I'm not proud of myself, I should never have done that, but I was angry. I was shouting, I was fuming, I told her to deal with her issues alone because I had given up. I had given up on trying to fix her. I had given up on ever seeing my sweet little sister ever again, I knew she was gone, and I made sure Helena knew my sister was gone.

She did not move, few drops of spit went down from her lips down her cheek and eventually to her breasts, she slowed her hand movment as her juices came down along her thighs. But she was there, her stare was blank no more, her stare was of rage, I could have sworn she could burn people alive with that stare. The eyes weren't of grey any more, but of flaming silver. She yelled I didn't need to fix her, that she was at last getting better, that she saw how much I tried and wanted to reward me. But if I wanted nothing to do with her, then she will leave and disappear. If I thought the little precious sister was gone then I wasn't only right but that little sister is dead, just like our parents. And from now own we're not brother and sister, we're not even strangers to each other, we were null and void, nothing. And with that she went put on some clothes, got out of the door and disappeared. I did not know where to.

I understood I have nothing else binding me here, I have nothing else I have to do, so the next week I left my studies, and joined the army.

Next time we saw eachother , she was sleeping next to my bed in hospital. I was recovering slowly, and she was there all the time, to help me adjust to my new life bound to a wheel chair, to help me adjust to life with just one arm. She was there during my recovery, she was there during the long nights, she was there when I needed my diapers change, she was there when I needed her to calm me when I cried, she was there all the time. And she was also there when a friend of our mother's from S.T.A.R labs came with a very bizarre proposal.

Right now, I couldn't be prouder in my sister, after we rejoined we talked about everything, we talked about our parents, we talk about what happened after she left the door, we also talked about what happened moments before. She told me how she thought losing this last taboo, passing that line was the thing that will finally set her free, and how now she sees how foolish she was.

I told her of the Army, I told her about the war, I told her about how we helped fixing a village's well, I told her how I spent half a day disarming an explosive satchel from around a child's neck. I told her how I feared and cowered during artillery shelling, I told her how I was shot, and how I shot back the man who injured me, how we both while bleeding patched eachother up, how even though I helped him at first I let that man die and wither. I told her how second man I killed was far easier. I told her how I lied to my friend saying he will be fine while holding his hand, and then I watched him fade and become nothing. I told her how I no longer believe life has any meaning. I also told her how I lay, stone pillar on my legs and my right arm across my chest, I told her how strange it felt to be able to feel the weight of my hand but being unable to feel anything with it until I saw it was disconected from my body. I told her how I felt fear and regret that I may never see my little sister's face. At last I told her, how happy I was, how all my anger faded as soon as I opened my eyes and saw here sleeping on a chair right next to my bed. How I voew to never leave her ever again.

She, on the other hand, told me of her travels how she scoured the world, how she've been to the Amazonas, how she befriended a sloth in Nicaragua, how she shouted her lungs out in Machu picchu, how she rode horses in Patagonia, how she ate ice cream in Buenos aires. She told me how she has been to noman's land in a green field in Belgium. How she almost managed to steal the Mona Lisa after disabling the Louvre's alarams, before deciding not to and leaving after alerting the security. She told me how she scaled up the Big Ben while avoiding the secrurity there, how she sat on top of the great Pyramid near Giza watching the distant sunset, she told me how she met the sunrise in the Mongolian steppes, and how she lazily passed an afternoon drifting on a giant wheel in a river in Vietnam, while the next noon she was deep in the jungles around Chang Mai. She told me of each tattoo she got, what does it mean and where did she get it. She also told me about the Belorussian boy she got out of a burning house, his name was Sasha and his aunt made the tastiest borscht she ever tried. But she also told me, how she woke up bound not knowing where she was, only remembering she was in some fullmoon party the night before on some godforsaken island in Thailand. She told me how her captors brought her to the yacht of the man who bought her. She also told me, how she only used a single kitchen knife to slit all the throats of that man's henchmen. And him she kept alive and adrift in the ocean, bound to his bed with his caught off balls in his mouth. She told me how she stole his money and didn't know what to do, until she heard of what had happened to me. She left everything again, just to be at my side in the hospital. There she took and oath to herself, that no matter what we will never be apart again, she will let nothing and no one not her inner demons, not even real demons of hell, nothing will separate us ever again. She stayed there while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, sometimes by herself, other times Stephanie came to give her company, until finally I awoke at last.

From that day, we decided to leave our old life behind, and to try and find some mundane and more relaxed life, as mundane and relaxed as possible for people like us. We started traveling together, go camping at least once a month. Helena started to get interested in studying again, after some of her old "convincing" she was accepted to Gotham City University, one of the best schools in the world, with just passing a few test they threw at her. And now at last, all the dark clouds behind she was walking around the campus of GCU ogling attractive people of both sexes, and looked as though she was cured of her inner demons, she was just enjoying life it seems.

"Wait, how did you get accepted if you didn't choose your major" the sweet pancake lover asked Helena. "Easy, I was accepted to both, they said I could do both or choose one, because many of the subjects are similar it doesn't really matter anyway" the smiling brunette shouted as she began to enter an old looking building. "So we're mainly here to see should I choose, and to meet hot girls" she finished before vanished. "But how one of the most prestigious universities in the world bent to some foolish twenty year old?" The sweet innocent blonde asked. "There is one thing she knows how to do better than anyone else, and it is to get other people do what she wants. She has an unmatched skill in reading other people, she has an unmatched skill in finding what drives them, she has an unmatched skill in plotting plots, and she knows how to get said people to enact said plots. This is the sad truth of it, we will never really know how she's doing it, but count on herto do so." I finished, as I watched her disappear into that old building, perhaps if she can just enjoy life then so can I, and I have just the parter I would need for such a plot, a partner who is currently fighting her hair the refuses to be still in the strong winds of teh Gotham hills.