My inner anxiety ends when I see the urns. I think my mind crashed, since I don't remember how I wore my clothes or how I left the hospital. I do remember the thought I had in mind however, about how people as good and kind as my parents could finish in such small containers, depriving me of their laughter or even their good-natured scoldings?
As we finally arrived home, I let myself fall down onto the couch and refuse to move, looking around in a daze with my sister leaving me there probably to go change her clothes.
*******
Right now I am feeling a little nudging with what seems like my sister's voice calling me. I gently open my eyes and see her bending over me with her love for me almost dripping from her eyes, entrancing me and making me realize that we only have each other now.
"Max, I know you are tired but we need to take care of your bath and get you something to eat, then we can go to sleep. What do you think?"
That brought me out of my daze. Looking around, I'm still on the couch in the living room, and judging by the sheet covering me, my sister must have taken care of me while I was asleep.
She helps me stand up since my right leg is wounded and it would not be good to forcibly use it for support. We go to the upper floor and enter the main bathroom.
The house is medium-sized and it was easy for my parents to buy one like that given we are middle class people. It has a ground floor, an upper floor and an attic, a small enclosed front yard with a lawn and a bigger backyard where I used to play.
The living room is on the ground floor or rather, that whole floor is one big room separated into living area, dining area, kitchen area and a reading area with a few shelves for the books. There is also a garage with only enough space for one medium-sized car where we also put miscellaneous things like tools, lawnmower and other things.
Before I forget, the ground floor has a toilet too, for the guests that may need it so as to preserve the privacy of the upper floor. And, speaking of the latter, there are four rooms there, one for the parents, two for my sister and I, and one guest room I guess. There is also one bathroom but since the parents' room has an adjacent bathroom, only my sister and I use it.
When we arrive at the bathroom upstairs, Lizbeth -that's what I call my sister, Liz or Lizbeth, short for Elizabeth-
So, Lizbeth helps me out of my black dress. She opens the zipper on the back, helps me take my arms out of the sleeves and lets the dress fall on the bathroom floor.
She helps me take off my bra, leaving my budding breasts exposed, making me a little uncomfortable, unlike before. Worse still is when she helps me out of my new lace panty, I fidget because the friction of the underwear on my vagina seems amplified to me, cause Liz to ask me with worry:
"Max, what's wrong? Are you alright?"
I can only force myself to calm down so I reply to her:
"Don't worry sis, I'm fine."
I'm sure my smile was forced because she stops asking questions but becomes more attentive to me. She helps me sit down and starts taking off her clothes.
It is not the first time. We have taken baths together before, but tonight, I am feeling a little bit self-conscious with different sensations colliding within me and the grief messing with my head, and my heart.
I almost imagine myself shouting all my frustrations away but, I can't give Liz more trouble. She is already sufficiently worried about me.
After she finishes getting naked, she first secures my bandages then helps me into the bathtub before joining me. She starts to rub me gently with hands full of foam, starting with my arms, then the back before taking care of my armpits.
For just the time of a bath, I stop thinking about my grief concentrating on the care my sister was showing me.
Afterward, she cleans my stomach, then my chest while going around my protrusions there, before them rubbing gently but forcefully, making my nipples erect. She smiles at me and said:
"We can't have them stay small, right?"
I can only try to distract myself by thinking of irrelevant things but it is proving difficult. The previously normal and ordinary sensations are now tainted with another perspective, making them more obvious, more... More many things that they were not before.
After my chest, she starts to clean my thighs, then my calves, followed by my feet. When she starts to clean between my toes gently with her fingers, what started rising from my lower abdomen when she was working on my chest comes back, causing me to fold my toes, and her to giggle in amusement.
After she is satisfied with her job, she starts to go up the inner side of my thighs before arriving at my crotch. When she looks at me, she seems to understand something since she says:
"Bear with me a little, Max. It would be bad if you were to develop a sickness from here."
When she receives my assent, she starts to rub the little bit of soft hair that I have on my Mons Venus. Then she thoroughly rubs the sides of my genitals before parting the lips to rub the inner side without ever going inside.
But, it is already enough for me to have to stifle some embarrassing sounds. This brings a mischievous smile to my sister who then deviates from the real purpose of what she is doing.
I jump all of a sudden when she changes from her constant rhythm and starts going around up to the little protrusion above my urethra.
With all my confusions, my body seems to betray me by giving my sister the liquid ammunition needed to rub better. Just five minutes gripping the bathtub, and I seem to throw away my frustrations, confusions and grief, ejecting them fiercely and determinedly amidst inner contractions and outer convulsions.
I see Liz's smile widen before she cleans herself after standing up, causing me to watch in fascination as she takes care of her mature and feminine body.
After taking care of our hairs, we take a shower before she helps me to my room while wearing a towel. Once inside, I see the girly decoration and the bed where I will have to stay alone with my thoughts.
This causes me to stop advancing and grip my sister's arm. When she turns to me, she seems to understand my distress after seeing me gazing with reluctance at my bed.
"Max, if you want you can stay with me. I could also use some company."
Her forlorn smile at the end makes me realize that she too is dealing with the grief brought by the loss of our parents.
I take a t-shirt and pants that she helps me wear. I will need time to get used to feminine clothes once again.
After forcing me downstairs to eat something light that she made, we lock everything then come to her room where she puts her towel aside and wears a nightgown.
When we are ready, she turns the lights off and hugs me on her chest, providing me with the warmth I need to fight the grief that seems loud in the silence.
The relief from the bath faded away. Tears start coming out of my eyes. I instinctively take her right breast out of the nightgown and start sucking its nipple while silently crying. Meanwhile she strokes my hair and handles me like a baby with such care and gentleness that my problems seem to melt away.
Despite not being in a good state to appreciate how beautiful her breast is, I can't help but distractedly remark at the back of my head, before being embraced by darkness, that her nipple seems to harden in excitation.