Living Dolls

7Ernest

It's generally difficult for me to stay asleep, so I was partly there when I heard the titanic brat begin to wake up. Ugh, please no, please no.

The heavy consideration of getting up and sneaking back into the house was pounding in my mind, but I already heard the concrete steps come over towards this table. Too late, dammit.

Julien was definitely giving me false hope when he gave me a simple glance and a smile, "Good morning, Ernest." Before tapping harshly on the roof of the house. Wait for it. I sighed when his fingers grasped at the top of the hammock I was resting on. "Why're you sleeping outside today?"

I need an alone time breather.

"C'mon, it's time to get up." His hand comes over, and thankfully, doesn't grab onto me instantly. Rather, it pinches at the strings of the hammock. It was purposeful false hope yet again, of course, because a second after I calm down, he pinches me at my sides. Instantly, I bite down on my tongue to avoid screaming out in the painful shock.

My stomach turns, heart dropping when he lifts me up just a bit, only to topple me over to the top of the table. I roll over with a grunt, not bothering to get up once I'm in a still position.

"I said come on!"

Groaning, I move over to lie on my back, wrist going over my eyes.

Julien pauses, deciding on the torment. Satisfied then, his hands clasp on the table as he hovers over me, "Why are you so lazy?" He asks. I can already feel and, horridly, smell the gust of his breath. Wincing, I turn over slightly. It only determines him more as he hovers closer and closer, "Why are you so lazy, Ernest?"

"Stop it!" I cry out, moving my hands over my face, "Ugh, you didn't brush your teeth yet. I told you not to show me your morning breath!"

Dammit, I should not have said that.

Julien does lean back a bit, blinking at me with those stupid Heide eyes (Why do the dumb kids have those eyes?). It takes a second or two of his staring to let a grin morph onto his face. Dammit, dammit, dammit!

His hand clasps right over me, locking me right onto the ground of the table. Even still, I'm trying to sit up and pull myself out from his grip, but his other hand moves over behind me.

"As if you're supposed to tell me what to do." He says under his breath. Stupid ass kid can really hold a grudge. I sneer as he hunches over, looming close above me. Draping over the table, it allows him to open his mouth right in front of me.

"Oh, Gods..." I grimace, trying to turn my head away, but the fingers at the side of my head make it difficult.

"You think..." His grip tightens on me as he snickers, "You're supposed to tell me what to do?" He asks, and I simply close my breath and squeeze my eyes shut as he presses closer and closer. "Hey, dipshit, open your eyes."

I do so, but only in a nervous squint.

As soon as he sees some opening from my eyelids, he opens his mouth wide. I'm really starting to suffocate here with my holding my breath, but I don't want to breathe in when he's like this.

His grip tightens each time I look away or close my eyes, so I just keep painfully squinting into that treacherous cave he calls a mouth. The saliva covering everything from his gums, teeth, and tongue, it's revolting. His breath must be a hundred times worse, especially in the morning and after he's ate - I hate it. I just pray that he won't actually put me in there this month.

"You hate it, don't you?" He asks the obvious question, and the ends of his lips curl into a smile. It's difficult to make out his words, since he's trying to keep his salivating mouth wide open for presentation. "Then I'll bet you'll hate it even more if I put you in here."