Living Dolls

9Kyle

I felt absolutely pathetic that I couldn't even sleep at night, when everyone else was doing so. Sure, in the day, I'm always passing out from the weariness, but once I get to bed, I'm too drained to even shut my eyes.

There was an added uneasiness when someone would stand at my door.

It was difficult to make it up. Was my mind still partially in dream mode? I couldn't move. But it could also be Heide, she likes doing stuff like that. I didn't know, I couldn't move to look over some more, I couldn't speak, I couldn't even close my eyes to try ignoring it. I could only breathe faintly, I could only blink.

Sometime after plenty of blinking, it started to fade. With every dry flutter of my eyes, it faded more and more, until I was left in the darkness of my room.

But then light flickered on, illuminating through my window.

Another day.

Waiting until I heard the thumping outside, I tried to move, to sit myself up. That alone was exhausting, but I managed to do it. Flipping the blanket off me, I was hit with even more cold. I turned over to the side of the bed, grimacing while rubbing at my dry eyes.

It didn't take long for Irene to come through, and I eyed her, but then softened with a smiling sigh upon seeing it was just her. No Ernest trying to get reactions out of me, no Heide jumping back and forth.

There was her voice that came in a buzz to my mind, and I hoped I got it right. "Good morning."

She smiles, so I assume I did.

As I was heading out of this house, I was becoming painfully reminded of my promise to ask for more of the yarn, that, and Julien's apparent want to talk to me again. Ernest asked me to stop upsetting the brat, but I really can't help myself.

Afterall, wanting to be nice to him is what got me into this mess, right? I still hear Miruna's words of, "I hope you get along well with Julien." It echoes in my head, every day, for three years, dammit.

God, my head is hurting more...

When I went through the door Irene was holding open, I was already hearing those tedious noises, and my head pounded more and more. Heide screaming for sugar, the withdrawal likely tearing her up, and Julien telling her to calm down.
The second I directed my gaze up to the titanic brat, he stopped buttoning up his shirt. He was just barely sitting himself in his seat, most likely about to get up and continue his morning routine, but upon seeing that he had my attention, even if for a second, he brightened up.

Gross.

Rolling my eyes with my jaw tightening, along with my grip on my push rim, I turn myself around to follow Irene down the patio and to everyone else. I even double check if my seat belt is secured. Julien doesn't reach for me, thank God, but he still talks. Ugh.

"Kyle!" Even grosser. Jumping up fully from his seat, it resonates a shake throughout the table. I try ignoring him, wheeling down the ramp and over to where everyone else sat. "Good morning! Did you sleep well? I couldn't make anything big this morning, but, um..." His tone dropped slightly, upon seeing that I was ignoring him. Still, he continued on, just as I stopped beside Ernest, him handing me a bowl. "I'm picking up Brett this morning, too, and he lives a little farther off, so... And, I, um, have practice after school, so I don't know what to make for... What do you think?"

My hands were still clammy as I was given the bowl of oatmeal. What a cop out. I took a taste. Ah, peaches and cream. What an even bigger cop out.

From the corner of my eye, I could see that he finished buttoning his shirt, and began to smoothing it down nervously. "... Uhm, Kyle?"