Living Dolls

6Heide

It was difficult to sleep last night. I mean, it's always difficult for me, but I just kept remembering that little breakdown Carmen shot at me last night. I even got up in the middle of the night to go to her room to throw her off the bed as revenge, but Ernest heard me and sent me back to bed.

Used to the schedule, I already got up and moved downstairs by the time I heard the muffled rummaging outside. I dragged over a chair in order to reach up the counter for the jar of sugar Irene was always so insistent to hide. I was just reaching for it when there was a pound on the ground.

I clench my teeth, struggling to keep a hold of the jar. I didn't know he was getting up this early! I didn't even feel his steps! "No-!" I was more concerned over the jar than my own safety. Unable to keep my balance in this quake, I tripped right over the edge of the chair and hit the still jumping ground with a hard thump. Still crying out in pain, I was barely able to see the falling jar before catching it.

Just as soon as I hear the pounding voice with the quakes stopping, there's a slamming of steps down the stairs, rushed. Sitting up with a groan as I safely place the jar down, I wipe at my eyes.

"Again?" Ernest hisses out in groggy annoyance. Coming up behind me, he lifts me up from under my arms harshly, pushing be over to the couches. "Stop doing that, you idiot! You could have gotten hurt."

"W-What?" I cried out, slapping his hands away, "That wasn't me! That was Jules."

He looks behind him, "The sugar!? Don't make us get rid of it again-!"

"Then I'll tell on you-!"

Giving me a smack across the head, I yelp. He storms past me and goes back upstairs to help wake everyone else up. Rubbing my head with a pout, I keep staring as he goes upstairs.

Pulling on my sweater, I slam open the front door and jump down the steps. God, it's freezing! He keeps promising to keep it warm in here, what a liar.

Once I'm down on the table we call ground, I allow myself to settle back onto one of the benches. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I keep stamping my socks down on the wood, hugging myself in frenzied rubs. Really, I'm just desperate to warm myself up.

Tugging down my sleeves and flipping on my hood, I look out over from beyond this table of ours. The curtains far beyond at the other side was drawn, despite the sky still being a grey blue, the sun just beginning to make it's peek over the mountains. So, the only source of light here is the lamp that Julien set up, the one standing by his bed.

He usually makes his bed as soon as he wakes up, but the blankets and covers are still moved in a heap, one blanket almost touching the floor. My eyes keep searching until I find the clock. Earlier than normal, at 6:20.

I keep taking in the surroundings, from the "outside world" of  Julien's room, and our ground of this table with the shrunken down decorations and sport pens. It's in these long, quiet suffering moments that I get hit with all these stupid, painful reminders. I should have just stayed inside, probably messed with Kyle and help him get up instead of lurk out here.

Just as I was about to get up and do that, I'm practically pushed right back down on the bench when the door on the outside is slammed open. Great, I note with a pout, arms folding over my chest.

"Good morning!" Julien's voice booms with glee as he pounds his way over. Sneering, I raise up my knees again, covering my ears with my shaking palms. Turning away in anger as he approaches, I can tell he's trying to move slowly given yesterday's situation, but he can only do so much-

Scratch that, he's not trying at all. I have to bite back a scream when he slams the plate onto the table, knocking over the soccer goal. Not only that, but his fingers clasp tight around the end of the table, it damn near makes the bench I'm sitting on jump up.