The light turns on in my room, and I can hear the creak of the door outside the house.  Great, time to get up again.  I’ll bet it’s even earlier than yesterday.  I climb off my matchbox, discarding the thick handkerchief off to the side and quickly slip into some new clothes before stepping into the plastic hallway, where Kelly, Brian, and Gina are already standing, wiping their eyes.

                “I swear, this is earlier than yesterday…” says Gina, yawning absentmindedly.  “I know, I think it is,” I say, leaning against the door frame.  Another minute passes and then Anna comes out of her room.  “Not ready…” she mumbles, her eyes still mostly closed.  We mill around for a minute.  Kelly places an arm around Gina, who looks a little sad this morning. 

Morning.  I’m assuming it’s morning.  I think the last time we saw the sun was a couple months ago.  Regardless, this is our morning.  Another moment passes and the little paper cup with the side chopped off for someone to stand in is lowered down from a cut hole in the roof above the hallway.  “I guess I’ll go first,” says Scott, stepping in.  The string attached to the cup is raised up and out the hole and Scott is pulled from sight.  The empty cup is then lowered down and we each take a turn stepping in, one at a time.  I go last.  I step in and am raised out.

I look up and the first thing I see are those familiar fingers, long and powerful, gripping the string tightly.  I come out and the cup is spun around, where I come face to gigantic face with Julia.  Her massive mouth widens into a smile, showing off her white teeth.  Her blue eyes seem to glow when I come into full view.  With her other hand, she pushes her long brown hair out of her face so I can get a fuller view of it.  The hand precariously holding the cup shifts toward her face, and I suddenly can feel her hot breath being steamed out her nostrils a little ways above me.  Finally her mouth opens, and a wave of heat rushes out at me as she speaks, her fingers gently reaching forward to wrap around me. 

“Good morning, Jack,” she says.

                I guess this needs a little explanation.  My name is Jack.  I’m seventeen years old, and I’ve been living in the carefully stowed dollhouse of one Julia Mack for the last two years, along with four others: Brian, Anna, Kelly, and Gina.  I’m the youngest of all us five, but I’ve been here the longest, although the others weren’t far behind.  Julia herself is actually only sixteen years old.

                I really am not an important person, or even a particularly interesting one.  I’ve lived in a foster home for as long as I can remember.  My “parents” aren’t really bad people, we just sort of ignore one another.  They sign a permission form here or there for school, they give me new clothes, they give me video games to keep me occupied.  Both are architects, and they spend all their time over blue prints.  Or at least, that was what they were doing last time I saw them.  I honestly have no idea what the world believes about my existence.  In all truthfulness they probably think I’m dead.  Hell, I might as well be for the trippy sort of situation I live in now.

                Anyway, Julia might be a year younger than me, but she’s one damn smart girl.  I have no idea how she got the whole thing to go down so well, but she managed to kidnap five people without a single suspicion being aroused.  And even if one was aroused, nothing’s come of it, because the five of us still live in a dollhouse and for weeks at a time don’t even leave Julia’s bedroom.

                It all revolves around Julia’s portable size alteration device.  To the uninitiated on this particular contraption, it allows her to use the on-board computer to set specifications about the size, then detach a hose-like apparatus, get a lock on the target, and send out waves that actually change the size of whatever it hits.  People are included in that category of “whatever,” obviously.  The details of how it happened exactly are a little fuzzy to me at this point, but I was in the same school as Julia and we were both in detention.  The teacher monitor had walked out for a smoke break, but had told us we could go at 4:30.  I had no particular reason to be at home, so I just sort of stayed and did my homework.  Eventually, Julia just up and started talking to me.  I had never spoken to her.  However, again, not having much of a reason or desire to do much of anything at the current moment, I started talking too.  I don’t remember what it was about.  I do remember it shifting to home life eventually, which is how she must have discovered I wouldn’t be particularly missed. 

At least she had the decency to do that: make sure no one would give a shit if I disappeared. 

A little bit later, she plopped her backpack up on the desk, and I saw a little blinking light from inside as I looked up.  A minute later, I found myself laying flat on the desk’s chair, probably only three or so inches tall; I of course couldn’t comprehend this fact at the time, as I was in far too much shock.  It might have been the fear of falling off the chair or just the sheer spine-chilling weirdness and surrealism of what was happening, but I stayed where I was, still not sure what was going on.  Julia, obviously prepared, swooped over, had me in her warm cupped palm an instant later, and deposited me quickly but gently in her jean pocket, where I stayed for another hour, rocked at regular intervals against the fabric made to feel tough by her thick quad until her nanny drove her home.

                Julia’s parents are pretty loaded, and both, as I learned from Anna after she was dropped in to this living hell, are extremely prominent lawyers, both high in demand and making millions annually.  If not for the altogether decent public school system and the complete lack of prestigious private schools in this area, I’d bet Julia would be up in some high and mighty prep or boarding school, but instead her parents just stuck her in my school. 

Just my luck. 

But anyway, she must not have a good relationship with them or one at all for that matter, because I’ve never seen either of them.  Hell, I’ve never seen the nanny either, I just know she has one.  She must have paid off the nanny or something to keep her out of her room, because no one other than Julia has entered this place for the past two years I’ve been here.   Once again, it’s my great luck that keeps coming back to bite me firmly in the ass.

                So then I found myself in a dollhouse, and I had Julia explaining a particularly twisted set of “rules” to me. 

Obviously, she had thought this through for quite a while. 

This was my new home.  I would still “go to school” (I found out what THAT was a bit later) and grow up right, but just in this room.  If I ever disobeyed I would be punished severely.  She said all this with such a calm I realized escape plans should be held off, at least for a bit.  The bitch was downright insane, and I could tell that very early on.  No doubt, this realization saved me from ending up a flattened, bloody pancake within those first couple of days.

                Not long after, the others showed up.  It might have been a month or so later, each separated by roughly the same length of time, I’m not entirely sure.  First Brian, then Anna, then Kelly, and finally Gina.  Brian’s 26 years old.  He was a new teacher at our school.  It was easy to figure out how that one went down.  Anna is 28, our oldest one.  She had just started at the local law firm Julia’s parents owned.  Another connection.  Kelly is 21.  She was in college to be a nurse.  Finally, Gina is 18, a year older than me.  She went to our school too, although I had never spoken to her until she was plopped into the dollhouse with the rest of us.

                We’ve all become pretty close, but I guess that’s understandable when you’re all in what is pretty much a concentration camp, minus the visible fire and whippings.  Not that we aren’t aware of what awaits us if we step out of line.  There used to be a sixth one of us.  Jim. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Jim.

                We still had Jim with us a few months ago.  He was the oldest one; I think he was 30, and he was done with this shit as soon as he stepped into that dollhouse. 

I mean he was DONE. 

The thing with the rest of us was that we had been here longer, and I suppose had created some sort of mental block to prevent going crazy.  Survival instinct.  Mine was strongest, I had been here longest and knew the rules.  It was just a reality I had learned to deal with for the time being (or at the very least, trained my brain to create an impressive block of convincing doubt). 

Jim didn’t. 

He stepped in and went insane almost immediately, saying he was going to kill Julia and a bunch of other fanciful ideas.  We all tried to quiet him, telling him we just had to keep our heads down for the time being and survive. 

He didn’t listen. 

He tried to get out. 

And, well, long story short, in a public display (probably as a warning to the rest of us), Jim found himself first beat mercilessly with the thumb of Julia’s right hand.  It started off slow, with her knocking him over, but eventually, with him pinned down, she started jabbing pretty hard down on his gut, legs, and arms.  It was scary to watch, he was struggling at first but after a while gave up hope that his arms would be able to actually stop the onslaught of sheer muscular advantage training down on his small form.  Then, with him severely weakened and probably several bones broken or at least twisted, she did a little oxygen deprivation by dunking his body, clenched in her fist, into a filled sink.  By that point he was about spent and probably ready to adopt our quiet and obedient lifestyle, but Julia wasn’t going to let this one slide. 

We all did a little bit of pleading for Jim early on in the beating, but from the look on Julia’s face it quickly became apparent that we were up on the chopping block next if we didn’t shut it, so we did.  I had the vague sense some of our humanities were stripped away from us at that point.  Hell, it had probably been gone for a long time, it’s just that something like this had yet to happen.  Somehow, none of us were surprised by it anyway.

                Jim went into this hysterical fit of apologizing.  At first, it looked like it was working.  Julia stopped dunking him, held him in her hand without clenching it, and asked him to strip down so she could look him over and make sure he didn’t have any permanent damage.  He did so, although he couldn’t reach all the way to his feet to pull his soaked pants off because his back was probably out at that point, so she helped him out, plucking them off and putting them on the table.  Of course, a second later, with two of her fingers she snatched him up by the dick and held him upside down for twenty seconds or so, above her head in the air.  He was screaming bloody murder, and his voice had just given out when she let go, allowing him to plunge what felt like two or so stories down to the sink.  He landed hard and started splashing around weakly, trying to swim away. 

He didn’t have long, though.  Julia had picked up a clear glass cup used for tooth brushing and was already scooping into the water.  He was inside it a second later, and she held it up, smiling, her pinkish hand flesh smooshed against the clear glass of the cup, surrounding Jim’s view.  He came to the surface and looked out of the cup at her, pleading some more, fully exposed in the water, so close his view was probably all her face.  It looked like he had pissed in fear in the water.  Julia’s face curled into a frown, and she pressed her mouth against the cup, blocking off air flow and creating a suction effect so that what she said next was difficult for the rest of us to hear clearly.

                “You’ve made me do this, you little bastard,” said Julia darkly before tipping the cup over her lips.  Water rushed inward, and Jim tried to clamber back out but it was no use.  He slipped over her huge pink lips a second later and disappeared as she closed her mouth, licking her lips and swallowing hard, forcing the hapless Jim into a slimy road down her digestive tract.

                And that’s really all the reason the rest of us need to lie low.  Torture and a painful death, completely at the mercy of this sadistic teen?  None of us wanted to be here, but that was the worse alternative.  We had of course, thought to consider what would happen when Julia was old enough to go to college.  Would she take us with her? 
                Or just get rid of us? 
                We didn’t linger on this topic long. 

Julia’s soft finger flesh closes around me in a wall, gently lifting me out of the cup elevator and into the air.  She holds me for a moment.  She does this each morning, giving each of her pet people a brief moment.  Probably to make us feel more comfortable or something.  I really can’t even begin to fathom how this girl’s mind works.

                She brings me a little closer to her face after adjusting her position to one of kneeling.  It’s not an entirely unpleasant face to look at, so I suppose that’s something.  She’s thin, but with a slightly athletic build, and as I said, she’s got long, smooth brown hair that has a nice sheen by her light, deep blue eyes, and a pretty big mouth containing perfectly straight white teeth and a long red tongue.  Her hands are very large: mammoth things of power to us at about three inches tall (I’m really not quite sure how big we are, but that’s my guess, if not a few millimeters shorter).  If this were another life and I had not been essentially enslaved by this girl for almost an eighth of my life, I’d probably even be attracted to her.  She’s not exactly what you’d call hot or gorgeous, but she has what appears to be a certain charm to her that makes her almost magnetic, and is probably part of what made it so easy for her to catch all of us.  Of course, us five know better than anyone how this sunny spirit of hers is a pretty cover up for a deep-seated madness she’ll probably never even realize in herself.

                “Did you sleep well?” she says sweetly to me, giving me a light squeeze that doesn’t hurt; it feels more like a strong hug from her fingers.  For a second, my legs swing freely inside her hand.  It’s sort of a scary feeling, so her pinky quickly slides into her softly closed fist so I can have something to half-stand on.

                “Yes,” I say quietly.  I don’t particularly enjoy talking much to her.  It’s really not so much out of hatred or even dislike (I learned to block those feelings a long time ago in favor of my personal wellbeing), but more out of an acceptance for the situation I’ve reached.  Just like my life “before,” I just sort of go with the flow, so that must be one of the things that helps me stay ahead here.  It’s never said, but I think because I’ve been here the longest and I tend to cooperate best with her, I’m Julia’s favorite; she tends to take a little longer with me in our immediate morning “chats.”

                “Good,” she says, sighing a bit at the end of the word.  Her other hand moves toward my face, and she gently touches the top of my head with her pointer finger, lightly bopping me.  “We’re going to have to give you a haircut soon, okay?” she says. 

It’s not really a question, she means she’s going to give me a haircut soon.

                “Ok,” I say calmly.  She tilts her head and purses her lips off to the side a bit, as if thinking.  She breathes out slowly, and the warm air hits my face hard again as she adjusts the position of her fingers ever so slightly, curling them in a ripple.

                “You feel thin,” she says finally, doing the light squeeze again.  Then the squeeze goes through each finger from my shoulders to my feet as if she’s feeling me over.  Her hand tilts back and then opens so that I can be at sort of a diagonal leaning position on her palm.  “Lift your shirt up a little,” she says finally, bringing me up a bit so I’m at eye level.  Without a word I do this, revealing my stomach.  She runs her pinky over it, trying to feel for my ribs.  “Have you been eating all your food?” she says.

                “Yes.”

                “Are you sure?”

                “I’m positive,” I answer again, the same monotone way.  She looks disbelievingly at me.

                “Well, okay.  We’re giving you a little extra today, though.  I want you to be healthy,” she says, closing her fingers back around me and realigning me in my upright position.  With this done, she gets up off her kneeling position and stands straight up, rocketing me into the air, but holding firmly enough so that I know I won’t go flying.  The one thing I can say is that in these two years, she’s never dropped one of us on accident.  Ever.  I suppose in her own twisted way she loves each of us. 

Maybe a little too much. 

She does it pretty often too; she’s got some sort of crazy fascination with being able to hold each of our helpless lives in one of her hands.  Since she’s safe, though, being picked up and carried around is as natural (and as often occurring) for us as walking.  I used to be uncomfortable with this, having those huge fingers being able to feel practically every square inch of my body, the claustrophobic sensation of being surrounded by a wall of flesh, but not anymore.  I just sort of ignore it now.

                Now in a standing position, she places me on her small desk, which she has set up as a sort of mess hall, with a little round table and chairs, where the other four are already sitting and eating.  Basically what happens is that she makes up a plop of hot cereal or a little tear of toast with jelly on it, then sets it in the center of the table.  There’s plenty for all of us to just grab it up and chow down.  Lately though, as she noticed, I haven’t really cared as much.  I still eat enough so that I’m not starving or anything, but I am pretty sure I’m losing weight.  I take my seat and grab up a few of the mushy grain chunks. 

Oatmeal this morning.

                We finish breakfast a bit later.  While we eat, Julia tends to leave the room and leave us to our own devices.  The desk is honestly way too far away from anything to leap to for escape.  Jumping off would be a guaranteed suicide.  All we have are the table and chairs, so there’re really no options.  We’ve figured that out.  Brian used to whisper about a way we could get off the table and try to get away but he doesn’t any more.  Now, we just sort of tell each other about our lives before.  We honestly have each other’s bios pretty much ingrained in each other’s minds, but we enjoy hearing the same stories over again. 

What else have we got to do with ourselves, anyway?

                It’s a Saturday: this means a full day of school.  Since Julia has to actually go to real school during the week, on regular days she leaves us in the dollhouse with enough food for breakfast and lunch, then returns in the evening after school to “teach” us.

                This is one of the most central things about our lives here: we go to “school.”  I suppose Julia also has a deep desire to be a teacher one day, because she has taken it upon herself to continue our educations.  On her larger desk in the room, she has set up a series of desks and tables with a mini chalkboard and everything.  Sometimes when I’m not paying attention I almost feel like I’m back in my school, until I lift my head and remember that my teacher is a twisted titan girl large enough to swallow me whole, and worse still would do it if I stepped out of line far enough. 

Somehow, that image of reality tends to kill the illusion of beautiful sanity a bit.

                Julia returns soon, dressed for the day in skinny jeans, a tight purple shirt, and yellow slip-ons, her freshly showered hair tied up in a ponytail.  She walks in, smiling at us, and picks up the school bus from the ground, setting it on the small kitchen desk for us.  She really is serious about the whole school thing.  We clamber on to the bus and take our sets.  Then, slipping her fingers through the glassless windows of the toy bus, she lifts it into the air, her huge palm acting as a roof over part of it, carrying us the roughly twenty foot distance across her spacious room to her larger desk, where the classroom is.  The bus is laid to rest on the desk, and we all hop out before she drives the bus away and deposits it on the ground.

                We all trudge into the classroom, and take our seats at our assigned desks.  Julia pulls her swivel chair over and takes a seat, resting her arms gently on top of themselves at the front of the “classroom” where she can get a bird’s eye view of us all.  Even sitting, we all have to look up a little to see her directly in the face since she’s so close to us.

                “Good morning, class,” she says with a huge grin.  We all mumble good morning.  “Let’s try that again.  GOOD MORNING, CLASS,” she says a little louder and cheerier.  We say it a little louder.  “That’s better.  Now, where did we leave off… ahh, yes, I remember, we were talking about advanced algebra.  Now, let’s see… if we take this problem…” she begins, typing out a problem on her laptop and setting it in front of the class so we can all see the gigantic problem laid out.  “Oh, I’m sorry, we didn’t get the supplies.  Kelly?  Would you get them please?” she says sweetly, nodding her head.  Kelly quickly stands up and goes to a side table where she picks up enough paper and pencil tips for everyone before placing one on each of our desks.  We mumble a few quick thanks at her.

                “Class?  Kelly did something nice.  Let’s thank her a little better.  What do we say?” she says with the slightest air of disapproval, as if we were all elementary school kids.  We repeat the thank you a little louder.  Brian just sort of mumbles it again, though.

                “Brian?  What do we say?” she says, tilting her head over at him.  He looks at his lap. 

Idiot.  What does he think he’s doing?

                “I asked you a question, Brian,” she says, her hand rising from under the desk and moving threateningly toward Brian, her fingers outstretched. 

Julia’s hand comes up and she taps loudly on the desk in front of Brian.  He looks up, suddenly a little bit scared, and says thank you louder to Kelly.  Julia shakes her head.

                “Let’s not start the day off like this, okay?” she says. 

Great.  He’s already on her bad side for today.  No doubt if he does another thing he’ll find himself in detention.  I’ve probably been to detention at least a couple dozen times, and I’m the best student.  It’s not hard to tip Julia over the edge as far as school discipline.

                “Please get to work on the problem, class,” she says, and we all begin furiously writing it out and finding the answer.  She gives us a minute before speaking again.

                “I hope you’re done.  Gina?  What did you get?” she says.  Gina looks up, and calmly tells her x is equal to negative twenty-six.  Julia frowns ever so slightly.

                “No… I don’t think so.  Let’s try again.  Jack, what did you get?” she says, looking at me.  I look at my paper and answer x is equal to eighteen.  She smiles and nods her head.  “Good work, Jack,” she says, giving me a huge thumbs up. 

Good.  With a start like this, there’s an extremely low likelihood I’ll end up in detention.  Like so many other things in the last two years, I’ve blocked stuff off and reduced it to a very simple equation:  do well and get through another day without detention. 

Simple as that.

                The slight worried frown returning, Julia looks back to Gina.  “Gina, I’m not sure you’re getting this concept quite right.  How about you show me how you’re doing it.  I want to see you work,” she says, and her hand is gently laid out, palm up, where Gina can step into it.

                “But wait- just let me try it again!  I know I can get it…” says Gina, the nervousness growing in her voice.  Having not been here as long, she hasn’t quite adjusted to being held, and as she’s told me quietly in one of our late night chats in the dollhouse, she’s terrified of heights.  It’s like having your worst fear combined with the fact that a gigantic evil goddess is holding your life in her hand, in a position fully capable of squeezing the life out of you with a quick snap. 

But Julia’s not going to have any of this.  Her voice raises and the palm-up hand rises for a moment, and she snaps her thumb and middle finger together with a loud crack to get Gina’s attention.  “NOW, Gina.  Don’t make me ask again.”

                Walking slowly, and with the slightest shake developing in her knees that only people of our size would notice, Gina steps forward, holding her pencil and paper toward Julia’s hand and stops right in front.

                “Look, I can show you the-” begins Gina, hoping to get out of stepping in.

                “Get into my hand, Gina.  Now,” says Julia, sounding pretty annoyed at this point.  She taps her pointer finger on the desk hard before moving it a few inches forward and bumping against the knees of Gina.

                “O-o-okay, okay, I’m-I’m doing it,” says Gina, stammering in growing fear of the height to come.  She sits Indian style in Julia’s palm and is raised up to her face, and sets her paper on the pad of skin under Julia’s thumb where the flesh is thicker to write it out.  Julia whispers to Gina quietly for a few minutes, then returns her to the table.  Gina’s face is honestly pretty ashen.  She’s usually not in the air for that long.

                “And Gina?  Detention later.  I want you to listen to me better from now on,” says Julia.  Gina looks even sadder.  I actually feel pretty bad for her, and for the first time this week my emotions are awakened enough that I feel opinionated about something.  It occurs to me to make a sacrifice for Gina and go with her to detention.  The trick is to find the perfect thing that will earn me detention, but keep me very well distanced from suspension.  I’ve only been suspended once. 

It sucked. 

And I mean it sucked. 

It’s really not something any of us even discuss with one another because we’d like to forget it. 

I spend the next couple hours of algebra and history lessons trying to devise something.  Noon rolls around, and we stop the lesson.

                “Okay, class, it’s time for lunch.  Everybody in,” says Gina, pulling the bus up for all of us.  We hop in and take seats.  I take one next to Gina, who is still shaken.  I put my arm around her.

                “It’s okay.  You’re going to be fine,” I say, patting her shoulder.

                “But what if… what if I have to…” she begins fearfully.

                “She won’t make you do that again, trust me.”

                “How do you know?”

                “I know.  Try to relax.  It’s okay.”

                We’re set down on the desk with the kitchen for lunch.  We all take our seats, and a bit later are brought what appears to be a normal sized person’s bite’s worth off of a sandwich, so there’s little bits of bread, cheese, and lettuce sitting in the pile.  We gobble it up, and it actually tastes pretty good, but it’s hindered for Gina and me slightly with the knowledge of what’s to come after school.  This seems like a good a time as any to earn it.

                “Jack?” I hear from off the table.  I turn to see Julia looking at me, luckily not annoyed or angry.  “Come over here.”  I get up from my seat and step to the edge of the table.  We’ve gotten to the point where Julia can just pick me up without any complaint or apprehension from me, so she sort of just does it without thinking about it; luckily again, she hasn’t gotten so comfortable that she doesn’t do it slowly and gently.  She picks me up with a surprising amount of care for the anger that is capable of quickly swelling in her, and closes her fingers gently around my body.  She walks across the room and sits at the classroom desk, her back to the back desk area.  She rests her elbow on the desk, still holding me.  “I want you to eat something extra right now, okay?  Here,” she raises her other hand, which has been gripping a large ball of bread.  “Eat some,” she says.  She flattens the hand holding me into an open palm so I can sit down in the center before she places the ball on her outstretched fingers for me to grab off.

                “I’m okay, I just had something to eat over there,” I lie.  This seems as good an option as any.

                “I know, but I’d really like you to get some extra.  You’re getting too thin.  And I want my little boys to all be nice and healthy.   Don’t you want to be healthy, Jack?” she says, nudging the ball closer to my knees in my sitting position.

“Yes.  But I’m really not… hungry right now,” I say, careful to stay respectful but firm sounding. 

Have to keep it in balance.  She’s silent for a moment, probably a little surprised at my slight defiance.

                “Jack, you can’t be full.  Eat it now,” she says a little more forcefully.  Between two finger nails she clips off a little clump of it and shoves it right in front of my face, her enormous fingertips large enough to cover most of my face, the bread intermingling grossly with tiny clumps of dirt trapped under her fingernails.

Mentally, I tell myself to keep my cool.

                “No.”

                “What did you say?”

                “No,” I repeat.  Probably about there.

                “This is your last chance, Jack.  Eat this bread or you’ll be joining Gina in detention.”

                “No thank you,” I say politely.  She shakes her head in disappointment.

                “Fine.  Detention.  And just so you know, you can just wait here until you decide to eat that bread.  I can wait all day, believe me.” 

By “here” she means in her hand, meaning she’s pretty much just going to hold me until I decide to eat it.  I’m sure she secretly doesn’t mind it that much, she enjoys holding us all so much.  This is a very common punishment, but it really only works on those members of the “class” who are afraid of heights.  I got over that crap a very long time ago, so sitting in Julia’s soft palm is practically the same to me as sitting in a little plastic doll chair like usual.  Hell, it’ll probably be more comfortable to be sitting on a soft fleshy pillow than in that hard chair.

                Lunch finishes, and with the hand not holding me she carries the group-filled bus over to the classroom again and continues the lesson about the American Civil War.  She rests her elbow on the desk, keeping her palm in a perfectly upright position so I can sit.  Gina looks up at me nervously a few times in the class.  She’s probably worried about me, since this punishment would probably end with her fainting in fear, were she in my place.  I wink at her to let her know it’s okay, and she seems to be a little better afterward.

                I don’t touch the bread ball.  After an hour or so passes, Julia begins to absent-mindedly shift her elbow around, teetering from side to side, not enough for me to fall off, but definitely enough to feel.  Eventually she sort of gets bored with her hands, probably getting tired from keeping it standing up for so long, and she grips me into a fist with her other hand, making sure to hold onto the bread ball with the other.  She passes me from one fist to the other while still talking, not really paying attention to me, and continues with the lesson.  Eventually she stops in one hand, then cups the other hand, plops me in, and covers me up with the other hand, forcing me to roll up into a compact ball to make room.  My only source of light and air comes from the opening between her thumb and pointer fingers.  On the bright side, I don’t have to worry about falling.  Obviously, though, it does start to get hot in here quickly, and not just from me.  Her palm begins to moisten ever so slightly, in that way hands do before full on sweating.  Her palm flesh is softer when like this (believe me, I’ve been in this position before and I know), so I take the opportunity for a little siesta.

I wake up from my state of semi-consciousness to find Julia’s hand still closed around me, but the light blocked off by her bulbous lips pressed against the opening.

                “Eaten it yet?” she whispers, blowing in a massive amount of hot air as she speaks.  After doing this, she opens her hands slightly so she can see.  It’s suddenly much cooler.  She shakes her head disapprovingly yet again.

                “I’ll let it slide this time, Jack.  Next time you’re eating it whether you want to or not.”  Her other hand picks up the bread ball and pockets it before coming back for me.  Using only her thumb and pointer finger, she gets me around the midsection and picks me up.  She only ever holds us like this to make a point, because I’m frankly dangling completely at her mercy over the ground.  She raises me to right in front of her face, near her mouth.

                “Understand?” she says, the hot wave hitting me again.

                “Yes.”

                Her fingers raise a bit, and she takes me to right below her nose; I can see right up it into the darkness.  She inhales deeply, then lets it out like steam, her nose hairs tremoring as she does so.

                “You’re sweaty,” she says slowly, poking her tongue out of her mouth in a thinking sort of way.

                “It was hot in there,” I say matter-of-factly.

                Her lip curls downward into a smug smirk and she chuckles, but it’s a kind sort of laugh, as if she thinks I’m funny; she relaxes and places me back in her cupped palm in a laying down position, curling her fingers protectively around me and smirking smartly at me.  I seem to have made it through.  “Not my problem,” she answers.  “I guess you’ve been in there for a couple hours, though.”

                “Yeah,” I say.

                “You need a bath.  Come to think of it, all of you need a bath,” she says looking down at the class in their desks.  The day must be just about over.

                “All right!  Everyone load up for the bus to go home!  Except you two…” she says, looking at me in her cupped palm and down at Gina, who shudders ever so slightly.  She gingerly places me back in the classroom and loads the other three up in the bus, taking them back to the house for a break before dinner.  After lowering them back inside the house and closing the house back up inside her room’s closet, she saunters back to the classroom and rests her chin on the classroom edge.  I’m still standing here, but Gina has remained in her seat, still scared.

                “Gina, get over here please,” she says.  Gina silently stands up and scurries over to stand next to me.  “Thank you for listening this time.”  She studies us for a moment, pursing her lips out in a pucker.  Thinking again.  “I hope you both will remember today and try to do better tomorrow.  I really don’t like having to punish you, but I have to if you’re going to act like this.  Understand?”

                “Yes,” we say in unison.

                “Good.  Now, today for your detention, I’m going to have you doing a little tidying up for me.  You see…” she begins, reaching under the desk.  She then brings up a tall black high heel and deposits it on the desk, laying it on its side so we can see the inside.  “I wore my heels for Sunday mass and I walked through a HUGE mud puddle and, well, I sort of made a mess.  It got inside it, too.  So I’d like you two to make this shoe look spotless again.  Understand?” she says again.  She likes using that word: “understand.”  Gina and I both breathe a mental sigh of relief.  This is much better than we were anticipating.  “UNDERSTAND?”

                “Yes,” we both say together again.  She smiles.

                “Good.  Now, I’ll give you these to make it easier,” she says.  She reaches into her other pocket and takes out a moist towlette package.  Tearing it open, she rips off a couple little pieces small enough for us to pick up and use, placing them at our feet.  “I’ll be back in an hour.  Do a good job, and maybe I won’t have to be angry.”  She leans back, pushing the chair away, and steps briskly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

                “Okay.  I guess it’s better than it could have been,” I shrug.  Gina looks at me worriedly.

                “Are… are you okay?” she says.

                “Yeah.  I’m all good,” I say.

                “But it’s just that… she just… I don’t know, she just gets so rough with you.  She doesn’t do that to anyone else, even when she’s mad, but with you she’s practically tossing you in the air.”

                “She’s careful.  I don’t know, I guess I don’t really complain about it.”

                “Did you?  Before?”

                I consider this.  “Sure.  A lot.  So she kept picking me up more.  I’m practically her trained three inch puppy now,” I say sarcastically, but Gina goes silent, so I can tell this made her nervous.

                “I’m kidding.  But really, you just have to get used to it.  I mean, you’re really okay.  She won’t drop you.  I promise,” I follow up quickly.  Gina shakes her head and picks up a towel piece.

                “But… I don’t WANT to get used to it.  I want to get out of here…”

                “I know.  But there’s nothing we can do right now.  We’ve tried before.  There’s no way.  Anything we try would leave us barely in one piece, and then she’d come in and catch us easy.”

                “I know…” she says.

                “C’mon, let’s get started,” I say.

                “I don’t really want to go in there…” she says apprehensively.

                “Why not?  Too stinky for you?” I say jokingly.

                She looks back at me, and I see a trace of a smile cross her lips.

                “I’ll get it, don’t worry,” I say and bravely step into the shoe, beginning to wipe the great deal of mud coating the inside.  It honestly doesn’t smell, what I smell more is the leathery interior, but you can definitely detect a distinct, light odor only a sweaty foot could give off.  Julia hasn’t worn these in a week, though, so it’s sort of worn off and it’s not so bad.  Gina, meanwhile, gets to work on the spike of the heel, which took a lot of dried mud damage too.

                We get the shoe looking pretty squeaky clean, and true to her word, Julia swings her door open an hour later, taking a seat at the desk chair.  We both back up from the shoe for her to get a good look.  Her eyes widen.  “Wow, you two.  Good job.  Let’s just see if…” she begins, picking the shoe up and inspecting it.  “Whoops.  Missed a little spot in there…” she says squinting, showing us the spot she’s talking about in the shoe.  It’s inside the shoe, near the well-worn toe section.

                “I’ll get it,” I say, stepping forward.

                “No, Jack.  I want Gina to get it.”

                “But I can…” I start.

                “No.  Gina.  Get in here,” says Julia, placing the shoe back on its side.  She’s starting to get miffed again, and Gina can tell, so she steps forward.  I pat her shoulder as she walks by.  She clambers inside and walks to the toe of the shoe.  And I can already see what’s coming next.  With Gina still inside the shoe, Julia quickly snatches it up off the desk and stands up, holding it in the air, still on its side.  She puts her eyes up to the shoe.  I can hear Gina’s muted gasp, even from down here.

                “Keep going, Gina,” says Julia, nodding at her.  She waits another minute.  “Got it all?  Good,” she says before tipping the shoe’s opening straight downward. 

I take a step forward instinctively, although there’s literally nothing I can do to help her.  Gina, shrieking, falls out of the shoe and is in midair (for us) for the equivalent of eight feet or so before landing in the palm of Julia, which quickly closes around her.  She raises her to her face, right in front of her lips, just as she did earlier for me.

                “You’ve got to get over this fear thing, Gina.  When I want to hold you, I’m going to hold you.  I hope you can see that I know what I’m doing.  You’re completely safe.  Okay?” she says, her voice angry at first but becoming gentler as she speaks.  I see Gina’s small head, the only thing poking out from the mighty fingers of Julia, nodding her head very quickly.  “Are you sure?”

                “YES!” screams Gina, clearly not over the fear.

                “I’m not convinced…” says Julia, her voice much calmer but still scary.  She’s in that mode where she’s trying to teach a lesson, and you really can’t predict what she’s going to do.  “When I tell you to get in my hand, what are you going to do?”

                “Get in.”

                “What are you going to do?”

                “Get in your hand.”

                “Louder.”

                “GET IN YOUR HAND!” screams Gina again, and she starts to cry.

                “Ohhh… now, now…” says Julia, her voice drastically changing to that of a concerned parental figure.  It really is terrifying how fast she changes.  “It’s all right.  It’s okay now.  I’m not going to hurt you, Gina.  All I’m trying to say is that you have to listen to me.  See, here…” she says, and her other hand quickly grabs for me after putting down the shoe.  In her gentle fist, I am raised up to the same level as Gina.

                “Jack’s here.  He’ll help you.  Jack, help Gina.  Tell her it’s okay.  Tell her you’re safe,” says Julia, heat hitting my neck.  I try to smile at the sobbing Gina.

                “Gina, it’s okay… Shhh…” I try to whisper.  I reach out my arm across the two layers of curled gigantic fingers separating us.  Wiping her face, Gina reaches out and takes my hand, clenching my fingers tightly as if she was a child getting a shot at the doctor’s office.

                This doesn’t last long, as Julia quickly pulls us apart and puts me back on the desk, turning her attention back to the now quietly crying Gina.  “Shhh… see, it’s all okay now.  It’s okay.”  Her finger begins to stroke the top of Gina’s head.

                After another moment of Julia’s probably unsuccessful attempts to calm Gina, she plucks me back up again and takes us back to the house for our break.  Dinner will be soon, so we don’t have long to get a change of clothes.  We are both deposited without another word into the house.  Gina rushes to her room and falls onto her matchbox bed, and I follow her, letting her cry onto my shoulder.

Dinner goes on without incident.  Tonight it’s a little shredded piece of chicken.  I think I can taste some salt in it, too.  Julia sits in a chair across from us, holding a plate of chicken herself and eating while watching us.  Dinner is the meal we tend to not get to ourselves, so it’s usually in silence.  None of us wants to talk in front of Julia.  We get a brief chance when she puts her plate down finally and leaves the room.

                “I’m not sure we can take this much longer…” says Brian.

                “Brian…” says Anna.  We’ve all heard this before from him.

                “I mean it.  She’s torturing us.  What she did to Gina today…”

                “There’s nothing we can do,” says Anna.

                “Well, I’m starting to think it’s not WORTH it anymore!  When she turns 18 and she’s done with high school…”

                “Brian, stop.”

                “No!  We have to think about this logically.  I mean, I like my life.  But it’s not WORTH it to sit here waiting.  We step an inch out of line and she practically beats us up.  You remember Jim.  If we ever do anything like that, that’s going to be us.  And when she’s done with us?  Who’s to say she won’t have a final hurrah and just torture us for hours and hours to end it all!”

                “Brian, you gotta stop this…” I say.

                “Shut up, Jack.  You’re just a kid.  Damn it, you’re just a kid.  You can’t know about this stuff.”

                “Yes I do.  I’ve been here for two years.”

                “No, you don’t.  Now, I don’t wanna be the one that says this, but we gotta start thinking… I mean, I don’t want to say it, but c’mon… maybe, you know, if there’s an opportunity, we should just…”

                “Brian, you’re done,” says Anna with a great deal of finality.

                “I’m just saying…”

                “Not now…” says Anna.

                “Look, all I’m saying is, I’m not going to sit around WAITING for Julia to use me as a piece of chewing gum,” he ends.  We all have to quiet down because Julia is back with a salad bowl full of warm water and a bar of soap. 

Bath time.

                “All right everybody, you know how it goes.  C’mon.  Off,” she says, setting the bowl and bar down on the kitchen desk.  We all obediently begin stripping down to our skivvies.  Julia allows us to wear underwear to retain a little dignity amongst one another.  After we’ve stripped (and find ourselves in the cold open air) Julia lowers her hand.  We all huddle together on it and she slowly lifts us up to the of the bowl and lowers us slowly like an elevator into the warm water until we are able to tread water ourselves.  She then begins chipping soap bar pieces off small enough for us to use and sprinkling them into the water.  We take about fifteen minutes of treading and washing.  It honestly gets sort of tiring because we have to stay afloat while getting everything clean, leaving the surface of the water with a lot of bubble residue.  Then, individually, Julia plucks us out gently between four of her fingers from the legs and lays us out on a hand towel to dry ourselves.  She has swept up our dirty clothes and brought us newly cleaned ones.  I pick up a shirt, underwear, and jeans and put them on after realizing they are meant for me, as well as a matching set of cleaned pajamas.

                “You all can change when you get back in your rooms, okay?  Now let’s get some sleep.”  From the table, she carries each of the others back to a kneeling position, chats with them, then lowers them back into the house from the cup; the reverse process of the morning.  I’m last, of course.

                I almost find myself grateful for her to grip me up into the air in her warm fingers.  It was starting to get pretty icy.  I’m not the smallest of us, but I’m nearly the lightest.  I really have lost a lot of weight lately, so it’s become tougher for me to retain heat.  Her palm and finger flesh is smooshed out against my skin, and again I’m dangerously close to be comforted by the heat and near safety I have come to feel. 

Scary.

                She slowly goes to a kneeling position.  She does the light squeeze thing as usual.  “Jack… you’re… you’re cold…  are you feeling okay?” she says.  I nod, and without my consent my teeth chatter.  She purses her lips and makes a tsk noise at me.  “I don’t think so.  Here, let’s warm you up a little more before bed…” she says, gripping me tighter.  I am raised to her mouth and she opens it, exhaling very slowly.  The heat from her breath feels great, and I get a little chill down my spine.  Goose bumps.  I’m warming up a little.  She continues squeezing me, breathing out clouds of hot breath.  The smell of partially liquefied chicken and salt in her throat isn’t terribly appetizing, but it’s worth it for the warmth.

                “You don’t feel much warmer.  I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re doing it like this tomorrow.  Okay, how about this; I’ll just hold you in the water and you can do it really quickly so you can get warmer a little sooner,” she says.  She cups her hand and lets me fall to the center, balling up, and she closes her fingers around me in a very light fist, leaving enough room for me to sit.  Then, through the opening of her thumb and forefinger, she begins to blow more warm air in, venting it in like a heater.  I finally begin to regulate my temperature.  After a couple minutes of this, she opens her hand flat so I can stand up.

                “Better?” she says smiling, almost with a small chuckle; she ends the word with a final puff of hot air on me which almost makes me lose my balance.  With her other hand, she takes me up in one final light squeeze and places me back in the cup held by her other hand at that point.  “Good night, little one.  I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says smiling and lowering me in.  I walk down the hall to my room and change into the clean pajamas, leaving the clean clothes for morning.  I lay back in the matchbox, chilled and exhausted, still having the familiar feeling of Julia’s hand pressing every square inch of my nearly naked body, radiating heat. 

I go to sleep with this image swimming uncomfortably in my dreams.

The morning goes the same as usual.  Breakfast is a corner of wheat toast with margarine or something on it.  A thimble filled with water is also place near the table for us to get a few handfuls to drink.  With this done, we are all taken over to the classroom.  Julia looks especially excited today.

                “Okay, class.  Today, before we start regular lessons, we’re going to talk a little about the school play we’re going to be doing!” she says, her smile very wide.  She rubs her hands together as she says it, gleeful.  I’m not quite sure what to make of this yet.

                “It’s an original musical I’ve written called Heartfelt.  I’m still working on a couple of the songs, but while I finish it, we’re going to have auditions later this week!  So, I’ll need you all to look over this music…” she says, placing the computer screen in front of us, where we can see several lines from another song she decided she could write, since she apparently has decided she’s a composer too. 

                Great.  I’ll bet we’re going to have to compliment the songs until we’re blue in the face to keep our heads above water.

                “Copy it down, and try your best to learn it.  Now, let’s get back to lessons…”

                Suddenly, however, I hear a soft moaning sound.  I turn to see Anna bending over in her chair, retching, before puking right onto the desk.  Brian gets up quickly to help her sit upright in her chair again.

                “What happened?” says Julia, leaning far in so she can see.  “Did you throw up, Anna?”

                Anna nods readily, trying to wipe her face off.

                “Do you need me to take you to the bathroom?”

                Anna nods again and gets out of her seat slowly, walking to the edge of the desk, where Julia picks her up and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her.  At that second, Brian stands up, staring straight ahead, focusing.  I stare at him strangely for a minute before realizing what he’s looking at. 

                The computer.  Julia left it on the desk in her hurry to get Anna to the bathroom.

                Brian is already dashing forward to the computer, clambering up onto the keyboard, and yanking the little mouse nub around to bring up the e-mail program in Julia’s computer.

                “Hurry, Brian, more to the left…” calls Kelly, climbing up on the keyboard too and going for the left side of the keyboard to operate the letters.  With a little more tugging, Brian has the arrow over an icon.  I scamper over too and slam my elbow down twice in quick succession on the selection key, opening the program up while Gina runs up, taking the right side of the letter keys.

                “Argh!” grunts Brian, his shoulders already getting a bit tired from the awkward position he has to tug from.  He navigates the arrow to the new message tab and I clicks.  I feel cold sweat streaming down my back already.  None of us have had time to really think about what we’re doing.  But now that I have short second-long intervals before I have to click again to think, I realize what we’re doing.  There’s no going back.  One of our most explicit rules is to never, ever lay a hand or foot on the computer.  If this doesn’t send off in time, we won’t have enough warning time before Julia comes back in.  And despite my better judgment, my mind is already streaming with images of what’s going to go down if Julia were to walk in on all of us at the same time. 

                The things she’d do to us.  The fact that pretty much any part of her body could kill us slowly and painfully in some way.      Our bones crunched like grass twigs in her fingers.  Our bodies mushed into a bloody pulp by her teeth, digested by her stomach acid. 

                And that’s just what we’ve seen her do. 

                Only one other of us had ever attempted an escape, so only once had we been exposed to the extreme power and cruelty of the girl.  I shuddered to imagine what other creative things she could come up with.  Whatever it would be, it would surely be historic.

                Then, my mind strangely goes to Anna.  It’s not that I’m not worried about her, but in the heat of the moment where we may or may not be digging our own graves it seems like I’d be thinking more about the situation at hand, but I’m not.  It was something strange about Anna when she upchucked.  I can’t place it…

                “JACK!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?  CLICK IT AGAIN!” yells Brian, waking me from my trance.  I shake my head around and slam the key again to replace the arrow on the email.  Already it’s partially in progress.  It’s addressed to Brian’s sister, beth12@cardiofitness.com.  We’ve had a while to talk, so I know about this a bit.  Brian’s sister Beth is his only sibling, and they were apparently very close, especially since their parents died when they were young teens.  He has other friends, but she’s one of his best, and she apparently checks her email often since she has it on her phone, since she doesn’t have much time on the computer working as a trainer at a local gym.  At least, that’s how it was when he last saw her over a year and a half ago.

                It doesn’t matter.  Already part of the message is tapped out: “itsbrianimalivetrapped.”

                “Did she do that on purpose?” I call out to Brian, who, for a moment, as a break as the letters are being typed out.  He quickly stamps on an “n” as the address is typed out.

                “No.  No, that was real.”

                “Was she just sick?  What happened?” I ask.

                Brian looks at me kind of funny.  “You might say that…” he says before hitting another letter.  “Get your ass up here.  We won’t be able to even think about that if Julia walks through that door in a second.  Hurry!”

                I step forward, helping them to hit the letters as Brian calls out the next letter, being the only one who actually knows the precise address of this house. 

                I might say what?  What’s going on?

                And then it hits me.  Soft sounds I’ve heard over the last few months in the tiny hallway of the dollhouse.  It’s not something in the wall, or just two of the others comforting each other.  It was Brian and Anna.  Together.  Anna’s not sick. 

                She’s pregnant.

                I don’t have long to think about this.  The full message is typed out.  I run back to my post as Brian pushes against the mouse tab until it’s on send.

                “CLICK IT NOW!” yells Brian and I lunge down on the key with full force.  The message begins to send.  C’mon, c’mon.  My heart beat rises to a crazy level.  It almost hurts waiting. 

                Watching the hourglass symbol. 

                Change. 

                Change. 

                Change. 

                I haven’t wanted something this much in a very long time.  Come to think of it, I stopped wanting “things” two years ago.  But now it’s awakened.  If it just goes through, we might have a chance of escaping this surreal dream we’re all stuck in.

                “It’s not WORKING!” calls Kelly, pressing a few keys in vain.  She’s right.  Nothing happens for a moment, and then a window pops up.

                “Microsoft Outlook has stopped working.  Would you like to close the program now?”

                “FUCK YOU!” screams Brian at the screen.  It all fades from color, signifying the failure of the program.

                “We have to back up now.  Close the program.  If we don’t…” starts Gina.

                “NO!  IT’S GOING TO GO THROUGH.  GOD DAMN IT, SEND!  SEND!” roars Brian, rushing forward and pressing his face against the screen, pounding his fists on it.  With no help from Brian anymore, the remaining three of us quickly set about closing the program.  Hope of immediate escape is gone.  At this instant, our only thought is to cut our losses and cover the tracks of the failed attempt.  I don’t even have time to be distraught that the email didn’t go through, we’re moving too quickly.

                With some quick group effort, the three of us manage to close the email program and bring the music studio program back up with the audition music.  Then, the three of us dash off the keyboard back to the classroom, but I turn to see Brian pounding his ineffectual fists against the screen.  I can hear him crying.

                “Brian!  It’s too late!  We’ll try again next time it’s up, but you’ve got to come NOW!” I yell back at him.  And then I hear it.  Footsteps, slamming.  Probably running down the hallway.  Julia’s coming back.  Not really knowing what I’m doing, I dash back up onto the keyboard and grab Brian around the waist, dragging him backward.

                “Get the fuck off me, Jack.  It’s not worth it anymore.”

                “Yes it is.”

                “No it’s not.  What worth is it living like this?  Look at us.  WE’RE FUCKING HAMSTERS, JACK.  Hamsters.  A fucking hamster, damn it…” says Brian, his broken sobs sort of changing into a pathetic chuckle.  I punch him in the face to get his attention, not hard, but hard enough.  He stops laughing and stares at me strangely, as if I was an alien, while rubbing thoughtfully at the spot where I punched him.

                “Stop it.  You have to come.”

                “Why?”

                “Because you’re going to be a father, you idiot.”

                He looks at me again, rage in his eyes, and stops struggling.  He has nothing to say.

                It’s at that moment, as Brian and I continue standing on the keyboard, that the door swings open again and Julia strides in, cupping Anna in her left hand.

“We’re back!  Anna just got an upset stomach from breakfast, is all.  Have you all been…” she starts before her eyes fall to the two of us on her computer, and suddenly her face twists into a concerned frown. 

                “What are you two doing?” she says, moving quickly back to us.  She fists her hand up, holding Anna so she can deposit her back in a standing position before swooping in for the both of us.  Normally, when picking us up like this, she does it slowly and gently, wrapping each individual finger around us from our shins to our chest before picking us up to make sure she’s not putting too much pressure on us, but her palm hits me like a freight train, fingers snaking around me and hitting my back like a padded whip claw. 

                She’s pissed, all right. 

                Brian is scooped up too and we both find ourselves inches from her face a moment later, her mouth curved into a slight snarl, her nostrils flared, eyes squinting at us. 

                Blazing fire in those blue irises.

                “What were you doing up here?” she whispers angrily, almost in a hiss.

                “Uh…” says Brian, too terrified to answer.

                “TELL ME.  WHAT WERE YOU DOING?” she booms, the wind hitting my face and forcing my eyes to water in response.  “DO YOU NOT REMEMBER MY RULES?”

                “Yes, we do.  We’re sorry,” I offer quietly, not wanting to be too aggressive.  Even with my slightly improved standing above the others in terms of favoritism, I know that at this moment, in Julia’s blind rage, she’s liable to do just about anything. 

                In short, I’ve got bullshit to use as an excuse right now.

                “Then WHY were you on my computer?  I’ve told you to never touch it,” she says, her voice going down in volume but actually rising in speed and intensity.  Her temper is starting to boil over.

                “We just…” starts Brian timidly, trying to chip in something to the cause.  Julia quickly turns her head to look at Brian, her long brown hair swinging around, snapping me across the face.  I, still clenched in Julia’s left fist, remain at about the level of her chin, but Brian (in her other hand) is raised up higher into the air, right in front of Julia’s nose so she can still look down at him.  Her lips purse outward pretty far, her upper lip very stiff.

                “You just… what?” she says, slowly and almost mockingly, daring him to say something smart.  But Brian’s run out of words to say.  So have I.  I honestly wish I could say something to help, but I’m pretty sure she’s so focused on the life in her other hand, she wouldn’t even hear me, let alone listen and heed my suggestion to go easy on him.

                Then, I see it: Julia’s pupils dilating.  “ANSWER ME!” she snarls.  With that, her pointer finger and thumb slide down the body of Brian, gripping him at his ankles.  She releases the rest of her fingers.  An instant later, Brian is dangling upside down, held up by his ankles between two of her fingers, the rest of which she calmly splays out in the air.  And he can’t even make a sound.  I can see the terror rising in his face.  He’s practically in a state of shock.

                “Answer me,” she whispers, her voice descending into a strange place of near indifference.  It’s now so calm, it’s clear she doesn’t give a crap that if she were to release two of her fingers apart just a few centimeters, a human life would be ended.  Finally, Brian speaks up.

                “ALL RIGHT!  ALL RIGHT, OKAY.  JUST… JUST… DON’T DO IT LIKE THIS!”  I’m assuming he means being held by his ankles.  She nods.

                “Okay.”  She slowly curls her other fingers around Brian’s body, still leaving him upside down but now having a firmer grip on his body in her hand.  His head pokes out from the bottom of her hand, below her pinky.  Then, I see her fingers contract.  Hard.  Brian grunts in pain.  She does it again.  And a third time, her fingers pumping in ever so slightly, rippling down his body, as if she was squeezing a bean bag.  To Brian, though it’s like a wall of muscle just compressing onto your ribs from every angle.  She ripples her fingers outward extravagantly.  She’s showboating now, trying to make an example of Brian.  After each ripple, the finger squeezes more tightly around his body, bending her fingers inward.  To end it, she squeezes all her fingers together around him, bending them inward, and holds it for a moment.  Brian’s face begins to turn red; she must be making it hard for him to breathe.  After a few seconds, she releases the grip and Brian breathes.

                I can’t quite tell, especially since I’m not in Brian’s extremely painful position right now, but I think I can deduce that she’s not breaking his bones.  That would require an even harder pump, probably a more focused one too with more time and more applied pressure.  But he’s going to be covered head to toe in bruises, at the very least.  Brian’s crying again, his face still red from earlier; this time though it’s a completely different reason.  But there’s no sympathy for him like there was for Gina the day before.  Julia’s face is completely stoic as she wracks the guy’s entire body with pain with simple pulses from her fingers and palm.  It’s like watching an experienced musician, the way this girl is able to dole out pain and suffering with simple movements in her fingers.

                I guess that makes us her instruments.

                “Shhh, Brian.  Be quiet and tell me what you were doing,” she says finally.  He begins to pant loudly, working through the sobs.

                “This is your last chance, Brian.  Talk now.”

                “Okay, okay.  We were just… just… trying to get a better look at the music.  We wanted to make sure we got it right.”

                Her eyebrows raise suspiciously at him.  “Why can’t you see it from your desk?  The screen is big enough for you to see it from there.”

                “I don’t know much about music,” he lies.  “I wanted to make sure I was writing the notes down right.  I want to do well on it,” he says, trying to butter her up a bit at this point to ensure he makes it out of her hand with all his organs still inside his body.  She squints some more.  I’m not sure she’s buying it.

                “You should have waited for me to get back with Anna.  You know the rules.  And if you don’t follow those rules, I have to punish you.  Just like I did to James.  And so next time this happens, Brian…” she continues, her voice suddenly dropping to a slow, deliberate whisper, her hand holding him moving down, until Brian’s face is close enough to her lips for him to touch them.  Then, her lips curl upward into the first smile I’ve seen out of her on this rant.  She shows her teeth, and emits her final phrase out through an opening in them. 

                “I’m going to swallow you for lunch, Brian,” she whispers, her words muffled as she sticks her long red tongue out and licks her lips slowly, caressing the plushness with her tongue several times before retracting into her mouth, a slight giggle given on the horrible word “swallow.” 

“I’m going to put you…” she says calmly, and suddenly her mouth begins to open wide.  A long strand of spit stays connected between her upper and bottom lip.  “…inside my mouth…” she continues, and inside her mouth her tongue rises up, like a snake.  Even from a little lower down, I can see most of what’s going on.

“And then you’re going to go down my throat…” she continues, her whisper going lower, her voice changing into a trance like state, a fresh gloss of saliva spread over her pink lips from her tongue. 

We can all hear it.  The obsession in her voice.  She wants to do it.  She wants to shove his body inside her mouth and swallow him whole.  The pleasure she’s getting out of the thought is terrifying to all of us, including those not currently clenched in one of Julia’s powerful hands.  Brian starts to shiver, and after a moment I realize I do too.

                “…and…”

                Brian’s head starts to heave, meaning he’s probably hyperventilating.

                “Down into my stomach,” she finishes, pursing her lips in dramatic effect on the last word.  Brian stops shivering, and I’m pretty sure I know why.  Julia tilts her head and smiles, then finally moves her hand back down to my level at her chin, moves it to the side and opens it so Brian can get some room.  He splays out in her palm, panting.  His pants are soaked from pissing himself.

                “Aww, did you wet your little pants, Brian?” says Julia, her voice suddenly reverting to the preschool teacher cooing we’re accustomed to.  Despite the fear still reverberating through my mind, it’s comforting to see her pulling out of this mode of focus and fury.  “I’m sorry.  Did I SCARE you, Brian?” she says in the same voice.  “It’s okay.  I’ll clean you up,” she says.  She gently places me back on the classroom desk, then uses that hand to snap the laptop closed and pick it up, tucking it under her arm.

              “I’ll be back soon after I get Brian some new pants,” says Julia, giggling a little at the end of the sentence.  Still keeping him in an open hand, she walks out of the room, laptop in tow.

For the oddest second I almost feel envy that Brian gets to see a different part of the house as he is carried out in the wrathful hand of our teenage tormentor. 

                That’s how much I want out of this room.

                I stumble back over to the others, still reeling from the situation that was very nearly had.

                “Are you okay?” says Kelly, helping me into a seat.  I nod.

                “I’m fine.  Is she…” I say, indicating over at Anna.  Gina is sitting by her, rubbing her shoulders to calm her.  She didn’t take Brian’s little scene up there too well.  I’m sure it’s not a pleasant thing to watch helplessly as your boyfriend and soon to be baby daddy is almost eaten alive by a crazed 150 foot tall teenaged girl.  Anna’s eyes are red, but she’s not crying.  It looks like SHE actually did go into shock.  Kelly and I return to her.

                “Anna?” whispers Kelly, touching her chin.  “It’s okay.  It’s fine.  She just took Brian to get cleaned up.  It’s okay,” she says.  Anna shakes her head no a few times, her lip quivering, but doesn’t say anything.

                “She… she almost…”

                “No she didn’t!” says Kelly, not wanting her to get the words out for fear she’ll have a breakdown.  It’s a terrible thing to have to think about, and we need to get it out of Anna’s head if she’s going to stay strong.  She has to at this point, with another life inside of her.

                “She almost…” she says, swallowing hard, the next word barely coming out because of the dryness in her throat.  “…ate him…”

                “That’s not true.  She was just trying to teach him a lesson.  You saw.  She wasn’t going to…” frantically continues Kelly, trying to cut her off.

                “Yes she did!” says Anna suddenly.  “She had him up there.  You… you… you saw her… she licked her lips… she… she showed her teeth.  She was going to put him… inside.  Like he was a little piece of meat.  Oh my God, she was GOING to do it!  She was going to, don’t you see?  We’re all… we’re all just pieces of food to her,” she says hysterically, her voice cracking frantically, finally doubling over and descending into sobs.  Kelly kneels beside her, whispering into her ear along with Gina. 

                I feel more helpless at this second than five minutes ago when Julia was ready to squeeze the life from my pathetic body between her thumb and palm.  I really don’t know what I can do.  I wish I could help, but I honestly cannot even fathom what’s just happened.  I sit down, stressed.  And I finally start to realize what Brian was talking about. 

                We can’t go on like this.  Something has to happen soon.

                The silence, muddled only by the quiet sobs of Anna and the comforting whispers of Gina and Kelly, is finally broken when the door slams back open and Julia walks back in, her fist clenched in its normal, more gentle way around Brian.  She sits at the table, and her eye catches me; almost immediately her fingers are twisting around my desk, yanking it out of the way so that her fingers can move with renewed zeal at my defenseless person.  Her fingers snake underneath my desk, lifting it up, her palm enveloping around me still in my chair, her thumb tapping the desk to the ground with a simple motion.  I’m up in the air again in no time, but I can definitely feel a difference in the way she’s holding me.  It’s not the tense, rougher hold of a matter of minutes ago.  It’s back to its softer grip, where I am free to wiggle around while she holds me in a comfortable position.  I breathe a small sigh of relief. 

                At this particular moment, I’m reasonably confident Julia’s not going to swallow me.

                It’s something to be thankful for, right now at least.

                She takes the both of us back to eye level and actually opens her palm but leaves her fingers in an upright position so we can lean against them like a chair.  Of course, it’s also to make sure we look her in the face at all times.

                “Okay, now that we’re all…” she starts, clearing her throat and breaking eye contact for just a second.  “…calmed down, let’s talk for a second.”

                There is a slight movement forward as she leans back in her swivel chair and crosses her bare leg before adjusting her grip on us.

                “I am VERY…” she says, doing the light squeeze on us.  “VERY.  Disappointed in the two of you.  I’ve come to expect better from all of you, and here you are, just going against everything I’ve tried to teach you.  I almost feel like…” she says, rolling her head back in a relaxed way, sighing deeply and letting the air out.  “I’ve failed.  Now, do you two feel that way?  Do you feel like this happened because I haven’t been doing a good job of taking care of you?”

                Both of us nod our heads no in quick succession, following it up with surprised and confused no’s, as if she’s crazy to think such a thing.

                “That’s nice of you to say so, but I really think I have.  I really think I’ve failed.  And I don’t want to fail.  So, to make sure you learn your lesson, I’m enforcing a strict policy now.  The NEXT time this happens, I will be…” she says, clicking her tongue in her mouth absentmindedly, as if she was talking about the most mundane thing.  “… forced to take more drastic action.  And I don’t think either of you WANT that, do you?” she says, raising her eyebrows up.  We both shake no continuously once again, saying no.  She smiles sweetly at us, emitting a low chuckle of adoration.

                “I didn’t think so.  And I don’t want to have to do it, either.  So, let’s all just take a deep breath…” she says, and does it.  We do it too, because we know if she doesn’t feel our chests rising in her palm, she’s going to object.  “AND let it out.  Good.  Okay.  Now, just for today, since we’ve already gone through a lot, I’m going to leave it at a detention.  Be grateful it’s just that,” she says sternly, as if reprimanding students.  I know what she wants now, but the words feel like poison in my throat.

                “Thank you,” we both say nicely, putting up big fake grins.  She smiles back.

                “You’re welcome. Now, let’s all get back to the day’s lesson…” she says, setting us back in the classroom. 

And damn it, if all of us aren’t forced to sit down in our desks and do math problems as if we DIDN’T just have our gigantic captor threatening to swallow us like shrimp if we took another step in the wrong direction…

We miraculously make it through the rest of the day without another outburst.   All of us have an intense swirl of things to think about:

                The very near escape attempt we failed to send off because of technology’s constant failure. 

                The fact that Brian nearly found himself lodged between two of Julia’s molars. 

                The fact that in around five or six months (if we all made it that far) that Anna was going to deliver a little three quarter-inch long baby into the world. 

                And we all had to look up at Julia’s insane, smiling face and repeat phrases in Spanish back to her with an equally content face on each of us.  It was near torture.  We all just needed to take a rest and talk, but of course we knew that wouldn’t happen until much later tonight.  Anna would probably need some more comforting, so at least Kelly and Gina could give her that after school before dinner, but Brian and I would be busy on whatever project Julia came up with for us.  I honestly was scared to know what it was.  We had gotten off easy last time just having to wipe the mud off of a shoe.  It could be anything this time.

                But at the very least, I could be confident that this whole incident had NOT landed us in suspension.  That truly was something to thank our stars for.  And, even better, it had NOT landed us in the pit of Julia’s stomach.  More stars to thank.

                Julia, after dropping the bus back off at the dollhouse, came back to Brian and I in the classroom.  She sat in the chair, raising a very tan leg up and crossing it over her other knee before brushing the hair out of her face and back over her headband.  She held on to the back of her head to ruffle her hair pensively, and for a moment just looked at us, swinging her navy blue flat-clad foot around just below the desk, stretching her arch around, where it only became visible when swinging up.

                For a moment my eyes are drawn to that foot swinging up and down.  It occurs to me that I have so rarely been on the floor, I have therefore never really been in close proximity to Julia’s feet.  It also occurs to me the terrifying power that both of them carry.  It definitely outdoes anything her hands might be able to do to us, and that in of itself is scary.  A step.  A single step, with us just being under her heel at the wrong time, and it’s over.  No chance of survival.

                And then an even sadder thing occurs to me: I’d rather die under her feet than anywhere else, because I’m pretty sure it would be the quickest and least painful.  It’s awful that I have to even consider such things.  It’s not really something you would need to consider in any other situation of life: which body part you want to be killed by when the time comes.

                My mind flashes back to the present.  Julia twiddles her own ankles, still thinking, and finally speaks up.  “Okay, to make sure today’s detention sticks, I’ve got two things in mind for you.  I’ll have to leave for a while, but for now, you can tidy up the classroom.  Sharpen the pencils, clean the board, straighten the desks.  Can we do that?” she says, looking sternly at us.  We nod silently.  “Good.  Okay, do a good job, I’ll be back in half an hour or so,” she says, uncrossing her leg and leaving the room.  We get to work.

                At first it’s quiet, just straightening the desks for a large portion of the time.

                “Thanks, man.”  I finally hear.  Surprised, I turn to face Brian.

                “What?”

                “I said thanks, okay?”

                “For what?”

                “For trying to get me off of there.”

                I almost want to laugh.  “Well, it didn’t WORK, did it?  She still found us on there.”

                “Yeah, I know, but it’s just… I’m not sure that I was going to, well, I mean, I…”

                “What?”

                “I honestly don’t think I’d be here if you weren’t up there too.”

                “Why?  What are you talking about,” I say.  He’s not making much sense at this point.

                “Well, I’ll be frank.  I don’t think she likes me that much.  Hell, I’m probably her “least favorite” if you want to call it that.  And, well, I mean, I think she WOULD have done it.  You know…” he says, gesturing.  He doesn’t want to say “eaten,” it’s just a little too unthinkable to mention.  I don’t blame him for it.

                “I get it.  But why did it help to have me there.”

                He looks over at me, almost in a ridiculing way.  “Are you really that dumb?” he says finally.

                “What?” I say.

                “Well, I mean, can’t you see?  It’s you.  She’s got a… a…” he swallows oddly, as if the words don’t quite make sense.  “… thing for you.”

                I’m speechless for a second.  “What?!” I get out finally, my throat dry.  He shrugs.

                “It’s true.  I can see it when she holds you, all the time.  She likes you.  And I’m betting that if she… um, you know, to me, well, then she would have had to do it to you too, you know, since we both did the same thing, and I just don’t think she wanted to do that…”

                I can understand now, but I’m not sure I believe him yet.  The thought is terrifying to me.

                “How?” I say, not knowing how to answer.  He shrugs again.

                “Can’t explain this shit, man.  It just happens.  You got a gigantic psycho bitch chick wanting a little somethin’ somethin’ from you.  Just your luck,” he says.  It’s odd to hear him talk like this.  He seems to have gone into a strange, relatively happy-go-lucky mode.  It probably has something to do with the fact that his life was almost ended earlier today.  Anything afterward is just more time.

                “You’re freaking me out a little bit…” I say.

                “I’m sorry, man.  Look, I’m just trying to keep my head above water.  I just don’t even know what I’m going to do…”

                “About Anna?”

                “Yeah.”

                “She’s not going to be able to hide it much longer.”

                “I know.”

                “She’ll see her stomach when we take baths.  Hell, she’ll feel the bump when she picks her up.”

                “I know that too.”

                “Well, then, it seems like there’s only one thing to do,” I say.  He looks up at me, almost irritated.  He knows what I’m about to say already.  I don’t want to say it either, but I’ve come to a conclusion.

                “You’ve got to tell Julia about it.”

                “Are you out of your mind?”

                “No.  Just listen to me.  She’ll find the bump, and what do you think she’ll do?  I don’t want to know.  She’ll say we were keeping things from her.  If we just come out and tell her though we might be able to land somewhere in the middle.  She won’t be happy but we might as well get it over with when we’ve got a chance of making it out in one piece!” I say.  He considers this for a moment.

                “What about if she ever gets…” I start, realizing how bad the next part will sound.  “…mad at Anna, and she just grabs her up… I mean, the baby won’t make it.  She’s going to be very fragile soon.  She probably won’t be able to pick her up like that anymore.  You’ve got to be thinking about both of them.  You’ve got to be thinking about ALL of us, Brian, because in Julia’s mind, we’re all in this together.  If one of us goes, ALL of us go down too,” I finish, giving him a second to take it in.  He breathes deeply.

                “I just don’t know if we can…”

                “Then what are we GOING to do?” I say.

                “We’re going to get out!” he answers.  I roll my eyes.  I really don’t think I can hear more of this right now.  He’s become like the crazy old pirate in the prison with dozens of tally marks lining the walls, screaming he’ll get out some day.  He just doesn’t get it.

                “I just don’t think we’ll get another chance!” I say.  “After today, she’s not going to leave the computer up like that again!  She’s WAY too careful, she’s had her defenses up for TWO FUCKING YEARS and never gotten caught.  You think she’ll not tighten up now?  Today was a fluke, none of us have ever been really sick like that before, she didn’t know what to do and just forgot.  She’s READY now.  What are we supposed to do?” I ask him, moving one of the final desks into place.  He looks like he’s about to speak, but the door handle twists.

                “Later…” he quickly whispers before pushing his last desk into place as well.  Julia strides back over to us and sits back down in the chair and leans forward this time to examine our work.  Instantly, the air becomes rank and putrid.  I realize Julia is wearing exercise clothes and is dripping in sweat from a run.  I try not to show it in my face, but at this size, such smells are even more apparent, and it’s frankly overpowering my nostrils already from this distance.

                “Good job, boys, it looks like you did the first part well.  Now… here’s the second part,” she says grinning ear to ear.  She reaches below the desk for a minute, her shoulders shifting around.  I can’t tell what she’s doing.  Finally, I see her lift her gym shoes off the ground and toss them behind her, where they land on the ground some distance back.  And then THEY come up from below the desk.

                My stomach lurches as my eyes bug out of the sockets.

                God damn it, this can’t be happening.

It’s Julia’s socks.  A pair of white Nike socks with pink fabric bands wrapping around.  Running socks. 

                Thick running socks for absorbing perspiration. 

                Pinched between two of her fingers, they come over the side of the desk like massive banners.  Brian and I stumble back and Julia takes the other sock in her other finger, dangling a sock in each hand.  She studies our reactions for a minute, and I can tell she’s enjoying our somewhat leaked disgust.  Then, she releases them from her grip, and they plunge to the desk right in front of us.  They land with a wet slop noise, and several drops of sweat plop off of them to the desk, instantly moistening the ground of the desk in a little puddle.

                And it smells.  Oh, sweet Jesus does it smell.  It’s truly impossible to describe the stench currently raping the noses of myself and Brian.  Both of us stumble back, aghast at what lays before us.  The strong salt current carrying through, dewy grass stains soaked through her shoes, the smell of damp flesh still hanging around them from when they contained her massive feet.  It’s all there, and then the many other flavors of sweat.  It’s like a circus of chemicals parading around in front of us.  A pile of white, fabric, nuclear waste, soaked to overflowing with perspiration from her soles and toes.

                I can barely stand it.  Then Julia speaks.  “My socks are pretty wet from my run, boys.  So, here’s what you have to do.  Before I can put these in the washing machine, they need most of the sweat out.  You’re going to squeeze all the excess out of them…” she says, pausing for dramatic effect.  “By hand…” she ends with a huge smirk and an awful, tyrannical giggle.  She pinches her nose and laughs again.  “Good luck with that…” she says.  Then she leans back in the chair, crosses a leg, revealing her bare foot, still a pinkish color from her recent run, and watches us, absentmindedly curling her toes and cracking them at the joints.  Neither of us moves for a moment.  She nods.  “NOW, or you’re doing the shoes too,” she says, cracking her big toe at the same time for effect.  We shudder and immediately comply.

                I step forward, holding my breath, and gritting my teeth I grip a fibrous line of fabric in the sock and squeeze with all my might.  A fountain of sweat sprays forth, instantly covering my pant legs and part of my shirt.  I leap back in surprise and hear the loud laughter of Julia.  I peer over the sock and see her tilting her head, smiling at me, almost in a mocking fashion.  She’s enjoying this thoroughly.  Brian has discovered the same thing as me, but we move on.  It’s best to just dig in and get it done fast.

                And we work fast.  I figure the fastest way is to do it like mowing a lawn, so with some effort I roll my sock all the way out, as does Brian with the other sock.  Then we go out on our hands and knees down it, soaking ourselves in the foot sweat of Julia, rolling up little sections and squeezing them out.

                “Does it SMELL bad, boys?” she says, giggling some more.  I’m starting to lose my patience.  “Well, does it now?” she says again.

                “Kind of,” I say nonchalantly.  Best to answer her but keep it somewhat neutral.  She laughs again.

                “What, from ME?  You mean THESE feet…” she says, making a particularly loud cracking noise with her toes and regally raising her leg up in the air, her foot above her head where we can plainly see it above us.  I look up, and see her massive foot bending around, stretching, her toes getting some air and moving around like stubby fingers, her pale sole like a high-rise of feminine skin, the long wrinkles in her warm foot creasing in and out, her pink heels like gigantic battering rams.  “… THESE feet made all that mess?  Well what can I say, I run pretty fast,” she says, smiling and flipping her hair back.  She latches her fingers around her toes, bending them, before sliding down to her sole and gently massaging it. 

                “Oh, GOD, that was rough.  Know how far I went?  Four miles.  In just over half an hour.  Not bad, hmm?” she says happily, continuing to rub her foot.  “Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

                “Yes,” says Brian flatly.

                She turns to me.  “What about you, Jack?”

                “What?” I ask.

                “How far can you run in half an hour?”

                “I don’t know…”

                She chuckles.  “I’d guess around 200 feet…” and she has to take a laugh break mid-sentence.  “Yep, probably around 200 feet.  I don’t really know, I guess, since we don’t do much exercise around here, maybe we’ll find OUT sometime, though,” she says coyly.  She uncrosses her leg and brings the other one up, and begins kneading the toes on her other foot, sighing deeply.  The silence is broken with Brian coughing.

                “Oh c’mon now, Brian, it can’t be THAT bad.  Can it?  Does it really stink that bad?”

                He coughs again and quietly says, “Yes…”

                With that, Julia is pulling her chair closer.  She grabs Brian up in a fist, then picks up the edge of the sock with her fingertips.  “Yes, huh?  Well get a load of THIS then!” she says and releases him into the mouth of the sock.  She then uses that fist to bunch up the opening of the sock, leaving Brian trapped inside.  She holds it up like a pouch of money and shakes it.  I can hear poor Brian coughing a lung up inside the sock.  It must be like a sweatbox in there.  Literally.  And there’s no oxygen flow to counteract the smell.

                “Smell good in there, Brian?” she says, the laugh track continuing endlessly.  I haven’t seen her having this much pure joy in a long time.  It’s scary, but in a different way from earlier.  It’s like a new side of her has become unhinged.  She clenches the opening of the sock for a second in her fist.  She scrunches her nose up, lifting her upper lip.

                “Oh, BRIAN, what have you been doing?  Have you been working at ALL? This thing is still completely soaked!  I mean, look!” she says and squeezes hard at the opening.  Another spray of it comes off.  Of course, because she did it at the top of the sock, I know some must have dripped down in a waterfall style inside the sock onto Brian. 

                I say a mini prayer for him in there.

                “Oops!  I’m sorry Brian, you’re going to be a MESS now, aren’t you?  A smelly little mess…  Just like earlier!  Except the mess came from my feet this time, didn’t it?” she says.  Wow.  She’s just making up jokes at this point.  She’s getting intense pleasure out of humiliating us, Brian specifically.  This is her revenge for earlier without actually causing him physical harm.  It’s better than death of course, but it’s not pleasant to smell from out here, and I honestly can’t even picture the stimuli being forced through Brian’s brain right now.  Both of us have been covered in enough of Julia’s foot sweat to soak into our systems and hydrate us like camels for the next week.

                While still holding her sock containing Brian, Julia’s eyes shift to me and squint.  I see a playful glint in them.  Oh, God.  Am I next?  She smiles.

                “Almost done there, Jack?”

                “Um… yes, I think so.”

                “We’ll have to see…” she says, placing several fingers right in front of me and patting at the sock.  She curls her upper lip, tilts her head, then sighs.  “Yes, I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get.  Okay, you’ve done enough,” she says and giggles one more time.

                “Time to come out, Brian…” she says, and palms her other hand out, while using the other one to grasp the sock.  I see her find Brian’s small form in the fabric, probing through the fabric with her fingers, and she begins to gently poke at it.  Not in a death squeeze like earlier in the day, but it’s enough that she’s ensuring to coat him in enough of her sweat to practically soak through to his bones and disintegrate them.  After grasping at him for a moment through the fabric, using her thumb to move him around, she lets loose, grabbing the toe end of the sock, allowing the tube to flip over. 

                Brian comes tumbling out of the top and lands in her palm, which quickly closes around him.  His face looks dizzy.  She brings him to her nose and inhales strongly, before pulling him away quickly in feigned disgust.  “Wheeewwwww… BRIAN.  The way you smell, you might as well have been in between my toes when I was running!”  She seats herself once again, and raises her foot up to rest on her knee, clenching in between her toes with the hand still holding the sock.  She massages them for a second and looks at them, before her eyes dart back to Brian, then back to her sweaty toes.  For the faintest moment, I wonder if she’s considering actually testing whether or not having him wedged in between her toes would make him as smelly as being in her sock for two minutes… but she doesn’t do it, thank goodness.  She looks back down at me once again.

“You and Brian are going to need some extra bath time so you don’t smell like my shoes for the rest of the month,” she says with a grin, as she begins to toss Brian around between her hands in that playful, absentminded way she usually does with me.

We all huddle together in Brian’s room after dinner and bath time.  Brian is holding Anna against his shoulder as she continuously hugs him, not wanting to say anything.  Gina huddles close against me as we lean on the plastic wall of the dollhouse, with Kelly leaning with her knees against her chest on the other wall.  We aren’t quite sure what to do.  Finally, Brian speaks up.  We all know where this is going to go, but we’re still not prepared for how to take it.

“You all know what I’m going to say,” he says gravely.

“Brian, we can’t do this right now,” says Kelly.

“Well, when are we going to do it?” he says, a little more harshly.  She doesn’t answer.  “Look, I don’t want to have to think about it, but we have to.  Jack made me realize it.  Eventually, I mean, she’s going to know…” he says, looking down at Anna’s stomach.  She places a hand on it protectively.  “She’s going to know about it.”

“Well, what are you saying we do about it then?” says Kelly.

“We have to tell her…” says Anna quietly, finally breaking her silence.

“WHAT?” says Gina, terrified.

“What other choice do we have?  If we don’t, and I start to show, she’s going to know about it and she’s going to be pissed,” replies Anna.

“She’s going to be PISSED either way,” says Gina, almost angrily.

“I don’t hear you coming up with better ideas!” says Anna.

“Look at it this way…” says Kelly suddenly.  “If she picks you up and notices it someday, she’ll accuse you of hiding it from her… she might… I don’t know, she might do something that none of us want to think about.  But if WE are the ones to bring it up, we can at least soften the blow and word it the best way possible to try avoid any… bad reaction she might have.”  We are quiet for a moment.  She’s right, this is going to be the best way.

“No,” says Brian.  We all groan in some way.

“Then what do you want to do?” I say, trying to sound calm.  Being the youngest, I know they don’t look upon me as much of a leader or knowledgeable on these kinds of decisions so I tend not to speak up at times like this, but I really do have to know what in God’s name Brian thinks we should do instead.

“I think we get out first, before she ever sees it.”  Another groan from everyone.

“Brian, you’ve been talking about this for the past year and a half.  It’s not going to happen.  You know it, I know it, and all of us know it,” says Anna.  “Especially after these last couple days, I mean, I just… I KNOW that when she found us, she would just…” she says, but her voice is starting to crack and she can’t finish the sentence.

“She WON’T this time!” says Brian, cutting her off before she can try to finish.

“And what makes this time so different than any other idea you’ve tried to come up with?” says Gina, almost mockingly.  We’re all a little tired of this.

“Because we’ve got HIM,” he answers, pointing at me.  The other three look over at me, and for a moment I’m confused, and then I start to put the pieces together.  I know exactly where this is going.

“What about him?” says Gina, squeezing my arm as she says it, as if she’s afraid I’m about to be whisked away at any second.

“Don’t pretend that all of you can’t tell.  She likes him,” he says matter-of-factly.  Everyone looks at me curiously for a moment, then look back at Brian.  They get it now too.

“No!” says Kelly quickly.

“He can’t!” says Gina, hugging herself closer to me.  I have yet to react; I’m still trying to process the idea.

“Yes.  He can.  Listen, Jack.  You can tell it too.  She likes you.  If you can just try to… play it off a little, maybe get a little closer to her, then we might eventually have a chance to…”

“No, Brian,” says Anna.

“Why not?  It’s the best possible way!  We can’t beat her physically from any angle with any hope.  But… if we can catch her off guard, set up a little ruse…”

“NO,” says Gina, getting more nervous.

“It’s this, or we try to tell her about Anna and brave whatever it is she does in reaction.  Who knows, maybe she’ll kill one of us?” he says, more calmly than before.  He’s set on this.

“BRIAN!” says Anna, gasping and pulling back.  In all my time here, I’ve very rarely heard one of us actually be able to utter the truth aloud.  But he’s right.  Everything Brian has just said is absolutely right.  And I don’t even know what to do with myself.

“But what if he fails, Brian?  What if she finds out what’s going on?” says Kelly.

“Well, what?” he answers.

Kelly looks uncertainly over at me, as if trying to spare my feelings.  “I mean… she’s a young girl.  She likes him.  Who knows how much.  If she finds that he likes her back, then suddenly discovers it was all a trick, I mean… she could do just about anything to him to get back at him.  Breaking her heart AND trying to escape.  It would be worse for him than any of us, wouldn’t it be?” she says, not looking me in the eye as she speaks.  I don’t blame her.  She’s also right, and it scares the living shit out of me.  Brian is quiet, as are all of us.

“Well, I don’t see many other options.  Because even if we DO tell her, and she DOESN’T rip off our legs as a gut reaction, how much longer do you think we have?  It’s time to start thinking about this.  We’re afraid of her.  We’re so afraid of her, we’re afraid to even think of doing anything against her.  And you know why?” he says.  There’s suddenly a fire growing in his eyes, as if he’s planning.

“Because we should be afraid of her!” says Anna, trembling.

“No, we shouldn’t…” says Brian, but he’s cut off again.

“Look, I don’t WANT to live like this, but I also want to live, and if we ever did anything to try to stop her, we won’t live for very long.  And the time up until she ends our lives will be spent having our fucking SPINES cracked in half like wishbones!” cries Anna, her voice rising into a scream before descending again into sobs.  Her head falls back on Brian’s shoulder, and he tries to pat her head.  Gina and Kelly soon join the speaking fray with Brian, and argument fills the room.

It’s at this point I realize it’s time.  My whole life has been a bland, eventless existence.  And now I finally have the chance to do something with my life by possibly helping to save five other lives.  Dizzy, I speak up.

“I’ll do it.”

The room goes silent.  Gina lets go of me so she can turn her whole upper torso to look at me more closely.  “What?” she says disbelievingly.

“I said I’ll do it.”

“No… no, Jack.  You’re NOT going to do it,” says Kelly, shooting Brian a dirty look.  “We’re not going to let you.”

“What are you going to do to stop me?” I answer.  They all look at me in surprise.  I surprise myself.  I’ve never taken charge of the group discussion like this.  A mysterious high is filling my head. 

Or maybe it’s purpose? 

Who the hell knows.

“I think I can.  Brian’s… I mean, I think Brian’s right.  I can tell it sometimes…” I start.  “If I could just… find a way to bring it up, slowly, I might… I might be able to get a moment alone with her.”

“But Jack… that would be fine, except there’s no way for us to get something done while you’re gone.  We can’t get off the table and she won’t leave the computer,” says Kelly.

I suddenly am stopped in my tracks.  There must be a way around this.

“It’s gotta be an emergency,” says Brian.  We all look at him.

“Once you get close enough to her so that she cares a little more about you, we have to wait for her to have the computer up.  And something’s got to happen.  Something’s got to happen to you to scare her so badly that she takes you out of the room immediately without even handling the computer.  Then we can get to work.  Try the email again.”

“That’s all well and good,” says Anna, having recovered a little.  “But once she gets him to the room, she’s going to find out nothing wrong with him.  And what Kelly was saying is going to happen.  We’d all be screwed, Jack worst of all,” she says.  We all think.

“What if we actually… did something to you?” says Brian.  I feel Gina grab my arm again.

“You’re not going to do anything to him!” says Gina.

“Look, Brian,” I say.  “If you do do something to me, she’ll know it was one of you and the same thing will happen.  It’s got to be an accident, something I did to myself.  Meaning I’ve got to do it from my chair in the classroom.”  I’m not sure whether or not this excuse is an attempt to avoid real injury on my part, but I say it anyway.  It seems to make sense.

“Then what do YOU think?” he says, looking at me accusingly.  Everyone else looks over at me with a scared expression.

“Sauce,” I finally say, grinning a little as I say it.  It seems so perfect.

“Um…” says Kelly.  “Sauce?”

“Sauce.  From lunch.  It can be blood,” I say. 

“But if we HAVE sauce for lunch she’ll know it’s not blood, she’ll know it’s sauce.  Especially when she smells it.  And wouldn’t you need a wound?” says Anna.

I think for a moment.  “No.  I can I cough it up, that will take care of needing an open wound.”

“But what about the other thing?  The fact that we just had it for lunch,” says Gina slowly and fearfully.

“We’ll have to save it.  Get as much of it on our shirts as we can, get it back to the room, and just… save it in a corner.  Then after some time passes, we wait for a day where it’s something not red for lunch, I eat it… stick a finger in, it comes back up…” I say, adlibbing as I go.  It’s sounding crazier and crazier with every word, and yet so strangely and potentially successful. 

Everyone is quiet.

“It… could… I mean, it might…” says Kelly finally.

“Then I just do a little… acting, get her to pull me out of that room as fast as I can, she leaves the computer up, and then once she gets me to… wherever she’ll take me to figure out what’s wrong, I milk it for a little more time, give you as long as I possibly can.  It can work…” I say.

“No, Jack!” says Gina.  She grabs my chin and turns my head toward her.  I can see the pure fear in her face, the same face I saw when Julia was forcing her into her hand.  It’s odd to see it being directed at me.

“It can work!” I say more confidently.

“But…”

“I can do it!” I say.  “I can!”  Gina, looking defeated, lets her head hang down.  I can tell this is hitting her hard.  Probably as hard as it’s hitting me, because I’m frankly getting more terrified the longer I talk.  There’s quiet for a while again.  Then Kelly speaks.

“Then I guess we’ve got some preparing to do,” she says, smiling hesitantly.

“What?” I said, suddenly surprised to find she had taken our side.

“Well, let’s face it… this has to be perfect.  You’ll have one shot to reel her in.  You’ll have some help because she already has a little crush on you, but you have to make it grow.  And we’ll help you,” she says.  I see what she means now.

“I can use anything you can give me,” I answer sheepishly.

“Let’s get to work,” says Anna, giving the same hesitant smile.

We all end up sleeping in that room together because we stay up so late talking.  I guess you could say I’ve been “trained” a little.  I must say, it was a lot to take in, but having three different women offering honest perspectives on the topic was a lot of help.  Eventually Gina joined in, probably as a way to cut her losses and try to ensure I had the best shot at success possible.

                We all awaken to the light coming on.  The familiar thing.  And I feel an odd, old feeling of dread filling me.  Images flashing back into my mind.  Except this time, it’s from a much different cause.

                When I first arrived here and Julia started training me to be content with sleeping in this dollhouse and then getting in to the elevator in the morning like a gerbil, I was frankly so scared and sick at the same time from everything that had happened, I would sort of resisting coming out.  And the earliest image I have was my first morning waking up here, when the lights came on and I just huddled in my plastic bedroom against the wall, praying to wake up from the nightmare.  I wasn’t in some teenager’s dollhouse.  I was back in my bed, and I was going to wake up for school soon. 

                And then I saw them.  Those gigantic, pink fingers curling slowly around the doorway, then lurching forward to enter the room, like a serpent crawling through some dank tunnel.  Her palm came into view, and she curled her fingers in like claws.  I realized she had opened the top of the dollhouse in the main hall and had stuck her arm in.  However, the roof over this room couldn’t lift, so she’d have to grab me. 

                Wake up, wake up, wake up.  It’s not real.  It’s not real.

                I instantly started creeping toward the corner of the room.  If she tried to look into the room, she might not find me.  You have to understand, at this time, I had yet to even begin accepting my fate for the long run.  I figured if I just hid for long enough, I could ride it out. 

                Somehow.  I would get out.

                Her hand then went flat on the plastic floor, patting it loudly, and she began to slide her hand across, making a swishing sound as the plastic brushed against her soft hand flesh, her fingers splaying out to cover more ground.  With no time to lose I vaulted over my matchbox bed.

                I remember the fear.  Seeing her forearm bending a little, her wrist twisting at different angles as her hand slid around the room.  Eventually, she shoved more of her arm in, and I could see her bicep.  She didn’t have particularly large arms, but at this size I could see her biceps flexing and unflexing as she adjusted her position.  The raw power she carried in that one arm was enough to crunch the life from me with such ease.  I nearly wet my pants at that alone, but I kept my cool.  I held my breath, pulling my legs to my chest to take up less room in the corner.

                “JAAAAAAAACK!” I heard her call loudly but not menacingly.  She was trying to get on my side instead of scaring me. 

                It occurred to me that this must have been a new method after failing to acquire trust through brute force. 

                “JAAAAACK!  IT’S TIME TO WAKE UP!” she called again.  I felt myself shivering, and I realized that my teeth were close to chattering.  She yanked her hand and arm back out, and I could tell she had pressed her face against the doorway, looking for me.  “Jack?  Are you there?  Come on out…” she said, trying to soften her voice.  A moment later, I saw it again.  The fingers creeping in.  Even when her arm went out, I felt safe again.  Like I was back in my bedroom.  It was so surreal, to have your mind revert back to normal again only to have a hand wider than you are tall to come crawling back inside, along the walls, reminding you that you were only yesterday transformed into an object meaning no more to your captor than a toy, to be grabbed up and played with whenever it pleases her. 

                Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else had ever experienced this. I felt a little like Alice in that goddamned Wonderland, trying to figure what the hell had happened.

                She curled her fingers up and began to tap them on the floor impatiently.  Suddenly, she flattened her fingers and began sliding over the ground again, looking for me.  It was at that point I realized I was trapped, as her hand came toward me.  It was now or never.  I hopped up, hoping to land in between her fingers and jump over her hand.  It didn’t work.  My foot caught in the crevice between her pointer finger and middle finger, and feeling my ankle, she instantly tightened her fingers together, tripping me. 

                “GOTCHA!” she squealed triumphantly.

                I tried to clamber away but her hand had readjusted in the blink of an eye, and her fingers were suddenly upon me, expertly pinning me to the ground before curling around my body like snakes, the heat suddenly being held in to me, the new feeling of softness as her palm clutched me firmly, her finger muscles contorting.  It was like having a wild animal bearing down on me, ready to eat me.  Surrendering control of my movements into those fingers, into the power of that gigantic bicep.  Placing my life right in her… hand.  Right in the palm of it, as a matter of fact, to do with whatever she wanted to.  To play with, if she felt like it. 

                The wave of fear coming again...

                I blinked and tried to focus, realizing I had to be in command of the moment at hand.  This was the time.  Julia had to go to school, since it was Monday, so this would be a good opportunity to just plant an idea in her head.  The others sat up and looked at me encouragingly.  “You can do it, Jack.  Just be calm and think natural, just like we talked about…” says Kelly, putting an arm around my shoulders.  I try to breathe and focus.  The cup comes down through the hole in the ceiling.  As the other four pile in to the cup one by one, they each whisper a word of encouragement to me.  Gina is last.  She looks at me, then pounces on me in a tight hug and rocks side to side.  I hug her back and for the first time start to realize how much I want this for her in particular.  “Good luck,” she says before letting go and hopping in to the cup.  It disappears, then returns empty a minute later.  I step in hesitantly, and rise up.

                It’s the same thing I see every morning, spinning around, Julia’s face coming into view.  She’s smiling cheerily today.  The cup stops spinning, and for a moment she just smirks at me, as if trying to decide something about me.  She’s already dressed for school, wearing pink sneakers, jeans, and a fluffy looking purple vest thing, her hair pulled back in a headband out of her face.  I try to make note of this.

                “Hi there, Jack,” she says happily.  This is sort of peculiar.  Normally, we come into view in the cup, she studies us for a moment, then just grabs us up dolls coming out of her dollhouse, ready for playtime.  But she’s just looking at me.  I must admit, it’s sort of nice to not have her just snatching me up into the air like normal, but it’s a little off-putting.  Why isn’t she picking me up.  I find my mind almost wishing she would pick me up to reassure me.  What a sad creature of habit I am.

                I get myself together, mentally.  “Hi, Julia,” I try to say with more gusto than usual, since I’m normally pretty tired.  She raises an eyebrow.

                “You sound pretty happy today,” she says, still in a good mood.

                “Uh, yeah, I guess I am…” I say, smiling sheepishly.  Did I overdo it?

                “Are you just ready for the day?” she says, her mouth opening in a near-laugh.

                “Yeah.  I’m just ready to learn!” I say, toning down the excitement a bit but trying to sound happy still.  She tilts her head, as she always does.  Almost as if making fun of me in her head.  It’s like her subtle way of reminding us of who’s in charge around here.

                “Well, I’m afraid it’ll have to wait for a little bit, since I have to leave, but I PROMISE you’ll do a lot of learning when I get back to you all,” she says.  Finally, I see her hand raising.  Her fingers unfurl, hungrily, as if about to grab me up, but she stops herself.  Instead, her hand stops just short of the elevator, just below my feet, and cups for me.  “Ready to get something to eat?” she says a little more gently, nodding at me to climb in.  I nod back, then take the little leap of faith off the cup and drop down into her hand.  I get myself adjusted and take a seat, leaning against her firm fingertips.  She puts the cup down and raises herself onto her haunches, holding herself up on the balls of her feet, and raises her cupped hand up to her face. 

                Time to get to work.

I purposefully pull back a little bit as Julia’s face nears me quickly.  I don’t want to look scared, but I do it enough to be noticeable, almost as if nervous.  Then I pull my limbs in a bit, reverting from my normal position of comfortable reclining to one of rigid awkwardness.

                I see her eyes squint, almost in surprise.  She’s used to me being the one most okay with just laying back in her hand, and suddenly I’m clamming up.  I see her lip curl up in surprise.

                “Jack?  Jack… is something… wrong?” she says.  “What are you doing?”

                “I’m not doing anything!” I say confidently, trying to sound just a bit defensive.

                She shakes her head.  “No… no, you’re pulling back.   What are you doing?  What’s the matter?”

                I shrug.  “Nothing’s wrong, Julia.  I’m just fine.”

                She shakes her head again, more insistent.  “No, I can tell.  Something’s wrong, and I’m not putting you down until you tell me what it is.  Come on, Jack…” she says, her voice going lower and more persuasive.  She raises me higher, so I’m closer to her mouth and can hear her whispers a little easier.  “You can talk to ME, Jack.”

                When she does this, I do it again, balling myself up a little more, pulling back, as if afraid of her.  And honestly, I am.  But not right now; I’m afraid of what will happen if this doesn’t work.

                She doesn’t say anything, but looks visibly disturbed, pulling me away from her mouth very quickly in reaction.  It’s amazing the effect I’m having on her with just a simple, wordless motion.  Brian was right.  The longer I look at her, I can tell she’s trying to make sure I’m happy.  Maybe, just maybe, I have a shot at this working out.  I’m betting she’s thinking I’m afraid of her mouth after what she threatened Brian with yesterday.  Of course, that’s normally what she does when trying to “comfort” all of us.  She pulls us closer to her mouth and whispers, letting the heat from her voice roll over us like steam.  It’s almost a little funny to me; she’s cut herself off from her best outlet of connection to us.  It really was an odd method, but it worked for her.

                She clearly doesn’t know how to react.  She’s starting to get upset.  “Jack… stop it!  Stop doing this!  I can tell something’s wrong, and I want to know what it is.  Please tell me, Jack!” she says, sounding more and more nervous.  Her fingers curl in ever so slightly to make sure I don’t fall, and she instead raises me up to eye level.  I can see the worry in her eyes.  If she were a regular person and not a psychopath, I honestly would probably have sympathy for her, because she sounds genuinely concerned.

                She’s flabbergasted.  She’d normally get this kind of reaction from the others, but not from me.  I’m the “comfortable” one, the one she probably thinks she’s actually managed to befriend.  The one she can just pick up and talk to.  The one she can toss around in her hands like you would a pen or something when you’re just sitting at your desk thinking.  And normally she’d probably do something to teach me a lesson, like grab me by a leg and dangle me in the air over her head.  But she doesn’t, of course, because it’s me.  Brian’s right again.  She doesn’t want harm to come to me.  She simply doesn’t know how to react.

                “Jack!” she says again, her voice getting worse and worse.  “Talk to me!  It’s going to be okay, I can make it better, just talk to me…” she says, and I suddenly feel her pointer finger on her other hand gently tapping my shoulder blades before tracing down my back and to my tailbone in a stroke.  She begins to do it rhythmically, gently.  In all honesty, it feels good, but I have to use it to my advantage.

                “Well, I guess…” I say slowly, pretending like she’s coaxed it out of me.

                “Yes?”  The stroking continues, slowly.

                “I guess, I’m just feeling a little… nervous today,” I say.

                She doesn’t know what to say.  “Bu-bu-but… you’re nervous?” she says, mildly shocked.  “Why are you nervous?”  Her other hand comes up, and she opens the side of the hand holding me so the other one can help cradle me, giving me more room to spread out but still keeping a safe wall of fingers around me; she now has a better view of me.  I see her eyes looking over me, trying to figure out what’s wrong.

                “It’s just… I don’t know…” I say, milking the words hard.

                “What?”

                “I’m not sure.”

                “Jack, please tell me.  Please.”

                “I guess, I mean, it’s not really anything, it’s just you…” I say, picking the tone of the last words perfectly, trying to sound unsure of myself.  I don’t want to sound insulting, because however much she likes me, if the scales are tipped too far, she’ll flip out on whoever she has needs to in order to make a point.  I could be halfway down her digestive tract before she realizes what she’s done. 

                I see her eyes widen.  For a moment, it seems she’s considering whether or not to be angry with me, but I must have said it correctly, because they revert to concern once again, and actually she looks even more worried.

                “M-m-me?” she says, shocked again.  She’s tripping over her words an awful lot at this point, since my newfound apparent fear of her is driving her a little crazy.  She’s probably descending into sadness more than anything resembling anger right now.  “But- what did I DO?” she says, a slight trace of guilt leaking in to her words.  I almost want to laugh.  I can’t believe how easily I’ve broken her down like this.  But now that I’ve got her FIGURATIVELY in my pocket, it’s time to try to rebuild her confidence a bit.

                “No, no!  It’s nothing you did…” I say, getting more and more bashful sounding.

                “Well, WHAT, then?”

                “It’s just… oh, it’s nothing.  I’m fine, really, I…” I say, pretending to brush it off.

                “No!  Jack!  I want you to tell me right now…” she says, and as she speaks, her voice gets lower.  I feel her weight shifting as she pulls herself up into a standing position and the ground falls away on my sides.  She must not want the others to hear.  “What’s the matter?  You can tell me anything, you know?” she says, and it’s honestly the gentlest voice I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth.  It’s terrifyingly disarming.  “ANYTHING.”

                “I know, I know…”

                “Well, then, just TALK to me.  I want you to trust me, Jack.  I want to help you if there’s something wrong.  I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.  I want you to be happy…” she says.  She’s seriously falling apart right here, and she’s making an appeal to me.  Finally, confident that I’ve broken her down sufficiently enough to get the next part off correctly, I put my chips on the table.

                “I’m just EMBARRASSED…” I begin.  “I mean, I don’t know, you’re just… you’re just, so pretty today, I guess I…” I start, letting the words flow off into nothing. 

I wait a minute, letting it sink it.  I see her eyes soften, trying to figure it out.

                “What?” she says finally, coming out of the haze.  Time to milk it for all it’s worth.  I’ve had my eyes wide open for the last few minutes, so I can feel them watering, and turning red for this next part of the act.  Here goes…

                “I’m sorry!”  I blurt out, and close my eyes, letting the water in my eyes flow out like tears of fear before sniffling hard.  “I didn’t mean to… I mean, I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I just…  Oh, God, please… please… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say…” I blubber. 

                I feel like a heel right now, but with all this build-up, it’s going to pay off; it has to.

                “What?  NO!  NO!  NO!  Jack!  Stop it.  Stop it.  Stop it!  You’re okay.  It’s okay.  It’s okay… just, just…” she says, unsure of how to react yet again.  She rolls me off into one hand, and with the other one quickly begins caressing my back and shoulders with her fingers.  It’s crude, but I can tell she’s trying.  “Just STOP it, Jack!  Stop!  Now!  I, I, oh, Jack, I’m sorry.  Please stop doing this…” she says.  By this time, I’ve abandoned all hope of dignity in this little conversation, and begin to dry sob.  It’s a little fake sounding, but I don’t think she can tell because she’s so surprised at my less-than-normal reaction.

                “NO!  Jack, you can’t… I mean, it’s okay!  I’m not… what are you doing?” she says, still not quite sure of what to do.  She closes her fingers up around me like in a little cage but keeps the top open so she can keep kneading my back with her other hand.  I lunge out and wrap my arms around her thumb in a hug, something I’ve never done before.  This seems like a good a moment as any, now that I’m this far. 

                “I’m just…” I start, clutching around her thumb as hard as I can.  “I’m don’t want you to be mad…” I say, and then hide behind her thumb so she can’t see my face.  Then I bury my face as hard as I can into the flesh of her thumb. 

                I reflect on what I’m doing.  If I manage to pull this off alive, maybe I’ll be an actor when I get out of here…

                “But why would I…” she says.  The top of her thumb folds down, covering the top of my head, the small folds of her thumb flesh pressing down on me ever so slightly.  “I wouldn’t be… I mean, why would I…” she says.  She’s calmed down now that I’m talking, but she still sounds perplexed at my reaction.

                “Well, I don’t know… I guess, after yesterday, it was just…” I say.  This was the other part of the plan.  We figured as long as I’m trying to get on her good side, I also might try to convince her to tone down the punishment a little bit so that ALL five (six?) of us get out of here without a single bit of Julia’s stomach acid on us.

                “Yesterday… but I…” she says, and now she gets what I’m trying to say.  “I mean, I would NEVER have done… well, I wouldn’t have done anything to you, Jack.  You know that, right?”

                I peep out from behind her thumb, and wrap my legs around it like a monkey on a bar.  “I guess so…” I say calmly.  “I was just afraid that you might… I don’t know.  You’re not mad, are you?” I say.

                She smiles pretty big.  “No, of COURSE I’m not mad.  I mean…” she says, and with her other hand she brushes her fingers through her hair.  Primping herself.  “You… you really think I’m… pretty?”

                I hide behind her thumb again.  Now that I’m hanging on pretty tightly, she fists the rest of her fingers up, leaving her hand in a thumbs up position, essentially to make sure I don’t let go of her thumb.  She’s obviously enjoying the fact that I’ve placed myself in a place of submission and slight risk instead of her having to hold me like that.  With such a drop, I pretty much need to hang on for dear life with all my limbs to her thumb to ensure I don’t fall off.

                “Well… yeah…” I say, sheepishly again, from behind her finger but loud enough so that she can hear me.  I feel her hand rising and she turns her hand around so that she can see my face on the other side of her thumb.  She’s absolutely beaming.

                “Thank you very much, Jack.  You’re very sweet,” she says, and she grins again.  This is going much better than I expected.  Obviously, I knew she wouldn’t really try to inflict punishment on me for saying all this, but I expected some suspicion on her part.  But she’s eating it all right up with barely any effort from me.  It occurs to me how well this will fair for me for at least the rest of the week, because I’ve probably bought myself enough brownie points to avoid any sort of repercussion for anything I do wrong short of making an escape attempt or yelling random insults at Julia. 

                Unless I’m caught. 

                That thought keeps coming back. 

                If I’m caught in this act, I really don’t want to imagine where I’ll end up.

I’m now having breakfast with the rest of the group, waiting for Julia to leave the room.  The conversation didn’t carry on much after she thanked me for my generous compliment to her appearance.  She told me to eat a good breakfast because I still was feeling skinny (which she took the opportunity to give me that little squeeze around the torso to feel) and that she would teach me some more in the afternoon when she got back from school.  We ate breakfast, then Julia took out a hunk of bread and placed it in the dollhouse for our lunch. 

                Damn. 

                No sauce for us to save today. 

                Finally, she placed us all back inside the dollhouse after cleaning out the little paper cup tube in the “bathroom” at the end of the hall.  I suppose I haven’t mentioned how that works yet, but basically it’s one of those little cups for condiments at a fast food restaurant with the bottom cut out.  It leads down a little plastic paper tube and down to a little paper baggy.  Julia cleans it out every two days, before it starts to smell.  At least she can do that much for us, so we don’t have to be sitting in our own filth.

                With the bread in the house, she places the little thimble full of water in as well, and hands out the sheet music for the musical in little copied versions she made for us.  She clearly gets immense enjoyment out of that sort of thing, making small school supplies and things for us.  Like you would for a model, or a dollhouse. 

                And we are her little dolls.  Her little living dolls.

                I take that back.  We’re not always dolls.  Sometimes, if she feels like playing with something else, we’re hamsters that she can pet and primp us up with haircuts. 

                Sometimes we’re action figures when she sets up obstacle courses for us to run around on.

                The last time that happened, she took a bunch of her make-up things, lipstick tubes and stuff like that, and arranged it on the floor, making sure to make walls of shoe boxes in a perimeter.  Then she set us up in the place, and had us race to escape out the opening and into a little box.  The winner got “extra credit” on their homework.  Last time, it was Brian; he’s probably the most athletic of all of us.  I wonder when she’ll do that again….

                I’m shaken out of this memory by the booming sound of Julia’s voice.  I look up to find the other four all huddled into one of Julia’s hands, standing up but clustered together.  Her other hand is laying flat on the ground in front of me.  “Jack?  Did you hear me?  It’s time to go back in the house now,” she says gently.  Her pointer finger slides forward and taps me playfully in the knee.  I nod and place a foot on her finger, readjusting my sense of balance to the fleshy floor and step up, moving over to the more solid ground of her palm as she raises me up.  Another minute later and we’re all in the cup.  “I’ll see you all later.  Practice your music!” she says cheerfully, closing the top of the house and pushing it back inside the closet.  Another minute and I hear the closet door close.  Alone at last.

                “That was GREAT, man!” says Brian, slapping me on the back as Gina strides over and grabs onto my shoulder, hanging on.

                “Ugh…” I groan, rolling my eyes.  It was horribly embarrassing to have to break down like a little girl for Julia in front of them all.  “It wasn’t too over the top?”

                “It was perfect,” says Kelly reassuringly.  “You were a good student.”

                “I honestly thought she was going to catch on as soon as I started.  I mean, I’ve never acted like that before,” I say, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment.  “She usually gets on stuff like that pretty quickly…”

                “Jack…” pipes in Anna.  “When a girl as young and impressionable as Julia likes someone, she trades in her sense of logic.  I’d bet you’re her first crush.  She’s never felt like this before, it’s all new.  She’s figuring it out as she goes.  And that’s your advantage,” she finishes, leaning against the plastic wall.  I wonder if she’s starting to feel pain in her back.  It occurs to me that I don’t know how much time we’ve got.  I look over at Anna.

                “Do you know how long… I mean…” I start.  She nods, knowing.

                “I don’t really know, but I’m guessing I’m about five months along.  I’m starting to show a little already…” she says, laying a hand on her stomach.  “Just a second…” she says, and quickly moves down the hallway to the bathroom. 

                Morning sickness.  It’s lucky she didn’t have the urge while she was standing out there with Julia.  Brian quickly walks after her to help her if she needs it.

                “It’s not going to be much longer before she shows…” whispers Kelly to me.  “I mean, REALLY shows.  The bump is small enough now that I don’t think Julia would notice it unless she was purposefully feeling for it.  She holds her every day, so it’s probably harder for her to tell because it’s so gradual but as soon as it occurs to Julia that Anna is feeling bigger around, she’ll want to see her stomach, and then she’ll know.”

                “Can Jack be ready by then?” says Gina.

                Kelly looks over at me, trying to be positive.  “I hope so.  Jack.  I don’t want to have to say it, but we need you to make this work.  And you need to make it work fast.  You’re old enough to understand that.  How important this is.”

                I nod.  “I know.”

                “Good,” she says, not wanting to linger on the seriousness of the situation.  We hear Anna upchucking into the condiment cup down the hall.  A few minutes later, she returns with Brian.

                “Sorry about that,” she says, wiping her forehead.

                “We need to have a plan…” says Gina, and we all turn to look at her.

                “We do have one,” says Kelly uncertainly.

                “I mean a back-up one.  We don’t have one of those yet, and we’re going to need one just in case,” she says.  And she doesn’t need to finish.  We all know it’s just in case I can’t work fast enough before Anna’s condition is discovered. 

                Of course, she’s not referring to a back-up plan for if I’m caught.  We all know there’s no real way to get out of that one.

                “She’s right,” says Anna.  “What happens if she finds it before Jack can get her out of the room?”

                We all are silent for a minute, thinking.  I can see Brian thinking harder than any of us.

                “I’ve got it,” he says.

With a back-up plan in place, we all turn to the music so we can ensure something was actually accomplished in the day so Julia won’t want to have our hides for being unproductive.  The basic idea is a little weird, to say the least, but we realized it was best for all our safeties.  If Anna is discovered, the plan is to point the finger at me for being the one who did it.  Julia, being a young girl and having been educated in a certain way about pregnancy, would most likely turn on Brian first for being at fault between the two of them if we told the truth, especially since Brian is already beginning to shift to her bad side. 

Of course, this plan presents two major problems.  The first and most obvious one is plausibility.  I’m over ten years younger than Anna.   The fact that I’m usually much more mild-mannered than Brian is sort of a giveaway as well.  Brian’s a year away from Anna in age.  If someone did it, it seems most likely it was Brian.

The second problem, and more dangerous one, doesn’t even involve trying to convince Julia that it’s the truth, but ironically, the danger involved if we actually pull off the trick.  If I do manage to get closer to her heart and she develops a serious attraction to me, the discovery that I’ve apparently given myself to another woman would spell disaster for both of us.  Conceivably even worse for poor Anna, since she’s the “other woman.”

Regardless, this is the best we can hope for, in addition to a fiery fit of apology and ass-kissing we would have to all engage in as a group to soften the blow.  Even then, none of us can even hope to guess what might befall all of us as a result if it wasn’t done correctly.

It’s like what they say about cars.  Something so useful that you are inside all the time, that represents so much beauty and class can kill you so easily in the right circumstances.  It’s really the same principle, except in this instance it’s the powerful hand of a sixteen year old girl.  I’ve never had the opportunity to get a driver’s license, since I was added to Julia’s human doll collection before I was eligible for a class, but I imagine that someone sitting behind the wheel of a car feels something similar to me when I’m palmed up by Julia.  Except there’s no way to control where her hand takes me.

It’s so soft, and as I’ve said, I’ve actually found some level of comfort in it, but it really could be used for anything.  It happens so regularly, Julia’s actually trained my mind to… enjoy the feeling of comfort and safety of being in her hand.  Giving total control of myself over to her, it’s actually quite pleasant (“giving” being the operative word here; perhaps “accepting her control”).  It’s probably not unlike baby animals who feel drawn to their mother.  When I’m in Julia’s hand, I really can’t do anything about what’s going on, but I know for a fact that I am completely safe. 

Unless I’m on her nerves.  In which case I could have my lungs squeezed out my ass by those fingers of hers with one simple motion.

                We’ve been studying the sheet music pretty heavily for the last couple hours, the bread lunch long since eaten.  I’m actually getting reasonably good with a couple of the songs.  My singing voice really isn’t terribly shabby, but I’ve never bothered to join a choir or anything.  It’s not the type of group I’d want to join.  It’s not like there’s ANY group I’d want to join, but that’s really the only good reason I have.  Solitude is really the only sure thing to me.

                The songs themselves are pretty stupid.  The music isn’t too hard to learn, and the words are cliché and ridiculous sounding.  From what I’ve gathered from the songs, the basic plotline is two teens in high school (write about what you know, right?) who fall in love but each have a set of parents that hate the other set for various reasons.  They end up breaking the rules or whatever to be together.  And yes, it is a complete cop-out of Romeo and Juliet.  Obviously, none of us dares do anything but tell Julia the damn thing deserves to win a Tony award, but in reality it sucks pretty bad.  Oh well, at the very least it will get us out of some tense and boring class time.

                It must be close to 4 pm when we hear the closet door open.  Right on schedule.  I get my sea legs as the house is grabbed from the outside and dragged outward.  The opening appears in the top, but instead of lowering the cup, the entire roof comes off.  We all look up to see the massive upper torso of Julia, looking down at us and smiling, her hair hanging down on the sides of her face.  She raises a hand to push it out of the way, blinks and murmurs, then speaks.

                “Hello, everyone,” she says with glee.  Where does this girl get the energy to sound like this every single hour of every day?  “Did you all study the music?  Are you ready for the audition tomorrow?”

                We all nod.  She clears her throat.  “I SAID, are we ready for tomorrow?”

                “Yes,” we all pipe up calmly together.  We know the drill.

                She tilts her head, and purses her lips.  The whole deal.  It’s honestly one of the scariest things she does, because it always means she’s either suspicious of something, or is about to try something that usually results in a degree of discomfort for all of us.

                “Kelly,” she says calmly, her hand descending down and casting a shadow over Kelly.  She wraps her up in a fist and raises her out of the house.

                “Are you going to sing well tomorrow?” she says nicely.

                “Yes, I am,” says Kelly.  The easiest response.

                “Do you know how to sing?” Julia responds.

                “Yes.”

                “Why don’t you let me hear some of it?”

                Kelly is (relative to us) about two stories up in the air, so I can barely hear her, but I hear her clear her throat before beginning on a standard C scale.  She gets all the way up and to the bottom again without a vocal response from Julia, who is stoic.

                “Hmm… you’re not bad…” says Julia.  “You’re a little flat.  Keep your voice in control and keep practicing,” she says.  She lowers Kelly back in, and without even removing her hand, her fingers walk over like legs to me.  In order to get enough leverage to pick me up, her fingers curl toward me and push me backward, roughly up against the wall as she slips a finger under my legs and pulls me into the air, near her face.  She holds me back a little further than usual, and eventually raises me up to eye level, remembering my “fear” of her mouth from this morning.

                “What about YOU, Jack?  Have you practiced so you can sing well tomorrow?”

                “Yes.”

                “I’m glad,” she smiles.   “Can I hear you?”

                “It’s not quite ready…” I say, trying to sound sheepish.  She looks at me disbelievingly.

                “I’m sure it’s great.  Now please sing for me.”

                “I can’t when you’re holding me like this.  It’s harder to use my diaphragm right.”

                She looks impressed by my apparent knowledge of singing procedure.  “Okay.  Here, let me just…” she says.  She opens her hand up so I can stand in her palm, then starts to tilt it upward, so her hand is in a high-five position.  “Hop in there,” she says. 

                She means between her fingers.  I step up just as her hand goes vertical, between her pointer and middle fingers.  She separates them so she can see me clearly.  For balance, I rest my arms on the tops of her fingers, which are just below my shoulders, adjusting my footing on the soft area between her fingers, then proceed to rattle around on my scales.  I get through a full scale before stopping.

                “Umm… is that enough?” I say.  She smiles at me.  I can’t see her mouth, but I can tell she is because of the little laugh wrinkles that bunch up around her eyes.

                “That was BEAUTIFUL, Jack.  Keep that up and maybe you’ll get the lead,” she says, winking.  She’s not fooling anyone, I know perfectly well she wrote that part for me.  Her only regret is probably that she can’t play my young lover in the musical.

                After my scales, she gently places me back in the hallway.  Her hand flips over into a cupped position and stops in front of Gina.  Her eyebrows raise.

                “Don’t forget our conversation, Gina.  Now get into my hand, please,” she says.  Gina quickly gets in, but I can see her legs and shoulders already shivering in fear from the height to come.  Julia raises her to a certain height, then sneaks her fingers from her other hand into the cupped hand.  Using her thumb, pointer, and middle fingers, she grips Gina around the stomach and plucks her out, leaving her legs dangling. 

                What a bitch, she’s trying to test Gina’s will again.  She’s trying to train her, just like she has the rest of us already.  Fears, of course, are much harder to break than through repetition.  I’m not seeing Gina’s disappearing through sheer experience like Julia believes.

                Her pinky and ring finger curl backward, keeping her other three straight as they hold Gina like a pencil.  She moves Gina closer to her face and smiles.  I can see Gina’s shaking getting worse.

                “See, it’s not so bad,” Julia says cheerfully.  Her smile quickly turns into a confused frown.  “Gina… stop shaking, please.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

                I’m starting to get nervous.  She’s trying to force an ultimatum out of Gina, to get her to be over her fear of heights.  She may or may not turn this into a terrifying punishment if Gina doesn’t obey the impossible command to stop her involuntarily shaking limbs.

                “Look, Gina.  There’s nothing to be scared of.  I can make sure you don’t fall.  See, here…” she says, raising her other hand back up.  She extends her pointer finger horizontally, like you would if you had a bird sitting on your finger, and she plops Gina onto her finger, forcing her to straddle it.  Gina instantly plunges her chest down onto the finger so she can wrap her arms around it.  Her shaking gets even worse.

                Julia raises her pointer finger up, with the small girl dangling for dear life onto it.  She squints.

“Let go, Gina.  I want you to just sit on my finger, not hang on like that.  You’re okay.  Just let go.”  Gina refuses to budge.

                “Let, GO, Gina.”

                “But I… I’m going to fall…” says Gina finally.  I want to help her badly.

                “Julia, she’s fine.  Just let her sing and be done!” I yell upward.  Julia stares down at me, then shakes her head.

                “I appreciate your concern for your classmates, Jack, but Gina has to learn a lesson right now.”

                “But can’t you see?  She’s not afraid of you, Julia, she’s afraid of heights,” I say, hoping to save Gina before the situation worsens.  Julia’s eyes dart back to her finger and the poor girl cutting off the bloodflow in an attempt to not fall off.  I can literally see Julia’s fingertip beginning to turn white, in odd contrast to the pink and peachy flesh tone of the rest of her hand.  But Julia doesn’t appear to be considering my point.

                “Let go now, Gina.  Or I’ll flip my finger over.”

                That gets her attention.  Steadying herself as best she can, Gina is forced to let go.  Still laying down on the finger for leverage, she holds her arms out to the far sides of her body for balance.

                “Now sit up, Gina.  I don’t want you laying down.”

                “But…” whispers Gina.  I can literally see sweat forming on Gina’s body from down here.

                “Gina, this is your last chance.  You’re going to sit nicely on my finger.  And you’re going to sing to me.  Be a little birdie for me and sing a nice song.”

                Gina gulps, and rears up.  Her face is clammy, the front of her shirt darkened with a cold sweat.

                “GOOD, Gina.  See, that wasn’t so bad.  Now sing.”

                Closing her eyes, Gina hugs her arms to her chest and starts to sing a scale.  It’s actually not bad, but in her nervousness she cracks several notes.  Julia makes a tsk tsk noise at her at the end.  It’s so terrible and odd to see at the same time.  A person perched like a sparrow on the finger of another, huge, person, singing a song.  Sweating a storm out in fear.

                “Keep practicing, Gina.  You need some work,” says Gina finally.  To end the uncertainty of whether of not Gina is going to lose her balance, she quickly grabs her up in a fist and frowns, clenching her around the torso.

                “Gina… you’re sweaty.  I mean, you’re really sweaty.  What’s the deal?  Why can’t you just sit still like a GOOD little girl for me and not make a mess on yourself?” says Julia, sounding more and more irritated.

                “I’m… I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too, I mean… I can’t help it…” chokes Gina, her throat going dry.

                “I just can’t understand it.  Why do you have such a problem with me holding you?”

                “I don’t!  I don’t.  I just… don’t like heights.  That’s all.  I don’t like heights.”

                Julia shoots a glance down at me, almost as if blaming me for the reaffirming of what I had said earlier.

                “Well, I don’t want you to be afraid.  So you’re going to stop it.  Today.  Now.”

                “Bu-but… I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m trying.”

                “No, you’re not, Gina.  You’re not trying.  You never try.  You just whine and complain and then you sweat all over the place.  You’re really a disappointment, Gina.  Do you know that?” says Julia, more sternly than before.

                “Julia!” I shout upward at the top of my lungs, trying again.  “Just leave… her… ALONE!”

The room goes silent.  This never happens. 

                Ever. 

                The last time someone openly ordered Julia to leave someone alone, she was killing Jim.  And the look she gave us alone was enough to shut us up and let her drink the man out of a glass without another peep from us.

                “W-What?” says Julia, just as surprised as me and the other four captives hanging around.  “What did you say, Jack?”

                “I said leave her alone,” I say, swallowing hard, my throat rapidly drying to the point that I can barely get the words out clearly.

                David and Goliath.  I’m staring upward, defiant.  The terrifying goddess-woman staring down at me, fisting the girl I just realized I have genuine feelings for like a ragdoll.  I’d like to be able to say I’m feeling good, strong in the knowledge that I built up a good enough repertoire with Julia this morning in my hilarious act of flattery to withstand whatever I’ve just started.  But to tell you the truth, I can feel my bladder about to let loose.

                Julia is unsure of what to say.  She lowers her hand back down to me, the one still holding Gina.  Gina is just a few feet away from me now, her face washed out, sweat covering her forehead.

                “Jack… stop…” Gina whispers to me, her words cut off by her nervousness and the slightly labored breathing she has to undergo in order to get oxygen while in Julia’s death grip.  Julia’s fingers ripple around Gina’s body, teasing me.  Gina makes a slight “oog” noise as she does this.  Then, it happens again.  Harder.  She’s squeezing her, just to get at me.  I look up and see the stone face of Julia.  No emotion as she inflicts pain on the poor girl in her hand.

                “STOP,” I finally yell out.  I can’t look at this for much longer.   Julia pulls the hand holding Gina backward, then comes back down for me with the other.  And I’m willing to bet it’s not going to be a comfortable grip.

                I’m right. 

                With just her thumb and pointer finger, she grips my left ankle, then yanks outward, tripping me.  My head hits the plastic wall hard.  Brian and Kelly move forward protectively, but don’t do much else.  It’s not like they can do anything for me.

                With me down on the ground, Julia’s hand raises up slowly, letting me hang downward.  I look forward, seeing Gina in Julia’s humongous fist, having wrestled her arms loose from the powerful pull of Julia’s fingers.  She’s reaching out to me.  I wave to her and try to give her a thumbs up.  A moment later, I find myself moved right in front of Julia’s nose, looking downward (which is really upward, since I’m upside down) at Julia’s face.

                “Would you like to say that… one more time?” says Julia. 

                At this point, I can tell she’s in crazy mode.  Just like she was with Brian yesterday.  My reputation just might not be enough to save me. 

                And I couldn’t give a bigger shit.

                “I said, leave Gina alone.  She’s afraid of heights,” I say, gaining confidence in my newfound abandon of the situation. 

                Julia nods calmly.

                “I thought you said that,” she says, lowering her hand until I’m in front of her mouth.  “And what about you?  Aren’t you afraid of something else… too?” she says.  And then I see it. 

                Her lips part. 

                Her teeth gleam. 

                She smiles. 

                A low chuckle rumbles out from her throat. 

                The same ritual.  And then it happens; her teeth part, and being this close up I can see a lot more than I ever wanted to.

                A little river of saliva flowing around behind the wall of those huge, perfectly straight ivories.  Looking closer, though, I see a little tan speck, jammed between two of her teeth, probably from lunch.  The dark red cavern of her mouth, undulating and shining with spit, stretches back a good distance to her throat, which I can barely see the entrance to.  Thick strands of saliva stay attached to her molars and the roof of her mouth at various places like clear, shining stalactites in this awful cave.

                But of course, all that is an afterthought.  “It” is what my eyes are really drawn to. 

                Her tongue. 

                A singular mass of twisting pink muscle, completely slimed in her digestive enzymes, covered in rows of taste buds like cups on the bottom of octopus tentacles, its width changing every few seconds as she involuntarily flexes it; the strongest muscle in her powerful body.  It dips quickly, upsetting the serene lake of saliva collected at the bottom of her mouth with a soft “plunk” noise that probably only I can hear.  And then it rears forward, curling forward, and creeps over the threshold of her teeth, leaving several potent strands of saliva attached from the base of her mouth.  Then it stops.

                “No, I’m not afraid,” I finally manage to say, getting a bit dizzy as the blood rushes to my head.

                “Oh, you’re not?” says Julia nonchalantly, her tongue whipping back into her mouth so she can speak.

                “No.  I’m not.”

                “Well, that’s funny.  Because I think you should be.  Just think about it.  How easy it would be.  How I could just open my mouth ALL the WAY, and put you… inside me…” she says, the same pleasure creeping back into her voice that she got from Brian. 

                I’d literally be willing to bet she’s getting sexual pleasure out of what she’s threatening to do.  The way her voice descends to such a focused murmur, it’s really quite plausible.  And scary as holy hell. 

                She continues, “I could just… SUCK on you.  I’d suck on you until all the flavor was gone.  Until your skin was falling off of your little body, Jack.  Is that what you’re telling me, Jack?  You wouldn’t be afraid if I put you inside my mouth right now and sucked your skin off?”

                I swallow again.  But I’m still.  Completely still. 

                Hell, I haven’t even pissed my pants; that’s the real miracle here.  I listen to the silence and can make out the muted sobs of Gina, still gripped in Julia’s other hand, probably already mourning my untimely death.

                “NO,” I say with force, not rudely.  I just say it.  Like I mean it.  I’m not sure if I actually DO mean it or not, but I say it nonetheless.

                “No.  You wouldn’t be afraid.  But think about it.  When ALL your skin had fallen off and you were screaming…” she says, her voice going lower.  That last word in particular seems to make her happy.  Her smile gets even wider, if that’s possible.   “…screaming for me to let you out.  To give you another chance.  But I won’t.  I’ll just smile, and then I’ll close my teeth together and chew you up reaaaaally slooooowly, Jack.  And when I’m done with that, you’ll go ALL the way down THERE…” she quips, opening her mouth wider.  Light streams in, and I can see her uvula all the way in the back of her throat.  “And you’ll be inside me… forever.  You’d be food to me, Jack.  A piece of food.  One bite.  That’s all you are.”

                I’m silent.  As is she.  I look up at her eyes, fire in them, studying me for a reaction.  I realize that there is little to no chance of going back.  She’s never gone this far and NOT acted somehow.  Except when I was there and was up next on the chopping block.  But now it’s me, first, on the chopping block.  And there’s no one to save me.

                “You wouldn’t do it,” I say, almost mockingly.  I don’t know where that came from, but I figure I might as well say something; the longer the silence I take, the more I have time to think about what I’m doing, and the more I’ll probably start to realize I could very well be about to die.  It’s best not to consider that.

                “Oh… I think I would,” she answers, laughing at me lightly, mocking my answer right back.  Her mammoth tongue pokes out from between her nearly closed teeth again, moistly slobbering over her lip crevices, creeping slowly toward me. 

I stare at the wet tip of her gigantic tongue poking between her teeth.  Daring me to continue on talking like this as I dangle upside before her moist lips and gleaming teeth.  So I take the dare.

                “You wouldn’t do it.  I know you wouldn’t.”

                For a moment I see genuine shock on her face, then she composes herself once again into sadism.  She takes a deep breath, then exhales onto me.  Heat wave.  Maybe my last one I’ll ever feel.  Her eyes roll and she tilts her head back, letting her hair fall out of her face, then whips it back into place.

                “And why wouldn’t I, Jack?”

                “Because you can’t.”

                Silence again.  I can’t believe I’ve actually lived this long.  It’s coming to a head soon.  I can feel it.

                “Yes, I can, Jack.  I CAN.  I can do WHATEVER I want.  To ALL of you.  You’re mine.  You belong to me.  Your life… belongs to ME,” she says forcefully, clearly running out of clear options to take in reprimanding me.  “You’ve ALWAYS belonged to me.  Before you even moved here, into my house.  Before you got here.  Always.  When I found all of you, I knew you were mine.  So I took you.  I didn’t steal you.  It wasn’t wrong.  It was right.  Because you ALL belong to ME,” she says, grunting with rage, repeating herself in an effort to convince us.  Her volume is rising.

                “It wouldn’t take much, Jack.  You wouldn’t take much.  All I’d have to do would be to get… one… little… taste of you, and the next thing you know, you’d going down… my… throat,” she says, but the last few words begin to muffle because of what’s going on.  As she speaks the next few sentences, her tongue emerges from her lips fully, snaking toward me.  Widening as she flexes it.  And then it’s on me, all over my face. 

                All over my body.

                Heat instantly begins radiating into my skin by sheer brute force as waves upon waves of rippling, hot saliva are slaked over my entire body as Julia drags me from the slick, cold tip of her tongue and down the relatively short length of it to her lips.  My head slams against her lips, and then I suddenly feel my abdomen being pressed down as she drills me down against the flattest, warmest section of her tongue.  My breathing quickens, almost causing me to hyperventilate, as I find myself blowing a bubble directly into a streaming river of spit in an effort to breathe, settling like mud or glue onto her titanic tongue.  The bubble balloons disgustingly around my head as I struggle desperately in the tiny air pocket I have for life, then pops, sopping into my hair and shirt and causing me to gag as my mouth fills with Julia’s gooey, steaming mouth juices.  Slowly, as her spit clogs my throat and inside of my cheeks and my coughing becomes more and more useless, I press down as hard as I can, hoping to gain some leverage, but I feel like I’m pressing down on a punching bag that’s just been doused in syrup.  Not only is it physically rock-hard and refusing to budge, the surface is so slippery and uneven, I can’t possibly hope to get a good enough grip on her taste buds to make a new air pocket for myself.

                Julia’s fingers tilt on my leg and drag me back in the other direction, pulling my face around her tongue in a lap before sliding me back along her tongue, to the wider, thicker section again.  Flecks of spit from the motion rain down on my soaking pant legs, my arms twisted uncomfortably under my body as Julia presses down again, dunking my head as deep as it can go into the scalding, mucky valley of her dark red tongue.

                My breathing slows.

                I’m about to be killed by a tongue.  I’m literally about to die because I’m buried in someone’s tongue.  The tongue of an adorable, smart sixteen-year-old-girl.  A gigantic, monstrous tongue longer than me end to end, but a tongue nonetheless. 

                I had often thought about this.  The ways I could go.  The thousands of ways.

She could have balled me into a fist and squeezed until my intestines started leaking out from the bottom of her fist.  She could have grabbed onto my feet with one thumb and my head with the other, then yanked hard and ripped me in half.  She could have pinned me down with just her pinky finger, pressed hard, and crushed my heart inside my chest using my own ribcage.  She could have dug her fingernails into me so hard that it broke my skin and punctured a lung.  And that’s just what she could have done with her hand.  She could have smashed me under her heel.  Ground me into her shoe with her sole.  Put me between two of her toes and pinched together until I was paralyzed.  Tucked me in the space between her toes and the ball of her foot and scrunched me up inside it.  She could have eaten my limbs off.  She could have chewed me up and swallowed me, only to shit me out a few hours later.  Hell, she could have jammed me right up her anus and let me die of oxygen deprivation inside.  And it would have been less weird than this is.  Seriously.  I’m about to be killed from being helplessly smothered into a teenage girl’s fucking tongue because I dared to stand up for my friend.  What kind of world is this, anyway?

                And finally, it’s over.  With a quick sweep she’s swung my body away from the massive thing.  I open my eyes and see her tongue retracting into her mouth, at least three saliva strands connected to me in a direct line back to her lips.  Her tongue sweeps across her lips once more and cuts them all, leaving two of them still hanging on me, dangling in front of my face.  She giggles loudly, dangerously close to a cackle.

                “THAT’S why you should be, Jack.  So I’m going to say it one more time before I put you all the way in and add you to my lunch.  Are you SURE you’re not afraid?”

                I flail around for a moment, readjusting my sense of direction, as if drunk, and manage to find my face.   With my damp hands, I wipe across and remove the thick layer of saliva still coating me all over so I can get a better view.  Then, I reach up and grab at the strand hanging from my chest, right in front of my face and rip it off. 

                “NO, I’M NOT,” I yell out as loud as I can at her, leaning forward against gravity.  She rears back. 

                Almost afraid. 

                Of me.

                “You’re not going to do it.  I know you’re not.  And so I’m not afraid.  You’re not going to do it.  You’re not going to eat me, Julia,” I say, lowering my voice.  Her eyes break contact with mine, looking to the side.  She tilts the hand holding me at a diagonal angle so I can fall in, and she quickly adjusts it to a horizontal angle so I can sit there.  “You’re not, are you Julia?” I say confidently.

                “No,” she whispers finally.  Her hands lower me and Gina to the ground and I roll off to the ground with a nasty slop as the saliva dribbles onto the ground.  The others dash to both of us, pulling us to our feet.  We all stare up at Julia, afraid to make the wrong face and piss her off in her moment of weakness.

                “Class is… cancelled for today…” she says, and without another word covers the house roof up and pushes us back into the closet.  We’re all silent for a moment.  Gina bum rushes me and almost knocks my wind out in a hug.

                “Oh my G…” she starts, but her voice chokes off.  She still seems to be getting over the fear she felt for herself earlier.

                “Jack, how did you…” says Brian, dumbfounded.

                “I… don’t really know…” I say, feeling the adrenaline hitting my brain again.

                “That proves it!  That shows that you CAN do it, Jack!  I know you can now!”

                “Yeah, yeah, that’s right, umm…” I say, feeling my stomach starting to object to the high I’m getting.  I pull away from Gina, who is now sticky with Julia’s saliva as well after hugging me, and rush to the little bathroom to upchuck, my nervousness finally caught up with me.  All things considered, it’s not as bad as I was expecting the last five minutes to turn out.

Dinner goes without event.  Julia doesn’t say a single word to us, not even when lifting us out of the house and setting us on the table.  Bath time goes the same way.  Not a word is spoken as we are soaked in the bowl and dried off.  However, as per tradition, I am last.  Julia looks down at me a little differently before she makes a move.  She sighs gently, not even really in an apologetic way, but almost in a way of regret.  For the briefest moment, it occurs to me that she’s gotten over her little “moment” from earlier and is intending on finishing the job she came so close to doing earlier, but I force myself to keep my cool. 

                I made it this far, I’m not going to let it end now.

                She leans forward a little, catching herself with both hands on the little tray table I’m standing on, setting her fingers splayed out on the table several feet away from me.  I look straight up at her, but I can hear her fingers tapping loudly away on the table, can feel the vibrations they send through the table and to my body.  She looks straight down at me, her hair hanging down and obscuring part of her face.

                “How are you doing, Jack?” she asks.  There’s no waver in her voice.  She’s clearly not reeling from the fright she gave me earlier.  This is cause for mild alarm, but I still manage to keep it together.  Freaking out in any way would just fuel the fire, I tell myself.

                “I… uh… good…” I say, not entirely sure what the correct answer is.

                The standard reaction.  She tilts her head and purses her lips, bringing one hand up from the table to quickly brush the excess hair out of her face before bringing it back to rest on the table.

                “Are you sure?” she says in a way that begins to border on the condescending and hesitant yet firm response to, say, an elementary school child.

                “Yes,” I say with a little more confidence, nodding my head hard enough so that she can clearly distinguish my answer.  Her face doesn’t really change, but I feel like she’s accepting the answer for now.

                “Good.  I’m glad to hear that.  But I do think we need to have a little chat…” she says simply, using no inflecting.  My chin moves down from staring straight up at her face to back to eye level, and my eyes are met with her fingers curling in midair, preparing to grip me.  I’m up in the air and at her eye level a moment later. 

                She’s not squeezing the living shit out of me; I suppose that’s a good sign. 

                She doesn’t say anything, but instead saunters slowly over toward her bed, or at least I think that’s where she’s going.  I twist around as far as I can and see it fast approaching, although I can’t turn that far around since she’s gripping me in a forward facing direction tightly enough that moving anything below my shoulders is difficult.

                She slides easily into a sitting position, then both of us are rolled back as she goes into a laying down position on her bed, resting her head on a pillow.  She shifts her grip on me from the gentle fist into the pencil hold, where her thumb and middle finger grip me by the chest.  Slowly, I am raised up and placed on her horizontal crossed right leg, which is resting on her left one.  I feel the warmth of her bare skin under my rear end as I take a seat, letting my legs hang down, and I can feel the muscle within the thick layers of skin and tendon.  I look over to my right and see her pink sock-clad foot, slowly twisting around.  Her ankle cracks after a moment of this.  My gaze goes back to her.

                It’s odd, but she seems sort of far away now, even though she’s technically right underneath me.  She gives me a calm smile, but nothing overt.  Her hands go behind her head, using them as extra cushioning.

                “Comfy?” she asks after a moment of a staring contest.

                “Yes…” I say.  I wouldn’t dare answer in the negative.  I’m guessing this is another way for her to feel in control, since I have to actually try to maintain a sense of balance while sitting on here, although I’m not in a huge danger of falling since her leg is so massive compared to me that even being halfway on her calf, I have a little ridge where the muscle breaks off inside her leg to use as a sort of seat.

                “Good,” she says, while simultaneously flexing her calf.  It shifts me upward, and it’s a little scary to feel the floor go rock-hard before settling back into a softer groove, as if reminding me that relative to my size, she could probably lift a dump truck with no problem.  I jitter for a moment, my hands searching for some imaginary object to hold onto, trying to use that cut-off point between her calves and the rest of her leg.  Her legs are perfectly bare, so it’s not like there’s even little hairs for me to try and grab onto.  She obviously shaves them, possibly out of slight embarrassment at how easy it would be for the five of us to see them at our size.  I see her mouth widen into a big grin as I struggle for a moment. 

                This conversation is just peachy already.

“I wanted to just make something super clear to you, Jack.”

                “Okay.”

                “I don’t want to do anything to you.”

                “Okay.”

                “You do remember that, right?”

                “Um, yeah.”

                “That I don’t want to have to hurt you.  Tell me you understand that.”

                “I understand.”

                “Understand what, Jack?”

                “That you don’t want to hurt me.”

                She smiles and clears her throat before continuing.

                “Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.  But, I do need you to remember something else.  I don’t want to do anything, but to make sure everyone here stays happy and in their place, I may have to under the right circumstances.  Like today.”

                “Yes.”

                “I should have done something, Jack.  You deliberately went against my rules and talked back when I’ve specifically said how much I hate it when people do that.  So I should have done something to make you remember that I’m in charge around here.  But I decided not to.  Do you know why, Jack?”

                “No,” I lie.

                “Because I like you.  You’re a good boy.  Most of the time, you do what you’re supposed to.  You listen to me.  And just like I hate being disobeyed, I like it when people listen to me.  So, before I did anything I might…” she says, swiping a hand across her mouth pensively, as if reflecting on the fact that she almost had me in there permanently.  “…regret later, I thought I should just leave you with that little warning I gave you earlier instead of going further.  Does that make sense?”

                “Yes,” I lie again.  I distinctly remember her continuing to threaten to eat me after she nearly drowned me in her saliva, though.  I know damn well, just as much as she does, that the only thing that made sure I’m sitting on her calf right now and not roasting in the pit of her stomach was the fact that I was able to yell enough to snap her out of her little fit of crazy rage.  It wasn’t planned out.  But she doesn’t want me, or the others to know, that she sort of makes up a lot of this as she goes.  She’s smart, but she’s not that smart.  She just has to keep up the face all the time.

                “Good, I’m glad it does,” she answers, and her leg begins to rock very slowly and gradually so that I am able to adjust to the swings by applying different amounts of pressure down onto her skin on either side of me without having to grasp for support.  “But that’s why we’re here, Jack.  I want to remind you that that was JUST a warning.  Next time you do something like that, I may not be as nice and forgiving as I was today.  Do you understand me?”

                “Yes.”

                “Do you?”

                “Yes.”

                “Because I need to make sure we are perfectly clear with one another right now, so there are no misunderstandings ever again.  Why is this, Jack?”

                “What do you mean?” I ask.

                “I mean why do you have to listen to me, Jack?”

                “Because something bad will happen to me if I don’t,” I say, picking the shortest and most neutral explanation of it that I can.  I don’t want to sound totally content with it, but I also don’t want to sound defiant.

                “Mmmm…” she sighs, squinting a little at me.  “More than that.  I told you about it earlier, but maybe you don’t remember because…” she does a low little giggle, “…you were about to slide down my throat like a little fish, but I reminded you and everyone about it.  What is it?”

                “Umm…” I say, trying to get at what she’s wanting.

                “You belong to me, Jack.  That’s what you have to remember.”

                “Okay.”

                “Say it back, Jack.”

                “Why?” I ask.  I know this is testing the waters, but it really does pain me to have to think about this kind of thing.

                “Because I said so, Jack.  And because you DO belong to me.  You are mine.  Everything about you is mine.  Your puny little body.  Your clothes.  Your thoughts.  Your LIFE,” she says, her voice going low again.  “And if I want to eat it, that’s my choice.  Not yours.  Now say it,” she hisses.

                She seems dangerously close to descending into that “mode” again, so I decide to cut my losses and just spit it out.

                “Okay… I… belong to you…” I say, the words stinging my throat.

                She nods approvingly.  “That’s better.  So tell me, my little guy…” she begins.  Her hand shoots forward.  I lean back instinctively, but instead of grabbing me her fingers grapple onto the edge of her calf and begin to rub it.  “…have we learned a little lesson today?”

                “Yes,” I say, nodding, hoping to get this over with.

                “Now…” she says.  “I did want to talk to you about something else…”

                I can’t place it, but something in her voice has changed.  It’s calmer, smoother.  More human.  The fire in her eyes may or may not be extinguished for the time being.

                “Yes?” I say, neutral as possible, as always.

                “I know you told me you liked how I looked…” she begins, and she’s trying to be calm and formal about this, but I can hear a peep of glee in her voice.  She clearly is over the moon that she’s actually gotten one of us to have a deep attachment to her.

                “Yes?” I say, starting to sound a little nervous, emulating my voice from our earlier conversation.

                “…so I wanted to talk a little more…” she says, and the hand that’s been smoothly massaging her calf suddenly shakes it roughly.  I go into a laying down position in an attempt to keep my balance, but there’s no chance; I go sliding off her smooth calf a moment later.

                I gasp in surprise as gravity grabs at me and yanks me downward.  I land with a little thump on the cottony floor of Julia’s t-shirt, just above her crotch and where the t-shirt ends.  I pull myself up, using a little poking fold of fabric as a grip.  Julia giggles.

                “Sorry about that, Jack.  It’s not that far of a drop.  You okay?”

                “Yeah… yeah…” I repeat, shaking my head and reorienting myself.  I look up from her shirted stomach and find her massive palm already in the process of gripping me up for the second time today.  She’s very gentle, though, having a light grip on me and twisting her pinky finger to the bottom of her fist to allow me something to stand on.  I use it, and find that I actually have enough room inside her hand to hang on to the cracks between her fingers for extra balance.  It’s not like I have any chance of falling in this little tube of flesh that is her fist, but for my sense of balance it’s comforting.  She pulls me closer to her face, then actually raises me above her face far enough that I can see most of her face below me.  It’s odd for her to have to look up to see me, when it’s always me straining my neck just to see her eyes.

                “Yes?” I say, hoping to look cooperative by being the first one to speak for once.  Her grin widens, showing her teeth again.  She gives me a little squeeze, tightens her grip, then turns me at a diagonal angle so I can see her entire face.  It’s a little disorienting, but her fingers assure me I have no chance of falling.

                “I wanted to know… if you like me,” she says, actually sounding kind of bashful. 

                You know, like any normal sixteen year old girl with a crush on someone would. 

                Obviously in this case she is, for all intents and purposes, the owner of the object of her desire, but it’s something to hear a spark of a real person in her voice.

                This is perfect.  She’s played right into my hands.  Again, ironically, I’m sitting precariously in hers, but metaphorically, she’s in mine. 

                Time to play it up.  I tilt my head away far enough that I look sheepish but not scared.

                “Awww… Julia, you’re trying to embarrass me,” I say, but I do it in an almost playful way, putting positive emphasis on her name as if I like saying it.  She smiles, then giggles again.

                “It’s a simple question, Jack.”

                I take a deep breath, much deeper than I need to, but I want her fingers to feel my chest rising as if this is a big moment for me, as if I have to muster up the courage to get the next part out.

                “Yes…” I say quickly and deviously, burrowing down as hard as I can into her fist to gain cover.   I actually manage to hide part of my face, but I feel the fingers from her other hand at the bottom of her fist, pushing up on my feet to force me back out.

                “Wuu-wuu-waah!” I gargle for the second annoying time in the last few minutes.  She pushes up so far, that she’s actually only holding my feet in her curled pointer finger; the rest of me is standing up, trying to balance.  I look down at her face, and it’s absolutely alight.  I have never seen her so happy looking.  I of course don’t mean insane-about-to-kill-someone happy, I mean happy.  Legitimate, real-human being feeling.  Another first from her.  Why didn’t we try this sooner?

                “Well…” she says, equally as playfully.  Suddenly, her fist opens, releasing my feet.  I bump through her soft hand, now in the shape of a C, and land in her outstretched palm below that hand, which doesn’t close; it’s not much of a drop, so it doesn’t hurt.  I quickly crawl to the end of her hand, which is now about level with her face.  She arches her neck up a little so she can see me, her eyes now actually a little above me.  “Isn’t there something else you want to say, Jack?” she says finally.  I take a sitting position in her palm, feeling it’s safe to do so.

                “Umm… I mean… I don’t mean to be rude, or anything…” I say, hinting back at that whole ridiculous humble thing I did earlier to her about her looks.  The head tilt, eyes squinting, mouth curving thing happens.

                “Jack… now, we talked about that, you’ll never make me mad if you’re just being a nice little boy like you normally are… no, I mean, don’t you know what you’re supposed to say next?”

                “Ummm… I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what you mean,” I say respectfully, and I’m honestly not sure what it is she wants at this point.  “You’re… very pretty and very sweet,” I offer, wondering if this is what she wants.  She shakes her head playfully side to side.

                “Noooo… Jack, don’t you know ANYTHING about women?” she says.

                “No, and I never will after what you’ve done to us, bitch…” I think to myself, reflecting on how any perceptions I ever had of women were kind of shattered by the last two years spent in the warm hands of my crazy captor.

                “I… guess not, sorry,” I answer.

                “Well…” she begins.  “It’s just that when you LIKE someone, you’re SUPPOSED to…” she says, and suddenly her palm is moving closer to her mouth.

                Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  What is she doing with me?  Surely she’s not going to repeat…

                Her lips part a little, just so she can speak, and the oven of her mouth begins releasing heat, forcing me to close my eyes, before she murmurs gently: “…ask her out on a date.”

                She moves her hand back to its original position where we can see each other better.  Sweet baby Jesus, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. 

                This… just… might… work.

                She begins to stare at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised ever so slightly, her mouth frozen in a kind smile.  She’s actually waiting for me to say it.

                The funny part is, she’s apparently new to this too.  Clearly, she’s pushed me into this whole thing but now she’s sitting there, waiting for me to talk but at the same time I see hope and glee in her eyes, as if this whole thing was entirely MY idea.  It’s like a little fantasy for her, to have the boy she likes ask her out on a date, and she’s clearly willing to stack the chips however she has to to ensure that the words “will you go out with me?” come out of my miniscule mouth, no matter the actual circumstances.  It’s another terrifying reminder that the girl is just old enough to get a driver’s license.

                “Well…” I start slowly, milking it.  She’s getting so much joy out of these moments of waiting silence, I have to milk it for all it’s worth.

                “Yes, Jack?” she says, now unable to contain her smile.  Her fingers curl inward a little, almost protectively, but they don’t close around me.  I decide I better look official for the next part.

                I grab onto a fingertip for support and stagger to my feet, then look her confidently in the eyes.

                “I was just wondering…” I continue.  Her eyes glisten.  I almost want to laugh at how simple this is becoming.

                “Hmm?” she says.

                “If you would like…”

                “Yes?”

                “…to go out on a date with me?” I say, sounding bashful but happy at the same time, probably the perfect combination.  I’m so good at disguising my voice I could kiss myself.  I literally want to puke at all the sucking up I’m doing right now, but it’s so worth it to see the effect it’s having.

                I really didn’t think it possible, but her face actually manages to get happier and glow a little more, her smile getting a little wider.  Her nostrils flare.  Her eyes sparkle.  If she was any happier she’d probably be having an orgasm.  And honestly, for all I know, she’s having one right now, because she’s also vibrating a little.  Hopefully just from excitement and thrill.  God, I better push that thought out of my mind, I’m sick enough already with myself.

                “Jack…” she says, feigning shock as if I just said something promiscuous.  As if I had just asked her that out of the blue of my own free will.  “I would LOVE to go on a date with you!”

                I almost want to laugh again.  This is the most ridiculous situation I could possibly conceive that could take place between a (for lack of a truthful word) “couple.”  You hear about people ending up together that randomly met on a subway, like maybe the guy spilled his coffee all over the girl, or maybe she hit his car and waited around to pay the bill and they ended up together.  You know, things like that.  Weird stuff that makes people think “wow, okay, it works for them but that sounds a little unbelievable” but the person secretly wishes they could have the same experience.  Well, I had just gone through the weirdest one in history.

                For all intents and purposes, Julia is now my girlfriend.  My big, beautiful, smooth-talking, 150 foot tall, crazy, murderous, evil girlfriend.  But hey, besides the fact that I’m small enough for her to pick up with two fingers and squish like a roach, is she really that different from any of ‘em?

                “Um… well, great!” I say, putting on a huge grin.  Lord, I hope this is over soon.

                She tones down the insane smiling and glowing coming off her face, but her eyes remained completely locked to mine, glistening.  Her teeth disappear as she purses her lips into a tight smile, as if she’s trying to contain it.

                “When?” she says, almost breathlessly, as if still reeling from my shocking offer.  Wow, she really is making me go through all these motions to make her moment special.

                “I’m… not sure, when is it good for you?” I ask.  It’s occurred to me that since she’s sort of decided on herself as my teacher, parental figure, law enforcement officer, and significant other, the other aspects might leak in and tamper with her reactions to my answers.  It’s an odd thing to have to consider, but then again, Julia is flipping crazy, so I suppose it’s no stretch.

                “Oh… almost any time.  I’ll be busy with school tomorrow for most of the day, and…” she says, and her teeth break free from the prison of her lips, shining at me, almost blinding me.  “…so will you, mister, getting ready for the AUDITION tomorrow, but…”

                “…after the audition?” I say hopefully, wondering if I can win some points for actually throwing my answer out there to make it look like I give a shit when our date is.

                “That sounds GREAT!  I’ll make a private dinner for us…” she says, and from the look in her eyes, I can already see her piecing together her dream date.  I highly doubt I’ll have any say in what actually occurs during the date.  But hey, we’re moving right along.  I’m eager to end this so I can catch the others up on the progress I’ve made.

                “Awesome!” I lie through my teeth.  “I’m excited!”

                She whips her hair around quickly, letting it fall over her other shoulder.  “Me too, Jack.  I’m glad you asked me.  You’re such a gentleman.  Now…” she says, and her hand suddenly cages up around me with her fingers, and I fall backward, caught against them.  Her legs swing out off the bed and she stands, raising me into the air.  She does it quickly, and I am thrown against her soft palm by the force of the air hitting me.

                “Oops… sorry, Jack.  But now I think it’s time you got some rest.  You have your big audition tomorrow, and you’ll want to look your best for our…” she says, giving off a low murmur-giggle, as if turned on by the idea. “…special night.  Now, off to bed with you!” she says, pulling the house out with the other hand and raising the cup up.  I am lowered back in, and the light goes out.

“I don’t BELIEVE it!  You did it, kid!” says Brian slapping me on the back in a half-hug.  I don’t appreciate being called “kid” but it’s nice to see this show of happiness in Brian’s normally somber demeanor and general condescension to his ten year junior, so I’ll take it.  Gina already has her arms around me in a death grip hug, and I almost am reminded of the feeling of Julia’s fingers crunching me threateningly.  It’s odd to feel so comforted by the same loss of sensation in my arms I was terrified by earlier.  Anna gave me a kiss on the forehead when she heard the news; she wants to get that baby out of here more than anything.

                After all of them clobber me with hugs and congratulations, we all quickly move into one of the “bedrooms” so I can give them the full story.  We take a seat, Gina hanging on my shoulder, Anna on Brian’s, Kelly cross-legged in front of me like a kid waiting for story time.  All of us have just had our spirits significantly lifted, and nothing’s even really been done yet; the hard work on my part is still to come.  It really doesn’t take that long to tell what happened, but they are all hanging on every word.  It’s like Christmas.

                “Wow… I just can’t believe…” starts Kelly.

                “…it happened so quickly…” finishes Anna, still in disbelief.

                “See, Jack…” says Brian knowingly.  “Maybe this is the wrong way to say this, but what the hell… TOLD you so.”

                Anna punches Brian in the shoulder.  “Ow!” says Brian in pretend pain.  “Raggin’ on the bearer of truth, eh?” he says, wrapping an arm around her.  She smiles.

                “We’re proud of you, Jack,” she says.

                “And we’ll be here for you in… whatever it is that comes next,” says Kelly, grabbing ahold of my knee and shaking it in support; she knows I’m scared, so she tries to pick careful words.

                I appreciate everything they’re saying, and I know what they’re saying is true because they all want out of this place more than anything any of us have ever wanted in our lives, and they know that the key to their survival lies in my survival.

                And the fact of the matter is: that idea scares the shit out of me better than anything Julia could do to me on her worst day.  Because I know I’d never be able to live with myself if anything happened to these four people and fifth upcoming person when they were relying on me.  And honestly, if anything did happen to them, chances are I’d be up on the chopping block next, so I honestly wouldn’t have to live with myself for long.

                We chat a little more, the girls packing on etiquette and things to remember for the date, possibly things I might want to say to keep the conversation flowing and believable for Julia.  After it gets a lot later, we all agree we better get some sleep if we want to be able to function well in Julia’s beloved musical audition tomorrow.

                I lumber off to my room and take a seat at the end of my matchbox, casually rubbing at my shoulders as all the tossing around I’ve gone through today is catching up to me; from the bruising I got from being squeezed hard, to dangling upside down and having my oxygen cut off by Julia’s massive slimy tongue, to falling off her powerful leg, and being dropped a few times through her sideways cupped hand, it’s not been a (physically) pleasant day. My muscles are aching like hell, I was frankly just too happy while with the others to even notice it.  I lean back on my “matchbox” bed, looking up at the plastic ceiling, trying to shift into a comfortable position.  It’s not working, I can tell this is going to be a sort of painful night.

                After a few minutes pass, I hear footsteps in front of me.  I sit up, and of course can’t tell who it is in the dark, even though I can sort of see a form.

                “Hey,” I say casually, sitting back up, not quite sure who it is.

                “Hi, Jack,” says Gina, stepping forward.  Although it’s dark, my eyes are adjusting and I can sort of see her now that she’s standing directly in front of me.  “Are you… okay?”

                “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

                “Really?” she says, sounding worried. 

She does this an awful lot, but I don’t mind; when you have someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you in her fist in the “outside” world, it’s great to have someone who cares about you “inside.”  I’m not talking about the rest of the people in this house, because all of us care for each other pretty much like family now, from the time we’ve spent together.  But Gina’s different.  She’s feared for my safety a lot lately, as have I hers.  And since today I actually realized I care for Gina a little more, now that she’s standing in front of me, just the two of us, I suddenly feel little goose bumps popping up on my arms.  Thank God it’s dark so she can’t see them.

“Yeah, really…” I say, and leaning forward I inadvertently make a cracking noise somewhere in my left shoulder blade.  It’s pretty damn sore.  I involuntarily make a little grunting sound but cover it with a cough.  In the dark, I see her form quickly move to the matchbox, which sags a little as she takes a seat on it.

“It doesn’t sound like it…” she says.  I’m about to protest, but a moment later I feel her hands on my shoulders, kneading them.  Her hands are warm and her fingers seem to know where to go to make it feel a little better, so I just go with it; it feels damn good, and I think I can afford a feeling like that right about now.

“Feeling any better yet?” she says after a couple silent minutes.  Her hands work over my shoulders, then slowly move to my shoulder blades, where the real soreness is.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, perhaps more creepily sounding than I meant.  We both chuckle.  “Well, you know what I mean… in the non-predatory way, yes,” I clarify, and she chuckles again.  She’s apparently very practiced at this; her fingers knead with speed but the right amount of pressure to help alleviate the stress.  “Where did you learn to…”

“…back rubs?  It was my mom, she owns a beauty shop and they give these to the customers, in the summers she’d let me come in to work to get some extra money, I learned pretty quickly how to do it from her,” she answers, continuing on past my shoulder blades and down to the midsection of my back.  “I was… trying to earn money for… a car,” she says, her voice going distant a little.  She laughs again, almost in a snorting way.  “Funny… I had one picked out, I knew what I was getting for myself.  I’ll bet… I’ll bet someone’s already picked it out…” she says, and I can tell she’s reminiscing about the past.  To ensure she doesn’t drown too deep in the memories we all experience and want desperately again, I chime in.

“… and you’ll get another one when we get out.  I’ll help you pick one out,” I tell her confidently.

“Thank you,” she says, snapping out of it.  “I’d like that.”

“It’ll be soon.  Trust me.  Once I can get her to…” I start, but even though I can’t see Gina’s face, I know it makes her uncomfortable to hear me mention the plan with Julia.  She hates it just as much as I hate having to look Julia in the gigantic face and tell her I have a crush on her; she has to watch the guy she likes being lifted up like a little Ken doll into the unmerciful hands of an angry goddess for a dinner date tomorrow night.  “Well, you know.  It’ll be soon,” I conclude.

“Jack…” says Gina, and I can already tell she wants to try and protest the plan again.

“I’m sorry Gina, but it has to happen…” I start.

“NO, Jack, it doesn’t,” she says more forcefully, almost as if talking to a little kid. 

People seem to be doing that to me a lot lately.

“There’s no other way, Gina.  We have to think about this right.  We have to be smart.  It’s the safest thing for everyone.”

“Except you.”

I sigh.  “Look, Gina, I’m safe.  I might be safer than all of you, you know.  As long as I play my cards right, I’m in the clear for almost anything.”

“But… but after today, after what she did.  She…” begins Gina.  “…LIKES you, and she almost, well, you know, DID it to you today…”

She’s one hundred percent correct, but neither of us wants to ponder that little fact, so I keep it going.

“That won’t happen again.  I just stay in line, feed her what she wants to hear, get the right moment for long enough, and… we’re out of here.  Probably sooner than you think.  It’s foolproof, failsafe.  Nothing to lose if we just stick to the plan.”

Gina sighs now, her fingers reaching my lower back and working in deep.  “I just… I can’t WATCH her when she’s… got you… in her hand.  I mean, I know you say you’re okay with heights, and I believe you and everything, but just… to see her holding you up there in the air like… like you’re hers, like you’re just a toy to her… it’s not… it’s not right,” she says, her voice straining.

“Hey… it’s okay.  I’m okay.  I know she won’t hurt me if I just keep it up…” I say.  Gina works out the final kink in my back, and it’s already feeling a lot better, the soreness still there but it’s bearable.  I lean forward, and my bruised abs protest.  Another grunt.  I’m literally embarrassing myself here with how fragile I apparently am.

“Oh, for God’s sake… okay, lean back,” says Gina.

“What?” I say, not getting it at first.

“Lean back,” she orders, grabbing my shoulders and pulling down.  I lay down with my head in her lap, resting in the space between her thighs.  It’s very relaxing, and I could almost fall asleep right here if it wouldn’t be so mind-bogglingly embarrassing to do that in front of her.

Her fingers get ahold of my abs and obliques and start to work into them.  They can’t do as much here since it’s mostly bruising, but it feels good nonetheless to feel her warm hands sliding over my cold abdomen.

“Jack, she’s right… you are getting thinner.  You really do need to eat more, if this keeps getting worse, you need… SOMETHING on your bones to protect you,” says Gina sternly, continuing to work.

                “Okay, okay, fine, I will.  You sound a little like Stella did,” I say jokingly.  Stella was one of my foster moms who meant well but was extremely pushy, and I’ve told Gina all about her.

                Gina lets go of my abs and brings her hand to my face, where she slaps one of my cheeks gently in a joking way without saying a word before continuing to work my abs and sides.  She finishes it out, then leans over and looks me in the face.

                “Just… be careful tomorrow, okay?” she says.  Her hands move to my hair and run through it, soothing my cold head.  I wish she could sit here all night and do this, but I know she needs sleep too.

                “I will,” I say knowingly.  I hope to God I am, for all our sakes.

                She slides her fingers through my hair a few more times, then finally lifts her legs out from under me, her warm thigh brushing against my face, and slides off the bed.  She ruffles my hair one more time before stepping quietly out of the room, leaving me on the matchbox where I can finally sleep peacefully and almost painlessly.

“Good MORNING, everyone!” comes the massive booming sound from the already opened roof.  We’re not going out by cup this morning.  It must be a special occasion.  My special occasion, as it happens. 

                And it’s only Tuesday…

                We all hide behind the wall to change into our fresh clothes, then step around the corner and look up to see the beaming face of Julia, already dressed for school in a jean jacket and purple skirt hanging over her shoulder by lacy straps.  Her hair looks very straight this morning, as if she got up early to do it herself.  It’s starting already.

                Instantly, of course, her eyes go to me and she smiles even bigger but then her gaze quickly shifts over everyone else, and the grin continues.  Maybe today won’t suck so much if this is able to continue a while longer.

                As usual, we are lifted out one by one, today by hand, and placed on the table outside the closet.  As Julia reaches for me, her tongue pokes outside her mouth, not in a licking kind of way, but almost in a greedy, thoughtful way.  She wiggles her fingers playfully in midair, taunting me in a joking way as they approach.  She takes longer than normal to grab me, as if trying to make me think she cares enough to take the time to safely pick me up.  Her ring finger snakes around my feet first, curling in and tightening like a boa constrictor.  Next comes her middle finger, getting the rest of my legs, and finally her pointer finger wrapping around my abdomen before laying her thumb across it all, covering my chest and neck.  She grips me a little higher than normal, only letting my head poke out from her fist, my body immobilized inside her fist.  She takes me into the air and close to her face.

                “Ready for tonight?” she says, grinning ear-to-ear.

                “You bet!” I say with all the excitement I can muster without sounding like a tool and letting on that something’s up.

                “Me too, Jack.  I hope you won’t be too nervous, because trust me, I’ll be nervous tonight.  We should just try to have fun, okay, Jack?  I wouldn’t want anything to spoil it, so just… be the nice little guy I know you are and you’ll do great, okay?” she says sweetly, as if giving me a pep talk.  It’s a little surreal to have your date giving you advice on how to date correctly.

                “Absolutely, Julia,” I answer, smiling.

                “Great.  Enjoy your breakfast, you need to get strong,” she says, giving me a little squeeze before placing me on the table.

                It’s a little clump of scrambled egg.  Julia must really be in a good mood.  I sit down and get to eating with the others, who have already started.  We eat in silence as Julia packs up some things in her room from her desk.  Breakfast finishes, Julia brings to the table our little music sheets to study, then places us each back in the house, not talking to us individually again but giving me my standard little squeeze hug.  It honestly hurts my sides, which still ache a little from the bruising she gave me yesterday, but I figure that’s not the sort of thing I want to complain about.

                “All right, class, study hard today!  I’ll be back after school is over.  Love you all!” she says, sounding more cheerful than we’ve ever heard her.  Normally she’s happy, but today she’s just beaming.  She places a little stack of cold cuts in the house: turkey, ham and cheese, probably no more than a couple bites worth for her, but it’s plenty for us, and honestly looks pretty good compared to the normal school day lunches we get from her.  The light stays on but the roof closes followed by the earthquake shift of the house being pushed back into the closet, and the slammed doors after that.

                We spend the day a little like we did yesterday, except with drastically higher spirits.  The girls continue to coach me on how to act perfectly at the date, and we all spend part of the time improving ourselves at the music.  Humorously, we know we’re not really auditioning: Julia clearly has parts all thought out for us.  I’m going to be the lead, Gina’s going to be my love interest, Anna and Brian will be one set of parents, Kelly will be a mother and… we’re not sure about the last spot.  One thought is that Brian will fill both roles.

                Or, as it has occurred to us, Julia just might pick up a new resident to fill the role.  This musical is important to her, and seeing as all it really took for her to grab each of us up was apparently boredom and a desire to have a little farm of powerless human dolls, it’s very likely she’ll pick up a new cast member, possibly today.  All we can do is pray for every male human being Julia comes into contact with in the next few days, because she just might be silently judging candidates to add to her toy box.  Nothing we can do about it, of course.  And if she does bring a new one, our only hope will be to try and assimilate him quickly so he doesn’t turn into another Jim.

                We’re all getting better.  Gina’s actually pretty good at singing when she’s not being forced to imitate a bird on Julia’s threatening and expectant pointer finger.  With any luck, we’ll be able to satisfy the hasty demands set out by Julia on this damn thing.

                The afternoon comes quickly, and before we know it we’re being dragged out into Julia’s room and the cup is being dropped in.  Today, Julia doesn’t say anything to us, but gets straight to work, having us hop in the school bus from the eating table for the trip to the classroom.  Probably wants to save time for auditions and for preparing for our big night of passion and romance. 

                Oh, she wishes…

                I take a plastic seat next to Gina, who looks considerably happier from yesterday, her face much more full of color.  I put an arm around her and she returns the favor, just as we look up to see a massive pointer finger snaking inside the window and settling on the ceiling as Julia lifts us up.  It’s a bumpy ride, and I can see the finger flexing, becoming pale as it has to adjust the pressure on that spot of the bus, but we’re dropped off at the classroom seconds later.

                Class is uneventful today.  Everyone is on their best behavior in hopes of keeping Julia happy until the date so I can work my Thespian magic, so no punishments of any kind are doled out.  The work is completed quickly and correctly.

                “I must say, class, I’m impressed with your performance today,” says Julia, leaning back in her chair as we clean up the classroom at the conclusion.  “Keep this up and there may be a treat in it for you next time,” she says, winking.  Don’t really know or care what Julia could possibly believe constitutes a “treat” for us.

                “But NOW,” she says, the grin returning as she claps her hands lightly to get our attention.  “It’s time for the moment you’ve all been waiting for.  Auditions for Heartfelt are ready to start as soon as you get the classroom picked up.  Give me a minute,” she says, stepping away from the desk and over to a bookshelf, where she removes a notepad and pen.  She returns, crossing a leg and resting her chin on her fist.  “Okay, here’s how this will work: you’ll take turns coming up.  You’ll sing the audition song a cappella, and then when we’re done I’ll have you all read some dialogue off the computer screen,” she says, clicking a link at the bottom of the screen that makes several lines of character dialogue pop up.  “Don’t be nervous; just do your best.  Everyone will get a part, of course, since we have a small class.”

                What a disgustingly sad pun.  I’m glad she has the decency to not laugh when she says “small class.”

The singing goes fine.  We just step to the edge of the desk so Julia can get a better look at us.  She makes no verbal comments, but starts madly scribbling into her notebook, as if she didn’t already have all the parts doled out in her mind.  Julia gives me an extra little grin after I finish my version of the song.  The dialogue goes similarly.  It’s some random gibberish crap about the two lovers saying they have to be together somehow. 

                Julia’s strong suit is definitely not writing.  Personally, if I was her career counselor, I’d tell her to scrap musical composition and join a target grabbing team in the CIA.

                We pull it off fine as well; none of us really want to do it so we don’t exactly throw ourselves into the part with insane drama, but we try enough so that Julia won’t think we’re skimping on her.

                About thirty minutes later, the irritating ordeal is over.  It’ll be even more fun to have to do this in a darkened room in a little costume Julia’s no doubt going to make for me on the end of the desk, with Julia’s huge beaming face as the only audience member, fantasizing that I’m singing the lyrics to her. 

                Ugh.  Why me?

                Once the music is put away, Julia leans back in her chair, nodding her head slowly before clapping for us.

                “I’m VERY impressed, everyone.  I didn’t know I had a little group of musicians and actors here, we’ll have to try this a little more often, won’t we?”

                We all nod or make some sort of noise of approval.  I want to gag at the idea.

                “Now, TONIGHT, I’m going to be giving you some extra free time, and dinner will be in the house today.  And bath time will be early tonight, before dinner.  Sound good?” she says.

                She asks it as if denying the goodness of her decision was an option.  We all nod and approve, again.

                We load up in the bus.  A second later, as usual, the illusion of being in a motor vehicle is shattered by the massive fingers snaking in the windows and taking on the light weight of the plastic toy.  The rush of going up in that thing is hard to get used to, it’s sort of similar to that one theme park ride where you get strapped in to the ring and shoot up the pole at insane speeds. 

                I never liked that ride much…

                The bus approaches the closet door.  Outside my plastic framed window, the massive fold of Julia’s jean jacket swings around in the breeze, occasionally covering up my window as it accidentally bumps against her side.  We reach the closet, and Julia’s other hand, at a distance of what seems like fifty feet at least, twists open the closet door, revealing the house, which she drags out with ease.  However, before the bus is set down on the table, Julia, hesitates.  Her fingers curl inward as she lifts the bus even higher than waist level and up to her face, where she turns it to face her.  We can see her eyes through the front windshield before she pulls it back a little.

                She bites one side of her lip in thought.  “Poor babies.  You almost get cooped up in there, don’t you?” she says.

                We’re taken back a little bit.  To be perfectly honest, the house doesn’t bother us that much, because it’s the one place we can be to talk freely about our feelings without fear of repercussion; however, from the way she said that, it seems the correct answer is, “yes, we are cooped up.”

                All of us look at each other questioningly before nodding slowly, praying that this IS the correct answer.  Who knows, maybe being in a relationship with someone has given Julia a less sadistic approach to life and her handling of other lives she has control of.

                She nods, brushing her hair out of her face quickly before disappearing from view.  The bottom of the bus vibrates for a second; she seems to be resting it on her other hand for extra support.  “That’s what I thought.  I’m sorry that we have to do that, it’s just for your own safety, you know.  It’s my job to keep all of you safe, and one way I make sure I do that is by making sure you don’t have the chance to hurt yourselves.”

                We nod.

                “But I’ll tell you what,” she says a bit playfully.  “I’m in a pretty good mood.  Who wants to do something fun instead of going back in the house?”

                Again, we look at each other, questioning silently.  Does “fun” really mean fun, or does fun mean pretending to be dolls?  I’m guessing it’s the humiliating latter, but again, there is evidently a correct answer.  We all nod readily at her.  She smiles.

                “GREAT.  Okay, let’s have some fun.  Should we play a game?”

                Nods.

                “I think so too.  But what game?  Does anyone have any ideas?”

                Wow, that’s a new one.  Actually putting the choice in our hands, to an extent.  She obviously has extensive veto power still.

                Kelly raises her hand.  We are still students right now, after all.

                Julia nods.  “Yes, Kelly?”

                Kelly clears her throat.  “How about we play with a stuffed animal?” she asks.

                Smart choice.  We’ve done that before, and it’s hardly a game, but it tends to entail the least risk for personal injury.

                Julia’s head tilts. “Hmmm… no, I don’t think I want to play that game.  Any other ideas?”

                My hand goes up.  The nod of approval to speak from Julia.

                “Checkers?” I say.  This is probably the second safest thing, since it doesn’t really require us to move outside of pushing our team’s pieces around on the board.

                “Ohh, no.  I don’t think so, Jack.  C’mon, everyone, no one wants to be creative?”

                We all give some neutral version of “yes, we do want to be creative.”

                “Well, okay, then…” she says, clearly disappointed (but not angry) at me failing to pick one of her made-up or sort of dangerous games.  So much for letting us choose the game.  “I have a good idea.  I’ll get the other buildings out, and we can play with those, okay?  Let’s try it.”

                She doesn’t even wait for our formal approval.  She lowers the bus to waist level and walks to her large room’s other closet.  As I said, her parents are loaded, so it’s really a spacious room.  The second closet I’ve seen quite a few times over the last two years, since this is where she keeps her massive collection of doll stuff.  She probably got most of when she was a lot younger, and then just let it sit in there; most of it is falling apart.  However, I’d be willing to be that once she got ahold of all of us, it occurred to her how fun it might be to stick us in there and let her pretend she has her own little city with life in it, so now every few weeks or so, it gets dragged out and put to use.

                I have no idea what scenario we might be forced to play out today.  A hospital, an office building, a train, an airport, a magic castle, a race track… she’s got it all, and forced us to try it all no less.

                The bus drops to the carpeted ground.  We rarely are down here, so it’s a little weird for us.  I peek out the window and see Julia for the true skyscraper that she is, all the way up there.  Her green butterfly socks twist around on the carpet, looking powerful enough to snap off the sides of our plastic box with them.  Realistically speaking, her foot is wider than I am tall, and more than three times longer.  The damn things are like armored vehicles of muscle and flesh; they have to be to carry that mountain of girl standing on them.  I thank Jesus she’s never used them to incur her wrath on us for breaking a rule, and I dread the day she does.  Squeezing us a little in her hands gives us bruising, but it’s controllable.  If it ever occurred to her to tuck us comfortably under her humongous, overly warm soles and just press a little to scare us, she could so easily burst our vital organs and end it right there without meaning to.  I shudder at the thought of getting out of the bus and being within crushing range of those massive harbingers of messy doom, even when she’s fully aware of my position on the floor.  The thought of being liquefied against the wrinkled skin of Julia’s heel sends a cold shiver down my spine.    Since they’re so difficult to control in relation to using her hands as punishers, in my mind her feet are practically like chained up wild animals only partially under the command of Julia.

Julia twists the handle on the bigger closet, flips the light, and begins dragging out little play buildings.  These are meant to form a fake little city block, complete with fake plastic lamp posts, trash cans, and cars.  She conveniently places these around the bus, as if we had parked on the street.  She also makes a point of positioning buildings tightly together so that we can’t get around them, and when we can there’s little wooden fencing around the perimeter Julia was kind enough to build just for us, for playtime such as this.  She’s also built a variety of little tables, chairs, desks, and other furniture to fill up the buildings.  She’s trying to make a freaking virtual world for us. 

But hey, at least she cares.  Damn it all the hell.

                We’ve learned the rules, we can’t get out of the bus until given permission, although there’s really no chance of escaping across the carpet.  There’s nowhere to go and Julia would be on us within seconds, but just as a precaution she makes it clear we can’t get out until we get the okay.  Brian started to once, but Julia flicked him back inside the bus with a stinging middle finger before he could even get down the bus steps, and he had a red mark on his chest for three days after that.  We tend to just go by his example and not try it.

                “Okay, everyone!  It’s time to enter Littleville!” calls Julia sweetly to us from outside the range of her little neighborhood.  We obediently dismount the bus and step onto the carpet.  In reality, the city itself is probably about twelve or so square feet in total, but for us it’s actually a decent amount of space to walk around, so despite the humiliating name of the town, the best thing about these little play-dates with Julia in her virtual world is that we actually have the most space to walk around than we do any other time.  And since she really only occupies herself with two or three of us at a time (mostly), the rest of us can just walk around and pretend we have a little bit of freedom of range.

                Now with all of us standing in the street, we look over a building top to see Julia, now in a kneeling position to get a good look at us without forcing us to strain our necks to see her face up there.

                “Okay, I have the hospital over here in this corner,” she says, pointing to it.  It’s pretty clear though, it’s plainly got the symbol on the front.  “Let’s see, I want to use…” she says, biting her lip as she decides which of us she wants to participate in this particular part of the game.  “Brian and Kelly.  C’mon over to the hospital.  The rest of you can play together if you want, but be ready if I want you, okay?”

                We all nod, and Brian and Kelly walk off toward the hospital between a couple rows of plastic buildings.  Gina, Anna, and I have free run of the place for a few minutes at least.  One thing’s for sure: we want out of sight of Julia, so the three of us enter a pretend little grocery store.  Going through the door’s sort of pointless since the entire back wall is missing so kids can stick dolls and furniture inside wherever they please, but it’s fun for us to have to open and close a door. 

                It almost feels normal again.

                We enter and take a seat on the plastic floor, under the glassless window of equally plastic nature, out of sight from Julia two blocks away.  We hear Julia giving orders for what’s happening in whatever made-up story she’s concocted for them.

                Really how this works once we’re in the scene is that Julia starts narrating what’s going on like the omniscient evil goddess she is, and we have to sort of follow along.  She often gets smiles and laughs out of what happens, and mostly because we are forced to do some, best case scenario, kind of humiliating things.  Worst case scenario, we come pretty close to personal injury, if not actually getting a little.  I’ve twisted both my ankles before.  Brian almost broke an arm.  Julia tends to be a little rougher with the guys; she probably is under the impression that we’re not as fragile as the girls, even at this size.  I’d like to say that’s true, for the benefit of my health, but honestly she could snap us in half just as easily as the girls, especially since I’ve lost a lot of weight recently.

                We picked to hide in the grocery, mostly because Julia will eventually come find us and probably integrate wherever we happen to be standing into whatever story she comes up with.  The grocery store seems safest.

                There’s not much for us to actually do here.  I look over at Anna, who’s looking a little sickly.

                “You okay?” I ask stupidly, knowing the correct answer already.

                “I… I think so…” she says, holding her stomach.  “It’s not the baby, it’s just… in my throat right now, it feels thick.”

                “Are you going to be sick?  Do you need help?” I say, not really sure of what I should be doing.  She waves a hand.

                “No, no, it’s fine… I’ll be okay, I just need a second to get ahold of myse-”

                “Well, THERE you three are!” comes the booming voice of Julia, cutting off the soft whisper of Anna. 

Julia’s face comes into view over a small plastic house right by the border, so we’re well within range of her to use this building.

                “Are you ready to play?” she says expectantly, rubbing her hands together excitedly.  We all nod.

                “Good.  Okay.  Here goes,” she says, clearing her throat.  “JACK…” she begins, looking at me.  “Was working at the grocery store.”  I stand up and take a place behind the counter, wanting to avoid argument.  “ANNA was shopping for dinner, and GINA was cleaning the grocery,” she continues as the other two take their intended positions.  So far, so good.  Maybe we’ll get through this one okay.  It’s just a grocery store, after all…

                “When SUDDENLY…” she says, a gleam in her eye.  “…they heard a loud noise!  And the ground SHOOK!”  With little warning, we all grab for something to hang onto as Julia slams the ground outside the neighborhood hard with the heel of her hand.  Luckily, Anna managed to grab something, but Gina and I both hit the ground hard.  I don’t like where this is going.

                “And it shook AGAIN!  And AGAIN!”

                This time we’re prepared, and I stare over at Julia’s shoulder, slamming downward on the carpet with little force, but enough to send us falling on our asses.  A second passes, and she stands up, darting to the big closet again before returning with something behind her back.

                “And then they SAW it!” she says, revealing what she’s got behind her back.  It’s a big stuffed gorilla, really just a standard stuffed animal size, but it might as well be King Kong right now.  She plops it in the street outside the grocery, her arm reaching in as far as it can so she can control the gorilla’s movement.  “It was a giant gorilla, coming RIGHT toward them.”

                Julia clears her throat, telling us we should be doing something.  Anna, Gina, and I all make a gasping sound, looking toward the window.  As we do, Julia’s arm rushes forward and smashes the gorilla into the building, and for a second it looks like the entire building is going to teeter over.  This time, all of us fall over and roll back a little distance before standing back up.

                Julia withdraws her hand for a second, and we hear a tearing sound, followed by the return of her hand.  I turn to look at Gina, who looks a little terrified.  I look over my shoulder and see Julia’s hand, a piece of duct tape stuck to her pinky finger, reaching in to the grocery store.  I stagger back instinctively at the sight of something coming my way, but it instead sweeps over me, and Julia’s fingers wrap around Gina. 

                Damn it, Julia, leave her alone.

                Gina tries to look calm, closing her eyes and just letting it happen.  Then, Julia grabs the gorilla up with the other hand.  I turn and look up.  Julia winds the tape around Gina’s body several times, binding her arms to the side in a defenseless position before tugging on the end with a little snap.  I hear Gina yelp quietly as it crunches lightly around her sides. 

                I literally want to kill this giant bitch right now.

                Then, using an exposed sticky side to the tape, she wraps Gina’s completely powerless form into the left arm of the stuffed animal.  At least I can know she’ll have cushioning if Julia tries anything else.  A moment later the gorilla is back in the street with Gina poking out from under one of its arms.

                “But GINA got too close to it and now the giant gorilla has her!  Oh no, what’s going to happen to her?” she says, feigning fear.  I decide I might as well be part of the story to make Julia happier and in the process try to shorten the time Gina has to stay hanging from that thing, so I stride confidently out the door.

                “I’ll SAVE you, Gina!” I yell out bravely, in line with the style of narration being done by Julia.  I just know she’s smiling a mile wide at my voluntary self-inclusion in the story.  Gina herself smiles weakly at me but is probably pretty uncomfortable in her current position.

                “Ooooh, here comes Jack to save Gina!  But can he do anything to stop the gorilla?” says Julia gleefully.  Her hand returns to the gorilla and grabs it up.  I go into a crouching position to be prepared for whatever happens, but I’m still not ready.  Julia slams the fluffy mass of the gorilla into me, knocking me back a few feet.  I roll over backward, but go into a standing position pretty easily.  I’m feeling alert right now in desire to get Gina out of that tape.

                “Looks like the gorilla doesn’t LIKE Jack!  What’s he going to do?” continues Julia happily.  I step forward, closer to the gorilla and try to smile at Gina, who looks worried after the body slam I just got from a toy.

                “It’s all good,” I whisper to Gina.  She nods at me.

                “Hmmm…” says Julia.  “I’d think GINA would be scared if she had been caught by a giant gorilla.  You don’t sound scared, Gina,” she says, almost accusingly.

                Gina swallows hard, then starts making a pretend waling sound.  It seems to satisfy Julia.

                “And now she’s SCREAMING for her life.  Oh, can Jack do anything to save her?”

                I move forward and actually manage to grab onto the gorilla’s foot before Julia swings it outward, trying to knock me off.  However, I clench on as hard as I can, and swing my legs up to get a better grip; I manage to hang on.

                “Jack is DETERMINED.  Maybe he can stop the gorilla!”

                Hanging on and trying to get into a better position before Julia tries to knock me off again, I climb onto the leg of the gorilla, now in reaching distance of Gina, who’s attached to the arm of the thing just above me.  I reach up and grab onto the arm of the gorilla, but it starts to sag as I do, making it hard to pull myself up.  I gulp, but then see a possibility.  I yank on the arm of the gorilla hard this time, allowing it to sag even lower.  While it’s down, I come in reach of the tape edge.

                It seems Julia’s not quite done with the game.  “But what’s THIS?  The gorilla is mad, and… oh no!  It can FLY!” she says quickly, and suddenly I find myself hugging my body into the gorilla’s leg as hard as I can as Julia rockets us into the air above the little city.  I open my eyes, looking to my left.  Julia is dangling the gorilla at eye level, grinning ear to ear at me.  “Can Jack do it?  Can he save Gina?” she booms, smiling some more at me.

                I try not to look down.  Then, slowly getting my bearings, I reach back up and yank down on the arm, using it for support, and the tape edge comes into reach.  I grab on and rip on it as hard as I can, allowing Gina to get free.  “Grab onto its stomach,” I say.  She nods, hanging on as the tape comes undone and she flops down against it.  Before she is able to slip off the side, I quickly offer a hand and she takes it, squeezing the life out of it in fear of being this high in the air.

                Using the tape, I try to secure us to the leg of the gorilla.  I look to my left at Julia’s face.

                “I did it!  I saved her!” I call out optimistically, praying this story is over.  Julia shakes her head no.

                “I don’t think so yet!  Look how high up you are still.  I’d watch out if I were you, because the gorilla…” she begins, tipping the gorilla to the side.  “… is still pretty mad at both of you!”

                Gina clasps her hand around my bicep, locking her arm around me in a twist for extra support.  With my other arm, I try to hang on to the tape, but it’s not enough to keep us up.  The edge of the tape slips off the edge, and with it go the pair of us.

                I look down at Gina, hanging on with both arms to my one arm, my other hand, sweating in fear, stuck to the tape; it’s the only reason we haven’t fallen already.  It’s putting an awful strain on my whole body, though.  Suddenly, I feel Gina’s sweaty hands slipping down my arm.

                “GET MY LEG!” I yell down at her, and with a second remaining Gina switches her grip to my ankles, wrapping her arms around them and closing her eyes.  I can hear her breathing heavily.

                I look over to my left at Julia, who’s looking perfectly calm.  Good God. 

                What kind of person is this?

                “Help us… please?” I say, wrapping my other arm around the tape strip for extra support.  It won’t last forever, though.

                “What?” says Julia, as if she didn’t hear me.

                “HELP US!”

                As I say this, I feel Gina’s arms slip off my ankles. 

                I look down in horror, but feel my lungs catch themselves in my chest at the sight of Julia’s other hand shooting out.  Gina lands squarely in her palm, which quickly closes around her to prevent her from falling.  That couldn’t have been comfortable, and I’m sure Gina’s heart is racing like mad, but at least she’s safe.

                I, on the other hand, still face a drop of approximately 15 stories.  Excellent.

                As I continue to hang on, and look over at Julia’s unchanged, stoic face, I try to work it through logically.  I know that when I fall in the next few seconds, there is a 99% likelihood that I’ll be caught in the firm palm of Julia before being cradled by her fingers, completely safe from the drop.  That’s a fact, and I know there’s really no chance of falling.

                And yet, dangling here, I know that I’m being expected to drop and just let Julia catch me.  But I literally can’t will myself to voluntarily let go and drop the ten feet or so (relatively) before being caught, because really all I see is the equivalent of skydiving without a parachute.

                “Let go, Jack,” whispers Julia finally, still watching me contently, as if watching paint dry.

                “Uh-uh-okay!” I say, and try to let go, but I can’t.  My mind won’t allow it.

                “Just do it, Jack.  It’s okay.  I’ll catch you,” she says.  I look down.  With the hang holding Gina, she uses a finger to prop open her jean jacket pocket, and plops Gina right into it, freeing up her hand for me.  But she doesn’t flatten it, palm side up, so I can land nicely in it.  She still wants me to look down at the drop and just go.  “I’ll catch you, Jack.  You’re all right.  I won’t let you get hurt.  Just do it.  Let go.”

                And I finally do; I want to puke as I look down, but I don’t even fall for a millisecond before I’m in Julia’s hand cage, her fingers closing up as soon as I’m safely on board.  She raises her hand up to her face.

                “See, not so bad, is it?” she says, finally smiling again as she opens her hand a little so she can see me.  I go into a kneeling position, still a little dizzy.  I almost fall, but manage to grab onto her pinky for support.

                “Yeah, I guess you’re right!” I say optimistically.  Don’t need anything putting a damper on the mood for our date.

                “Good, I’m glad.  I wasn’t sure if you were going to let go there for a second, but… you did, because you’re a good little boy.  And good little boys like you get rewarded, so that’s why I caught you.  That make sense?” she says.  I shudder, wondering if she’s kidding about deciding whether to catch me if I let go voluntarily or not.

                “Yeah, it does!” I say.  She nods.

                “Good.  Do you want to take a break for a second?” she answers, closing her fingers back up around me. 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.  Hmm… oh, I know!” she says.  I am lowered down to above waist level, at the pocket opposite the side Gina’s in.  She uses her pinky to lift the flap, then tips her hand at a slight diagonal angle.  I roll straight in off her fingers, landing with a little thud in the denim pouch, my body slamming into the fabric lined form of her side.  As I reorient myself, I try to stand but realize quickly this is impossible, so I just sit.  I actually have a decent amount of space, despite the claustrophobic atmosphere.  My heart skips a beat as I see the outer part of the pocket caving in for a moment, until I see the distinct, pillar-like shape of four forms pressing in on it.  It caves in until her fingers feel me.  They pat twice gently on me before receding.

With the flap of the pocket closed, I actually can’t hear anything.  Hell, I can barely see anything besides the blue denim-tinted light streaming through the microscopic holes of the fabric.  It feels like another 10 minutes of being in here, though, before there’s a lot of shuffling up and down.  Eventually, a massive, muscular form starts coming up under my butt, then lowering again and allowing the pocket to hang.  It’s Julia’s leg; she’s squatting down to pick up and put away the town.  I breathe a sigh of relief.  We made it through another one.

Eventually the flap opens and the fingers slide down the side of the pocket, looking for me.  Her fingertips tap a spot just above my head before moving down and tapping again, bumping me in the chest.  Having found me, her fingers reposition and I’m taken up into a soft fist.  It’s odd to imagine the sheer terror that would have filled my mind at this sight two short years ago, but now I just sort of see it and expect it.  Like oxygen flowing in the air.

Bath time is soon after.  Julia seems to rush us a little more than usual.  With that done, Julia places us on the table for transport back inside the doll house.

“I hope you all had fun during play time, but now it’s time for dinner and then bed immediately afterward.  So here you go…” she says, placing a single ravioli inside the doll house opening.  “Now, I’ll say good night to…” she says, her eyes sweeping over me, “ …most of you, and I hope you all have a good sleep.”

She places everyone back inside, me last.  With me back in her palm, she reaches into her skirt pocket with the other hand and retrieves something: a folded up pile of clothes, pinched between two of her fingers.  She brings them near me.

“Here you go, Jack.  Just something special for tonight so you’ll look your best,” she says, winking and smiling at me.  I take them, and her fingers release the pressure on them.

“Thanks!” I say, trying to sound excited.

“You’re welcome!  Now, get dressed.  I’ll be back in an hour, little guy,” she coos, giving me a squeeze.  She deposits me in the cup and down I go.

                “Just relax.  Breathe, Jack.  It’s going to be okay,” whispers Gina in my ear, her arm around my shoulder to try to slow down my nervous shivering.  I look down at myself, dressed in the tiny doll clothes formal wear set Julia gave to me to wear, and anxiously pluck at the edges of the shirt, trying to straighten them.  As if that would make any difference.

                “Just focus man, focus.  This is the beginning.  Of… everything.  Of how we’re finally going to stop her.  You’ve got this,” says Brian confidently, patting me on the back as I slowly walk toward the place in the plastic doll house where the elevator cup will be lowered by my giant date for the evening, waiting to raise me up to what will undoubtedly be one of the most nerve-wracking events of my life.  As Brian said, this is, indeed, the beginning.  And if I screw up that beginning tonight, and doom one or all of us as a result, I’ll get to go down with the knowledge that it was all my fault for not being strong enough or not doing what was necessary because of some lingering fears in my mind.

                “Don’t worry.  Don’t think too much.  Just be you,” smiles Gina, as if she just read my mind.  Gently, she pushes me forward, and I step closer just as the cup is lowered down, hitting the base of the plastic floor with a threateningly soft clack.  I turn around sheepishly and look at my four best friends in the world, who all smile encouragingly at me.  There’s nothing else that needs saying right now.  I know that, right here and know, any fear I have I need to simply suck up and forget about it, for the sake of those four people behind me.  I have to do this for them.  Cautiously, I step into the cup and feel it being pulled up and out of this “safe” area.

                My heart begins to pound harder in my chest as the sight of Julia fills my vision, the cup dangling from her fingers high above.  She’s clearly been busy while I’ve been sweating out bullets down in the doll house waiting for her to come for me, like a death row prisoner patiently awaiting the executioner.

                Her hair has been straightened with a flat iron, and the sheen of it is absolutely radiant.  She grins, a glossy, sparkly light pink lipstick adorning her full lips.  Her plumped lashes seem to bat more vigorously at me, and it’s so overwhelming a sight to take in I feel the adrenaline only getting worse.  And, of course, the rest of her is clothed in what looks like a reasonably expensive prom dress with a deep blue rolling fabric and sequins, no-doubt something she got her parents to buy her for the upcoming event at the high school.  It’s like having a model on a billboard suddenly stare straight at me in some deeply carnal fashion.  Dangerous and beyond thrilling at the same time.  I can hardly breathe.

                “Hello, Jack,” she whispers slowly, the words almost slurring together as she hungrily utters them.  It’s a far cry from what I normally hear from her.  Tangentially, the thought occurs to me that Julia probably picked up this dress simply for this particular occasion right now, because I’d be willing to bet everything I have in the world that she hasn’t nor ever will want to have a boyfriend that she can’t pick up and keep in her pocket.  The potential boy wouldn’t be able to stand Julia’s insane neuroses despite her alluring cuteness, and Julia wouldn’t be able to stand her inability to literally step on her would-be significant other.

                “Hello… Julia,” I swallow hard, trying to remain calm and collected.  She smirks, obviously aware of how striking she looks right now and intent on drinking in my powerlessly awed reaction to her.  Slowly, her other hand comes up under the elevator, her palm cupped just below it.  Gingerly, I step out and onto the flesh of her hand.  Instantly I can detect a sweet, vanilla-like scent emanating from her skin; she probably lathered lotion over every inch of herself, not wanting to miss a single detail of this thing.

                “You look very handsome in that outfit,” she comments smoothly, standing back up to her full height as I sprawl in her palm, awaiting her to level back out so I can stand up.  I smile back as convincingly as I can.

                “Thanks.  And… you look nice, too,” I say, pausing slowly before the last phrase, knowing how important it will be for my new girlfriend/dastardly captor to hear and appreciate the significance of it.  As I suspected, Julia smiles widely, her eyes lighting up like Christmas instantaneously with unkempt joy and desire that scares me for a moment, but it softens just as quickly as it comes.  She shakes her head, batting her eyes more purposefully.

                “Shall we go to dinner, Jack?” she inquires politely, as if there was a choice here.  I nod and receive a warm smile back from Julia, who proceeds toward the door of her rather large bedroom, grasps the handle, and swings it open, sending a rush of air into my face that almost makes my eyes water as she begins trekking through the spiraling heights of the lavish hallway.

                I have to admit, a trip out of Julia’s room is a treat in of itself, since it happens so very rarely, and most of my time otherwise is spent cooped up either in that doll house, on Julia’s desk, or in her lovingly tightened fist.  Getting to see the hallways and rooms of the mansion, already huge in its own right, at a scale so incomprehensibly massive that all I can do is try unsuccessfully to drink it all in is something I look forward to.  It’s not a particularly pleasant reminder of the fact that I’m totally helpless and devoid of escape possibilities while cupped in the palm of Julia’s hand, but it gets so tragically, skull-numbing monotonous in that bedroom, frankly, seeing anything else helps keep my mind engaged enough to not turn into oatmeal.

                The journey becomes even more wild as we descend the staircase to the lower floor: something I haven’t done in two years, now that I think about it.  The area seems dark around, with only a dim light coming from the next room.  I squint, trying to make out the details of it as Julia calmly steps toward it, the heels she’s wearing clacking powerfully against the tile floor.

                Finally, as Julia enters the kitchen, I can see it, and it’s impressive.  A large crystal chandelier hangs over the table from the high ceilings, light dancing merrily in the ornaments from the flickering of four candle lights dotting the table, which is set for two, with fine china on one side, and in the center of the table, a tiny set-up with a toy doll’s table and Barbie utensils.  The whole thing is undeniably impressive, and I can’t help but feel glee in my heart.  More and more, I’m seeing just how possible all of this dreamland-esque escape plan stuff could become if I perform well tonight.

                “So… what do you think?” asks Julia brightly, clearly trying to hide the nervousness in her voice, as if I wouldn’t like it all, as she comes to a stop in front of the table.  I look up at her, smirking with as much delight as I can artificially conjure.

                “It looks terrific,” I answer simply.

                “Thank you,” she responds, looking relieved.  “Normally, of course, a gentleman would pull out his date’s chair, but…” drawls Julia dreamily, pressing a finger to her chin as if debating whether or not to place me on the floor next to her heels and ask me to move a chair the size of a modest skyscraper.  “…since our circumstances are a little, um…” she says delicately, as if afraid she’ll hurt my feelings.  “…special, I suppose we’ll just have to make up our own rules, won’t we, Jack?”

                “I guess so,” I shrug, trying to sound supportive.  Slowly, Julia leans forward into the table and, pinching the tiny doll chair between her thumb and forefinger, plucks it out and raises it up to her other hand that’s still holding me steadily.  She places it on her fingers and grins expectantly at me.  Carefully, I take a seat in the chair, which Julia quickly closes around with her fingers to prevent me from falling and lowers it back to the table, gingerly placing me and my little plastic seat back in front of the table.  Finally, Julia pulls her own massive chair out, takes a seat, and folds her hands in her lap, smiling magnanimously at me, a devious glimmer alighting in her oceanic irises.

                Here we go…

Never, in the past two years of being roughly three inches tall, had I experienced something this surreal.

                Okay, maybe that’s an overstatement, but nevertheless, as Julia and I continue sitting here, picking awkwardly at our dinner and chatting idly, smiling like lovesick puppies at one another, I’m slowly beginning to experience an odd sensation.  After some thought, I’m able to figure out what it is.  Normalcy.  And damn, it’s been a long time.

                Most people probably wouldn’t consider this particular situation to be “normal” at all, considering my girlfriend could stab her fork through my leg, slake me through a little pool of teriyaki on her plate, and gulp me down like a piece of meat with no more exertion than extending her arm, but it’s about as normal as I can expect.

                For one thing, I’m not hungrily snatching pieces of food off of a scrap like a pet hamster, I’m sitting at a table, using tiny utensils and plates.  Weirdest of all, though, I’m not having the kinds of odd, robotically positive memory exchanges I normally have at mealtimes with my fellow shrunken cohorts.  I’m having… well, dinner conversation.  It’s with my kidnapper and I have to pretend like nothing’s wrong, which is a little awkward, but other than that, it’s totally normal. 

                “What do you want to know about me, Jack?” asks Julia invitingly, finishing up the final bites of food on her plate.

                “I… um…” I stumble, trying to find some neutral ground to keep this conversation rolling.  “Tell me about your parents.”

                “Oh.  Them,” she says, sneering a little.  “They’re annoying.  They’re almost never here, obviously, too busy with their jobs.  I… don’t really want to talk about them.”

                “Okay.  I’m sorry,” I add quickly.

                “Don’t be.  It’s not your fault.  Now, tell me about your parents, Jack,” says Julia sweetly, placing a small bite of potato on her tongue and beginning to masticate it quietly between her teeth.  For a moment, I’m distracted with fear, watching the chunk of food be ground ruthlessly between her cheeks and imagining with pulse-pounding terror that it’s me in there, but I quickly revert to forced boyfriend mode.

                “I… well, I don’t know what there is to tell, exactly.”
                “Try,” requests Julia, placing an elbow on the table and resting her chin on it, studying me intently.  “I want to hear.”

                “Um… okay, sure,” I say, my throat drying out.  “I… well, my actual parents aren’t really around anymore, but I live with fosters, have for a long time now,” I begin uncertainly.  I watch Julia’s face, obviously completely focused and hanging on each word I say.  It’s a little strange having such a massive entity of life so thoroughly engaged in what you’re saying.  It almost makes me swell with a false sense of importance.  “We sort of live separate lives.  We don’t really… you know, know each other that well.  They’re nice people, really, but…”

                “They don’t get you, do they?” interjects Julia, finishing the thought.

                “No, not really,” I answer with surprising ease as instinct gradually takes over.  She nods knowingly.

                “I didn’t think so.  Not… many people understood you, did they, Jack?”

                “I guess not.  I sort of like to keep to myself usually, it’s just who I am.”

                “I know that.  And… that’s part of why I like you so much.  Because you’re not like so many boys out there today that think it’s all about them, trying to get up in people’s faces in everything with their opinions and… oh, I don’t know.  You’re just… just…” she sighs.  “…so special.”

                “Thank you, Julia.”

                “No.  Thank you,” she insists.  “So, I guess you can see now…”

                “See what?”

                “Why this is all so good for you.  Coming here, I mean.  Back when I found you and brought you home,” she adds.

                “I…”

                “You HAVE to be able to see, Jack.  Think about it.  No one really got you out there.  Not even… your own parents.  It must have hurt to not have people understand you fully.”

                “Sometimes, yeah.”

                Slowly, Julia was leaning forward across the table, her hands flat on the wood as her face neared mine aggressively, her whisper lowering back down to that huskily sultry level.  The chills began coming back.  “And that’s why I took you.  I saw that person in you, and I knew I could save you if I just took you back home with me.”

                “S-S-Save?” I ask, surprised at this choice of words and losing my wall of confidence briefly.

                “Of course,” she smiles.  “I saved you from that big scary world out there that wouldn’t get you, or ever try to get you.  It’s a really selfish place out there full of jerks.  But… in here… there’s none of that.  I’ve given you friends, Jack.  People you can be with.  And then, well… there’s me.  I’m here for you.”

                “I know.”

                “No.  You don’t know,” corrects Julia insistently.  “I’m here for you because I brought you here for a reason.  You just weren’t working right out there on your own.  You were missing something.  And… now, you’ve finally gotten it back, and I think you know what it is.”

                “I…” I drawl quietly, my gaze drawn to Julia’s deep blue eyes as strongly as hers are to mine, although for an obviously different reason.  Her words, so mesmerizing and heavy like those of a hypnotist.  The depth of her belief in the things she’s spouting are almost as scary as the thought of watching the shadow of her shoe come crashing down on top of me.  I feel like I’m staring into the giant teenage girl version of some mad tyrant.  In a way, I suppose that’s exactly what she is.

                “Of course you know what it is,” she says, puckering her lips in a pout.  “What you needed in your life was to be ruled.  To be owned.  This… THIS… is what your life was missing.  The piece of your puzzle that you just couldn’t find.  It was me all along, a girl you never bothered to notice before, but never gave up on you because she saw the potential in you and your life.  Your potential to be mine.  All of you.  And… now that we’re here, and I know you appreciate that, we can finally be…” she said slowly, extending a finger across my tiny toy table.  “…honest with each other.”

                “Honest?  Like… how?  I thought we were honest,” I gulp nervously.

                Raising an eyebrow, Julia smirks sarcastically at me.  “Oh, don’t play innocent with me, Jack.  We both know it.  Our feelings for each other, they’re something so… much different than anything there’s been before.  Because… now that we’re on a date, we’re more than just boyfriend and girlfriend.  I… don’t know what it is, or what to call it, all I know is that I like it,” whispers Julia seductively, lapping the tip of her tongue against her lips.  “And I know you do, too, Jack.  You don’t have to hide it from me anymore.”

                Gently, her finger snakes from the table and onto my chest.  I swallow hard, leaning hard back against the plastic chair as Julia’s pointer fingertip finds its way into the coat I’m wearing, tugging lightly at it as if to loosen it.  Quickly, I place my hands on her intruding finger, stroking it to help calm the situation, and look pleadingly up at her.

                “Julia, maybe we should… keep talking about this.”

                “I don’t want to talk anymore, Jack,” whispers my date, her eyes widening unblinkingly as her finger continues groping at my chest through my doll clothes.  “I’ve waited a long, long time for you to be able to understand everything I just told you.  I… I couldn’t just tell you before.  You wouldn’t have understood.”

                “I would have, Julia, really!” I object, losing the battle with the caress of Julia’s finger.

                She shakes her head in the negative.  “No.  No, you wouldn’t have.  You would’ve been scared, just like you used to be.  And I respected that.  I knew you wouldn’t understand immediately that you were always destined to belong to me, and that you would need time to adjust to living in my house by my rules.  You would need time to learn that… your life doesn’t belong to you anymore, it belongs to me.  Just… like… the rest of you,” she coos, her finger finally victoriously breaking through the cheap Velcro of the shirt and coat.  Drawing her hand back, Julia watches with amusement as I am left shirtless on her table under the candles, grasping frantically at my clothes to try and cover myself back up.  It seems dangerous to have this much skin exposed at a time like this.

                “Leave it there,” orders Julia with a more thunderously authoritative spark in her words that instantly gets me to stop reaching for the shirt, nodding in agreement.  “And you’ve had time.  A lot of it.  And… now that we’re finally on the same playing field… we’re on a date, we’re… together, like it was meant to be, I can finally put a couple things on the table here, so to speak.”

                “Julia, please,” I beg indirectly for this to stop, clutching my arms around my sides.

                “You don’t understand how hard it’s been for me to… treat you like this.  The same as all the others, when you’re not really the same as them.  But… don’t you understand, Jack?  All of it… ALL OF IT… was for you.  So we could finally be together, here, like… this… for always,” she says softly, her hand rising up and extending towards me.  I flinch as her thumb and forefinger pinch gently around my sides, plucking me out of my chair like an after dinner mint and bringing me closer and closer to her face.

                Julia takes a sharp intake of breath, as if someone had just held her underwater for an extended period of time, as she takes in the sight of me from up closer.  She looks beyond overjoyed, like a kid set loose with unlimited access in a combination candy-and-toy store.  Her other hand comes into view, her thumb stuck up as she presses it against my abdomen, prodding curiously at me.

                “It’s like I’m… seeing you for the first time right now, Jack,” states my giant girlfriend, beginning to fondle my upper body with her thumb while her eyes remain trained on mine.  “Look at me.”

                “Okay,” I say nervously, my voice quivering, having no idea of what to do right now but simply exist in the moment as I dangle over the ground far below, clutched between the fingers of this desperate goddess.

                She smiles, licking her moist lips with a slimy tongue.  “I’m done waiting.  Come here.”

                “Julia, stop, just for a second, listen to me, I…”

                “No, Jack.  Not anymore,” responds Julia simply as her fingers, still firmly clutching me, draw closer to her lips.  I tremble, not knowing what’s coming, watching her pink sparkle-glossed lips practically undulating with her words.

                “Julia… we don’t have to do this right now.  Please, I’m begging you, just…”

                “Jack?”

                “Yes?”

                “Shut the hell up,” she commands hungrily before allowing her monstrous tongue, glistening with saliva, to break through the threshold of her lips and come shooting towards me.  I put my hands in front of my face, as if that would do a single thing, and a microsecond later feel the warm, sticky rush of Julia’s gummy spit caking my upper body as her rotund, muscular tongue squishily presses itself against me.  I squirm violently, then feel my back being firmly flattened against her fleshy palm as she clutches my body closer to her lips.  At this point, escape is clearly impossible, but out of instinct I make the effort, wrapping my arms roughly around Julia’s slippery tongue as it snakes all around, flicking wetly at my face and making my hair soppy with foamy residue.  I sputter, gasping for breath, as a fresh coating of the goopy stuff dribbles down my face and chest and along my pant legs, soaking the fabric through to my skin.  For an instant, the nightmarish feeling of being suffocated by Julia’s tongue comes back, but it quickly goes away again.  This is different.

                Despite the aggressive strokes of Julia’s tongue as it rubs itself along each nook and cranny of my upper body, it’s not violent or malevolent.  Julia’s licking me with deep passion, not a cruel desire to see tiny people punished humiliatingly.  Truly, it’s a little hard to tell the difference at my vulnerable height, but it’s enough to know.

                We’re not struggling for the supremacy of our respective prides.  We’re making out.

                Quickly, Julia’s tongue slips its way back between her lips, and suddenly she’s puckering, pressing the smooth, soft flesh of her lips against my torso.  And, realizing what has to be done to make the most of the limited situation, I think of my friends, counting on me, and do what is necessary.  I lean forward and press my lips against the cushy outer layer of Julia’s upper lip.  It’s not much, of course, and I doubt my girlfriend can feel it unless she decided to concentrate particularly hard on it, but it’s something.  With renewed zeal, I press my face against her lip and kiss.

                Steadily, Julia’s lips begin to twist on my sopping body, making soft suckling noises as she presses lovingly against my body with her palm, clearly getting out two years, if not longer, of desire in this single moment.  Admittedly, the insanity of having this adorable teenage girl’s soft, wet mouth slobbering and puckering against so much of my body is enough to get me in the zone, and swallowing my pride, I continue to interact as meaningfully as I can, pressing my lips and face as hard as I can into Julia’s.  Every few seconds, I feel a fresh bubble of drool released from between Julia’s lips that slowly dribbles down my body and to my feet, where it dangles for a moment before falling off.  Clearly, the girl’s so absolutely into what she’s doing, she’s long ago forgotten about anything else beyond the most basic breathing requirements, which she accomplishes by opening her lips for an instant and allowing drip after drip of hot saliva to cascade down my body.

                Gradually I hear Julia beginning to moan, and she even tosses in a few variations to the formula, popping her lips off of my body for just long enough to clasp her hands back against her lips, cupping me even harder into her titanic kiss.  Eventually, I even feel the rubbery, slick texture of her slavering tongue lapping playfully at my body from between her lips again, like token gestures of thanks.  Evidently, she can feel my enthusiastic kisses on her lip, no matter how comparatively weak they are.

                At long last, it ends.  Julia releases me, allowing her palms to cup together as I flop backward, my entire body coated in sticky dried saliva, my lips sore from the effort, my entire body red and sore from the pure exertion put onto me from those huge, passionate lips.

                It’s odd, but there’s just no way around it.  I’ve never made out with anyone until now, and what just happened had a new kind of magic to me, too, just as much as it did Julia, who simply flops back in her chair, breathing heavily for a few moments and clutching me idly in her hands.  I suppose few others will ever experience a first kiss, or indeed, a kiss of any kind, with that kind of pent-up passion, not to mention the magnitude of it.  The two plump layers of lip, soft and plush, undulating powerfully against my body, pumping hot spit lubricant out over me to make it easier for her.  It’s a sensation I won’t soon forget.

                “Okay.  We’re… we’re done for tonight.  That’s enough,” whispers Julia, bringing me closer again and laying a single soft peck on my chest.  She grins.  “I knew you’d come around, Jack.  I knew you’d finally understand.  Thank you for that.”

                “Thank you, too, Julia.”

                “You can’t tell the others about this, of course… I mean, what we did here right now.  What’s really going on between us.  How… deep we are together.  Can you promise me you won’t tell them?”

                “Of course I won’t tell them,” I lie convincingly.

                “Thank you, Jack,” she whispers, bringing me back in and gently extending the tip of her tongue again, licking gently at my wet face.  She giggles.  “This doesn’t have to end, you know,” she adds enticingly.  “We’ll keep going out, just like this, here, in my house.  Away from all the nasty stuff outside.  You can be safe here, with me, with nothing but our feelings for one another.  Just… imagine it.  Imagine the things I could do to make you happy, and what you… could do to make me happy, too.”

                “I’d love that, Julia.”

                “So would I,” grins Julia, opening her mouth slowly to lick me again, her gooey tongue drawing closer to my barely quivering body.

                The instant the cup lowers back into the house, the closet door shuts, and the sounds of Julia’s feet stomping away fade, all hell breaks loose.  Gina instantly tackles me in a hug, wrapping her arms around me and clutching herself to me, breathing heavily with anxiety.  As soon as Anna helps her up, Brian is clasping my hand and pulling me up, a broad smile on his face.  Wordlessly, all five of us proceed into my doll house bedroom, take a seat, and I simply spill the beans on the entire evening.

                “Goddamn, kid,” laughs Brian joyfully.  “Sounds like you couldn’t have done it any more perfectly.”

                “She didn’t hurt you or anything, though?” asks Anna with concern.  “When you were… well, you know…”

                “No,” I reassure her, feeling Gina clasping my hand more tightly at these insinuations that someone else was laying kisses down on me so vigorously.  I squeeze her hand back, nodding to her with a smile.  “No, she was… she was gentle about it.  I mean, I did need a bath afterward, but…”

                “Yikes, sounds like she’s a fiery one,” snickers Brian, clearly in a fantastic mood at this newest development.  Kelly punches him in the arm to shush him, then crawls closer to me.

                “So… what about… more?  Did she say?”

                I nod slowly and wearily.  “In two more days, we’re doing it again.”

                Brian claps his hands loudly just once, pumping his fist in the air in triumph.  He moves forward and slaps me on the back a little too hard in congratulations.  “Keep it up, Jack.  You’re doing fantastic.  We’ll… we’ll help you from here on out, of course, if you need it, but I think you know…”

                “Yeah.  I know.”

                “…there’s only so much we can do.  The ball’s in your court now.”

                I gulp.  “I’m tired now, guys.  I need some sleep.”

                “Good work, Jack,” whispers Kelly sweetly, rubbing my shoulder briefly before exiting. 

                Anna walks up, looking speechless for a moment, then kisses me gently on the cheek.  “You can do this, Jack.  Love you.”

                Brian nods sheepishly at me, clearly not needing to say anything else.  Silently, I hear them all make their ways back to their rooms in the dark.  I turn to collapse onto my matchbox to finally get some sleep after a both physically and emotionally exhausting evening.  However, I’m surprised to find Gina still standing behind me.  In the dark, it’s difficult to make out her expression, but she takes a step closer to me, her hand extending and grasping at mine.

                “Something wrong?” I ask slowly.

                She shakes her head.  “I’m just… glad… you’re okay,” she whispers.

                “Me too,” I respond.  “I’m going to get us out of here, I swear to God.  I am.”

                “I know,” she answers, lowering her head and taking another step closer, pressing her cheek against my shoulder.  She slips her fingers in between mine, our hands clasped more firmly together.  “Just… please… be careful.”

                “I know.  I’m trying.”

                “No.  I mean it.  You have to take care of yourself.  I… need you.”
                “We all need each other, Gina, I know that.  I need you too.”

                “No.  I mean, I… need… you…”

                “Oh,” I begin, but feel Gina’s pointer finger gently pressing against my lips to shush me.  Then, slowly she lifts her head back up and even in the dark, our eyes are able to meet.  A moment later, we’re pressing our lips together, our hands still clutched, our bodies gently leaning against one another for support, and despite the terror I experienced all this evening pretending I have feelings for Julia, this moment makes it all worthwhile a hundredfold.

                “And… from the top, again!” calls out Julia enthusiastically, clapping her hands with delight as the five of us parade around on the little musical set on her desk she’s so lovingly prepared for her dream project.  Goose-stepping all around in these overly colorful doll clothes is entirely more than I’d prefer to deal with, but at the same time, it’s infinitely preferable to enduring another date night with Julia, which, in the weeks since that first one, I’ve been almost one hundred percent emotionally exhausted, putting on a show every few days to appease her whims: acting as though I’m completely enamored with her and want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life as her pet boyfriend, when in reality she scares the living shit out of me whenever we’re together.

                It’s always the same.  We get all gussied up in the fancy clothes, Julia carries me downstairs, where she’s cooked a reasonably elaborate meal for us to share.  We sit and talk idly about the most irrelevant things that never fail to keep Julia absolutely enthralled no matter what’s being said.  Afterward, Julia plucks me off the table and we messily make out for a few minutes.  This usually ends up with me losing a shirt and drenched in her saliva after a ruthless tongue wrestling, and finally, satisfied, Julia brings me back up to the dollhouse, and I finally get to spend some time with Gina, the only one I’d actually like to spend any time with at all while here.

                “A five, six, seven, eight!” sings Julia, tapping out the beat with her finger on the edge of the desk, and we begin the dance number again, jumping around like monkeys who’ve lost their bananas.  Ironically, I’m pretty sure we’re all going to start going bananas here if this doesn’t let up soon.  Suddenly, however, Anna trips and topples over, yelping in discomfort as she struggles to her feet.  Brian quickly rushes over to help her.  Because we don’t eat very well here, Anna actually hasn’t gained a lot of weight while being pregnant, but even the small amount she has seems to have set her off balance.  “Anna?  Are you all right?” asks Julia with concern.

                “I’m… fine.  Just… tired.”

                “From what?” asks Julia, raising an eyebrow.  “You got plenty of sleep.  You ate a good breakfast.”

                “I know.  I… I guess I just… I…” stutters Anna uncomfortably, trying to hunch her back slightly to make her bump less noticeable.

                “I want this musical to be perfect,” frowns Julia sternly.  “Perfect.  And I’m not going to let you fall behind in your part just because you-” continues our titanic teen captor, but she stops in her tracks, her jaw hanging open, her eyes squinting curiously.

                “Julia, I’ll help her, she’ll do what you want,” adds Brian frantically, trying to distract Julia while standing in the way, hoping to block as much of her view of Anna as possible.

                “Brian, move, please,” requests Julia softly and unblinkingly.

                “But…”

                “MOVE!” shouts Julia, her eyes growing wider as it all becomes clearer.  Sheepishly, Brian steps to the side, clutching Anna’s hand in his, and both stare at the ground.  “Anna?”

                “Yes?” whispers the terrified mother-to-be in so low a voice even we can barely make it out.

                “Lift up your shirt,” orders Julia coldly.

                “Who did this to you?” asks Julia with an eerie calm in her voice as she studies Anna’s reluctantly revealed pregnant belly.  The rest of us are staring guiltily at the ground, hoping not to be picked on for information.  “WELL?” she blurts out, beginning to quiver with bubbling rage.

                “I… I…”

                “Stop stuttering!  I want to know who did it!” booms Julia, stiffening up in her seat and looming dreadfully over the desk like the dictator that she is.

                “Julia, please, just leave her alone, she’s…” I quietly protest.

                “I swear to God, Jack…” cuts in Julia without looking directly at me, her words steely and curt.  Her words, like cold silver, slice to my bones and make me shiver violently.  “If you did this, I will…”

                “It was ME, Julia, okay!” calls out Brian quickly, pulled from his stunned stupor as he steps forward.  Taken aback, Julia nods and turns to face him, looking disdainfully down at him, although there’s a distinct change in her face.  Almost a hint of relief.

                “So… you two, then?” asks Julia quietly, sounding mildly disgusted at the mere suggestion of it.  “Brian… did you make her do it?”

                “No, I…”

                “DID YOU MAKE HER DO IT?” roars Julia, fury flashing up for a moment, her eyes dancing with fire.

                “HE DIDN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING!” screams Anna, bursting into tears.  Brian wraps an arm around her to comfort her, although this only seems to make Julia look angrier.

                “I see,” answers Julia, frowning again.  “Brian, take your little hands off of her, NOW.”

                Reluctantly, Brian obliges, stepping away and cringing as he does so.  Julia clears her throat.

                “So, Anna… I guess that makes you a little whore, doesn’t it?” our captor asks quietly.

                “Please…” Anna gasps, sniffling.

                “DOESN’T IT?”

                “Yes,” answers the pregnant woman quickly, nodding vigorously.

                “Say it back to me,” commands Julia, the same icy tone remaining in place.  We know that when it gets to this point, Julia’s about ready to snap.  We can tell just from the sound of her words how close we could be to annihilation under the crushing weight of one of her fists.  “Say: I am a dirty little whore.  Say it back to me, just like that.”

                “Hey, wait, now!” growls Brian, taking a few steps forward, but without even breaking stride, Julia smirks pitifully down at him and with a simple flick of her massive thumb and middle finger to his gut sends him reeling backward away from his more aggressive stance in front of Anna, coughing uncomfortably as he struggles for air, his body rolling backward and slamming into the tiny stage backdrop with a painful-sounding smack.

                “BRIAN!” cries Anna, reaching out for her lover and taking a step toward him, but Julia’s fist comes down hard on the desk, rattling us all enough that we almost fall over.  Anna staggers, more tears welling in her eyes, and moves back to where she was standing.  Julia, smirking with satisfaction, raises her fist back up from the desk.

                “Say it now,” continues Julia as though nothing had happened, folding her fingers back together on top of the desk and observing Anna’s worry-stricken face looking back at Brian as he wearily pulls himself to his feet.  Julia snaps her fingers together to get the little woman’s attention back, then grins devilishly at her again.  “Say it.  Tell me who’s a dirty little whore.”

                “I am,” swallows Anna slowly, looking down and fighting to speak through the tears.  “I’m a dirty little whore.”

                “Very good,” says Julia slowly and happily.  “I guess this means I haven’t done as good a job teaching all of you about values as I thought I have.  And I’m sorry about that.  So, I guess we’re going to have to start from the ground up, then,” she concludes, nodding to herself.  “That will… conclude practice for today.  Today, you all… well, most of you,” she says, shooting me a quick glance.  “…are going to be eating lunch in the house today.  I’ve got… other plans today.  But don’t be too upset, I’ve got something extra-special for you today,” she continues.  “Spaghetti with marina.”

                My heart flutters in my chest.  I shoot a glance at the others, and they all nod.  We know what this means.  Not only did we just miraculously survive what all of us have been dreading for so long without so much as a scratch aside from Brian, but phase two of the plan is finally in place.

                “It’s so peaceful out here,” smiles Julia, staring out at the trees beyond the estate as we sit on a large blue checkered picnic blanket on some fresh green grass in the expansive backyard.  Of course, what would already look like a sizeable chunk of land to a normal-sized person looks like the Amazon jungle to me, stretching on for endless miles, and as I sit perched on Julia’s shoulder, my arm wrapped around a lock of her hair to keep me balanced, it’s hard to look at and not get some equivalent of vertigo.

                The day is actually turning out better than I would’ve ever dared hope when I woke up.  Of course, it doesn’t take more than a few token good items to raise my spirits considering I wake up every day feeling like I’m in a concentration camp circa 1943, but all in all, I can’t complain about a single thing.  For starters, Anna’s little secret was discovered, and there were no immediate consequences to be seen.  Of course, we don’t know if it will come back to bite us in the end, but the five of us prefer to not discount the fact that Brian and/or Anna are still “safely” in the dollhouse and not on their way through the murkier part of Julia’s large intestine right now.

                And, of course, I’m outside.  I’m literally in the outdoors for the first time in two years.  I’ve never felt so liberated in all my existence.  To inhale deeply and feel the cool breeze on my arms as I hold them out in the air fills me with a sense of euphoria that’s admittedly only matched when I lock lips with Gina, but that’s of course a much different scenario.  Here, even though I’m perched on Julia’s shoulder and have no possible way of escaping without being caught by her hawk-like vision, I can pretend I’m not a three-inch-tall doll person being sickeningly idolized by a monstrous giant of a teenage girl, and instead simply be in the moment.

                “Yeah, it is pretty nice,” I say dreamily, hardly hearing her words as I drink it all in.

                “Like it out here?” she says sweetly.

                “I love it,” I nod back, and for once I don’t have to act.  It really is marvelous.

                “Well, just keep on being you, and maybe we can have more dates out here.  Would you like that?”

                “Yeah.  Definitely.”

                “Good.  So would I,” she coos, her hand rising up to her shoulder.  Her fingers slide their way around my sides, gripping me and plucking me off her shoulder.  She cradles me in her palm as she brings me slowly down toward the picnic blanket, laying me down in front of a napkin with a few plunks of corn kernels, a grape, and a small hunk of bread.  “There’s your food.”

                “Thanks, Julia,” I respond, picking up a corn kernel and politely taking a nibble out of it.  Julia, meanwhile, reaches the same hand down toward a paper plate and picks up a strawberry, which she proceeds to raise to her lips, smacking them together for a moment, obviously to get my attention.

                I turn fully around, looking up at her huge, adorable face, the blinding light of the sun coming in between the uneven canopy of her silky and radiant chocolate brown hair.  She’s so pretty as I stare up at her, I can almost conceive of forgetting just what a psychopathic monster she is.

                Almost.

                Julia parts her lips and lets her tongue flick outward at the tip of the strawberry playfully for a moment before retracting it into the dark, moist recesses of her cheek.  She giggles, then clacks her teeth loudly together before making room and inserting just the tip of the bright red fruit.  She quickly slams her teeth down, easily slicing through the soft fruit with a wet plop that causes a few droplets of strawberry water to dribble down her chin.  One of them cascades down towards me, landing just at my feet.  I flinch but keep my ground, looking back up as she grinds the bite into a pulp between her molars, the red shreds being mashed into a watery paste along the back of her tongue.  Then, satisfied, she closes her lips and swallows hard, allowing it to easily slip down her throat.

                She really is trying hard to make this “relationship” work.  I imagine that if certain circumstances were different here (ie: Julia wasn’t a murderer, I wasn’t her shrunken slave), then I would’ve found such a display by a cute young girl to be reasonably sexy.

                “Mmmmm… oh, that’s fantastic… I guess I picked these right when they were ripe,” says Julia giddily, opening her jaw and popping in the rest of the strawberry, munching it too into fruity mulch.  “Would you like to help me next time?”

                “Absolutely,” I say enthusiastically.

                “Good,” nods Julia, twiddling her thumbs nervously for a moment.  “You know, Jack, you really have surprised me.  We’ve been dating for a month and I just… keep seeing new sides of you.”

                “Um… thanks,” I answer uncertainly.

                She snickers.  “Don’t be embarrassed, baby, I just like you, is all.”

                “Maybe you should give people a chance to surprise you,” I suggest.

                “Yeah… I… I guess,” she nods in agreement.  “Will you tell me something?”

                “What?”
                “Was I too hard on Brian and Anna earlier?”

                I gulp.  What’s going on?  What’s happened to our relationship that we’ve reached the point where I’m actually consulted by Julia for an opinion?  Obviously we’re not nearly at equals status, but it’s a major step into uncharted territory.  I hardly know what to say.

                “I… well…”

                “Don’t be nervous.  Just tell me.  I want to know.”

                “Maybe a little tiny bit,” I respond quietly, bowing my head.  Julia shakes her head, taking it in.

                “Yes, I guess I was.  I mean… they ARE both adults, they can choose who they love and who they want to make love to,” she concludes.  “I guess it would be unfair of me to try to take away their happiness when…” she continues, her hand lowering toward me.  Gently, pointer finger extended, she begins to stroke along my back lovingly.  “…I’ve already gotten so much happiness from you.”

                When the hell did Julia grow some humanity?

“How you feeling, man?” asks Brian uncertainly, patting my shoulder hesitantly.

                “Like my stomach’s about to explode,” I whisper weakly, clutching my midsection.  “If I try to take one more bite of that damn marinara I’ll pop.  Should we dump the rest?”

                “On it,” says Gina, scooping the remains of the week-old spaghetti sauce into the little condiment cup toilet we have in the dollhouse.  We decided we had to wait at least seven days before pulling this trick in order to allay suspicion on Julia’s part.  And, knowing Julia, insurance against well-founded paranoia was a must.

                “Well, just hold it in until we get out there,” says Kelly with half a smile, trying to sound supportive.  “I saw her getting out the computer before she put lunch down.  I think we’re watching some kind of documentary on it after this.”

                “Yeah, a documentary… what WE’RE about to do is gonna be far more entertaining,” says Brian snidely, rubbing his hands together in preparation.

                “Be careful, Brian,” says Anna softly, laying a hand on him as well and the other on her stomach.  “I need you to stay together.”

                “I know.  I’m not going anywhere,” he says reassuringly, turning to face the mother of his unborn child and kissing her on the forehead.  “And that’s a promise.”

                “Cup’s down,” notes Kelly, looking over to the end of the plastic hall as our elevator is lowered down.  “Show time.”

                “Done!” whispers Gina after shoveling the last handful of remaining sauce down the dollhouse toilet.

                “Okay.  Look… we don’t have more than a few seconds, but…” whispers Brian as all five of us huddle together, like a football team about to make a final play for the game-winning touchdown at the Super Bowl.  “We’ve talked over this so many times we probably all know the plan backwards.  Just… do it.  Get it done.  We’ll be all right.”

                “Of course we will!” says Gina softly, clutching my hand in hers.

                “Let’s give this bitch a show,” says Kelly with a slight smirk that we can’t help but all share as we head for the cup and one by one head back up for lessons.

                The documentary is pretty boring.  It’s about rainforest animals.  While listening to the droning of the British narrator’s voice, I slowly get into the zone, trying to psyche myself out.  Despite the fact that I’m not coughing up actual blood, from all the nerves I feel at this moment, I might as well be (and besides, if my cover gets blown, I might very well end up coughing up REAL blood courtesy of Julia’s thumb).  Taking a deep breath, I look around at the other four, who subtly nod to me.  Brian gives me a thumbs up under the table of his toy desk.

                Julia is seated before the class as always, but isn’t paying particularly close attention to us since we’re just watching a movie on the screen of her laptop.  I watch her eyes glance quickly over us before returning to the screen, and that’s when I make my move.  Swallowing another hard gulp of air, I clench my muscles, pinch two fingers together, and plunge them back into my throat, holding them there for as long as I can before my gag reflex coughs them out, along with far more spaghetti sauce than I ever want to consume in one sitting ever again.

                Everything that happens next happens in a heartbeat.  I hack wildly, spewing the goopy red stuff all over my seat and myself.  Admittedly, it does look a lot like blood at this point, as a lot of the sharper red color has been drained from it, and now it’s been reduced to a finer liquid.  Julia instantly is turning to look at me, and the most horrified expression I have ever seen on a human being’s face crosses over her expression.  It’s almost unsettling to see this powerhouse girl who’s personally enslaved five people older than herself without raising a single alarm look so utterly terrified, but at the same time I’m grateful.  It means it’s working.  Without a thought, she gasps loudly, her hand shooting forward.  Delicately, she scoops me into her palm as I continue puking up more marina into her hand, although she doesn’t seem to mind as she covers me with the fingers of her other hand, making for the bedroom door rapidly.  She doesn’t even say a word to the others as we disappear into the hallway.

                It’s in their hands now to send off that email to Beth.  I say a silent prayer for my comrades as Julia whisks me toward the bathroom.  She slips in, kicks the door shut, and then quickly kneels by the sink, setting me down so lightly on the porcelain countertop she seems to think I’ll fall apart at any second like a chipped china doll.

                “Oh, God… Oh, Jesus, oh, God…” moans Julia in exasperation.  “Please let him be okay… please let him be okay…”  Instantly, I realize how well this is working, and know now that I have to concentrate on extending this for as long as possible.  Weakly, I cough up a few more spouts of fake blood and raise up a quivering hand into the air.

                “J-J-J-J-Julia…” I whisper softly.  “W-W-Where are you…”

                “Oh my God… Jack?” she coos sweetly, lowering her pinky finer into reaching distance of my hands.  “I’m right here, baby.  I’m right here.  Can you talk?”

                “Y-Y-Yes…” I gasp.  “J-Just…”

                “No.  Wait.  I’m sorry.  Stop.  You can’t, you’re… too weak… you’ve thrown up a lot, and there was blood in there… a lot of it.  Please, stop moving.  Let me take care of it,” she says in a panic, twisting the brass handles on the sink and getting a loud stream of water to come crashing out of the faucet behind me.  “I… I… need to… wash you… I… oh, please, please, be okay…”

                “Julia, don’t leave me,” I whisper, grappling the soft tip of her pinky in my hands.

                “I’m NOT!” she gasps in shock, unable to cope with all of this at once.  She winces at the volume of her own voice, and I of course take the opportunity to pike on the guilt as much as possible by gasping in pain and clasping my own hands around my ears.  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers painfully, her hands quivering with fright over me as if she wants to squeeze me in comfort, but at the same time afraid that she’ll crush me if she lays a finger on me in this state.  “Please forgive me, Jack, I… oh, my God, why…”

                There’s something very refreshing about watching Julia so powerless like this, watching the only boyfriend she’ll ever have suffer from some unknown affliction that she can do absolutely nothing to help with, because anyone who would know about it would probably have something against the fact that I’ve been her gerbil for the past couple of years.  Out of pure, dark retribution stored in the recesses of my soul, I get what I believe to be a well-deserved but nonetheless somewhat sickening sense of joy as I watch my towering giant girlfriend squirm in emotional agony.

                “It looks like it’s stopped,” offers Julia in a hushed voice as brightly as she can muster, although her words are cracking as though she’s going to burst into stressed tears any minute.  “So… that’s good.  But… you’re probably still really weak,” she continues, sliding her fingers as gently as she can under my legs and back, lifting me up toward the water.  “I’ll just try to… rinse it off of you, okay?”

                I nod, swallowing hard, enough for her to get the message.  She brings me slowly under the water, cupping her hands and allowing a warm little pool of it to collect, soaking my clothes and rinsing the thicker patches of red from me.  Eventually, she allows the water to rush between the cracks between her fingers and brings me back up to her face.  Puckering, she begins to blow hot air down over me, drying me off.  Mentally, I try to take note of how long I’ve been here.  Probably about five minutes.  I need to drag this out a bit longer.

                “Thank you,” I whisper weakly, trying to make my voice waver.  “I feel better now.”

                “Are you sure?” she gasps, her voice so quiet I can barely make out her words.

                “Yes.  As long as…” I whimper pathetically.  “…you’re here, I know I’m… safe.”

                At this point, Julia’s attempts to fight back the tears are lost, and I watch a cascade of salty tears dribble down her cheeks as her smile splits from ear-to-ear.  “Oh, Jack,” she sighs with euphoria.  “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to say that.  Yourself, I mean.  That… you… feel safe… with me.  In my hands.  Where you belong.  I just…”

                “I love you, Julia,” I whisper with perfect clarity, emphasizing the syllables just right for maximum effect.  I get a little light-headed watching all of this happen above me, surrounded by a fence of Julia’s firm fingers all around me.  Hearing this, my giant girlfriend simply closes her eyes, biting her lip, and sobs quietly for a moment, then quickly brings me in closer, puckering again.

                She fits my face into the valley between her lips and kisses, enthusiastically and wetly.  Her damp, plush lips vibrating against my face, I feel her involuntary dribble of saliva already soaking my hair as it settles in on my head.  Julia may be passionate, but when she’s focused she gets a little sloppy, and like a signature on every massive kiss from this voracious evil goddess of a young woman, I always end up with a little more drool on my face than when I’m kissing Gina.

                She continues like this for a few more minutes, moaning softly and pecking at my face with her lips like she was trying to feed off of me.  Finally, when my face is thoroughly soaked and frazzled from the overwhelming embrace of her lips practically wrapping themselves around my head to suck on it like a lollipop, Julia pops her lips off of me and closes her eyes again, the tears still flowing in full force. 

                “I love you too, Jack.  So, so, SO, much,” she vamps, hardly able to get the words out through sniffles.  “You… you scared me just now.  And I couldn’t bear to ever lose you.  Do you understand?  How… how important you are to me?  I think I’d rather die than lose you, baby.”

                Challenge accepted, Julia.  Challenge accepted.

                It was successful.  Brian, Gina, Kelly, and Anna managed to send off the email to Brian’s sister Beth with time to spare, and by the time the teary-eyed Julia had returned with me from the bathroom after the exchange of our love vows, having cleaned up the mess I made, class was canceled for the rest of the day and we were placed back in the dollhouse, where all of us were able to recuperate and congratulate one another on our teamwork. 

                This time, it had paid off.  It had finally paid off. 

                Now, all we had to do was wait for Beth to get the hint.  With the message we had planned, carefully demonstrating in as few words as possible that it was, indeed, Brian sending the message from Julia’s address, it seemed inevitable that Beth’s suspicions would be aroused, at the very least.

                The next few days went by without incident.  My next date with Julia was mildly different, though, I have to admit.  If I thought Julia was perky and ready for action before, well… I hadn’t really seen anything yet.  She seemed almost volatile, sitting in her chair and leaning forward, her hand quivering as if she couldn’t wait for the meal to end so she could snatch me up and suckle me against her lips for our mandatory make-out session.  Or, at least whatever passed for making out given our unique circumstances.  It would probably make more sense to compare us between a little kid and a brand new candy jawbreaker rather than a pair of lovers, but I of course had no intention of registering this complaint with my girlfriend, particularly when I was so close to such a dangerous orifice of hers.

                By the third day after sending the email, we were all starting to get anxious, wondering if Beth had read it yet.  As Brian had said, she worked as a personal trainer at a local fitness center and was constantly on the go, but we knew sooner or later she’d check her mail.  As class ended for the day, though, and we were expecting to be taken back to the house before dinner and bath time, we were given a surprise of an entirely difference sort than we were expecting.

                “Class… I’m very pleased to announce that we will have… a new STUDENT today!” announces Julia, standing up over the desk and leaving us speechless and frozen.  Jesus Christ.  What unlucky son of a bitch has had the misfortune to appeal to a teenage girl who happened to own a matter reduction device?  Whoever it was, I knew we would have to act fast getting him or her to accept the nightmarish conditions of our life to avoid another “Jim” scenario.  All of us knew it was our job to do this before Julia simply became sick of the newbie’s antics and swallowed them whole like a runt anchovy.  “I’m happy to introduce to all of you to… Charlie.”

                Reaching into her pocket, Julia’s fist lowers to the tabletop and opens up, allowing a man to roll out of her palm and land face-down.  Curling her fingers back into a fist, Julia puts her hand back in her pocket and takes a seat, beaming at all of us.  I raise an eyebrow, looking over the newcomer as he rises to his feet.

                Charlie looks a little disheveled, with a short beard and mustache messily covering his chin, his eyes looking bloodshot and tired, although I could hardly blame him after he had just endured a ride in the giant pocket of a strange young girl who had, no doubt, used the device to reduce him to three inches without any kind of prefacing or explanation, picked him up in the terrifying confines of her warm fist, and pocketing him.  Frankly, I wonder why he’s not screaming or pissing his pants in fear.  Despite his unkempt look, Charlie looks to be in his early twenties.

                “I’m sure all of you will make Charlie feel welcome here at school,” smiles Julia, picking up the school bus from the ground and setting it up on the desk.  “Everyone climb aboard.  You’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted in the house.”

                “…the fuck?” hisses Charlie, looking around wildly.  I run to him, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him toward the bus.

                “Don’t say anything, just follow me if you want to stay in one piece,” I whisper urgently as all of us piled onto the bus.  Charlie seems to sense the seriousness in my voice because he complies rather easily, not saying another word until all of us had taken the trip across Julia’s bedroom and have been deposited into the dollhouse.  At long last, we’re given some privacy as we hear the towering closet door slammed shut outside, leaving us in the cheap light of the expensive dollhouse.

                “What the FLYING FUCK is GOING ON HERE?” yelps Charlie, doubling over on quivering knees.  As I had predicted, Charlie wasn’t quite sure what to do in this situation, and had simply been bottling up his shock until right now.

                “It’s okay, it’s okay… just breathe.  It’s going to be fine,” says Kelly reassuringly, stepping closer to him and extending a hand.  “We’re friends.  We’re not going to hurt you.  Are you all right?”

                “Yeah, yeah, I’m… fine, I guess, but… Jesus H. Christ, am I tripping right now or something?” asks Charlie, his eyes bugging with horror.

                “No.  You’re… not imagining anything right now,” adds Anna somberly.

                “It’s exactly what you think it is, pal,” says Brian, shrugging apologetically.  “I’m sorry, I really am.”

                “Fuck…” breathes Charlie, finally collapsing into a sitting position against the plastic wall of the dollhouse.  “That was one of those matter reducto whatzits, wasn’t it?” he asks.  Gina nods to him, biting her lip.  His jaw hangs open.  “But… I thought it was… illegal… fucking illegal… to use it on a person?  Without permission?  All that legislation stuff Congress was throwing a fit over for like two years?”

                “Trust me,” begins Brian slowly.  “Julia doesn’t give a damn about anything the government has to say about it.”

                “Julia, huh?” drawls Charlie, rubbing his stubble thoughtfully.

                “I take it you’d never met her, huh?” I ask somewhat sarcastically.

                “Nope.  Never seen her in my life until a couple hours ago, or… however the fuck long I was in her pocket, I don’t know,” he says, choking a little on his words upon saying the phrase “I was in her pocket.”

                “Where did she get you?  What was happening?” asks Anna worriedly.  “Do people… know about where you were?”

                Charlie shrugged.  “Afraid not.  Sorry, folks.  I’m guessing that’s how she got all of you, though?  Alibi, no witnesses, the whole shebang?”  We look at each other knowingly, shaking our heads in the affirmative.  “Nope, I was just hanging around by the grocery store, just…” he begins, swallowing hard and looking like he’s having trouble remembering it.  “…just sort of hanging around, you know, and… well, it didn’t take much, but she comes around the corner and asks me to help her carry the grocery bags.  Honestly, I thought it was a little weird that she wasn’t afraid of me or something… I know I look like hell… but whatever, I thought sure, why not, took the bag, and…”

                “Shrunk,” says Kelly simply.  He nods.

                “Yeah, pretty much.  Sort of a blur, but I bet you all know that.  Anyway, I drop, and before I can figure out what the fuck is happening, I feel like there’s tentacles grabbing me, only…”

                “Her fingers,” I add knowledgeably.  He nods again, sniffling uncomfortably.

                “You know the rest of the story now,” he finishes.  We’re all quiet for a moment, then, sighing, we sit down and explain all of Julia’s rules to him.

                I have to admit, having seen the introduction of all of these people to the dollhouse, I’ve never seen anyone handle it so calmly or coolly.  He looks pretty dejected right now (and who wouldn’t?), but all things considered, Charlie seems to be taking things in stride.  I’d bet he’s got a really developed sense of survival, in which case, he’s far better off than any of us.  Retroactively, I sort of envy him.

                Eventually, after about an hour of just laying down the basics, he naturally brings up the idea of possible escape, and we briefly share the harrowing escapade we’ve shared of sending out the email to Beth.

                “God Almighty… wow…” he drawls, shaking his head in bewilderment.  “That’s insane.”

                “Yeah.  We know,” answers Kelly wearily, clasping a hand to her forehead.

                “No, but really… how the hell did that work?  How did you get her to just… drop her defenses like that?  From what you’ve said, she sounds like a tough nut to crack.”

                “Well… we had a little help from our friendly neighborhood heartthrob here,” winks Brian, punching me good-naturedly in the arm.

                “Ahhh… she’s got a… thing for you, or something?” asks Charlie.

                “Um… yeah, I guess so, yeah,” I answer reluctantly.  Charlie studies my expression for a moment before suddenly breaking into raucous laughter, clutching his stomach and doubling over.

                “You okay?” smirks Anna, unsure of how to take this.

                “I’m sorry, I just… I just…” cackles Charlie, getting in words between peals of chuckling.  “It’s just… so… so… ridiculous… I mean, Jesus Christ, she’s fucking co-ed Goliath, and you’re… Tom Thumb, or something, I don’t know.”

                “Yeah, I guess it is… sort of weird,” I answer uncomfortably.

                “I’m just… I’m just trying to picture… how that even works,” he snickers.  “Bet things get kinky when you’re in the sack, huh?”

                “Where are you from, Charlie?  Tell us about you,” cuts in Gina quickly, obviously not at all wanting to get into a discussion about the possibility of Julia and I defying the laws of physics and fucking each other at our current scales.  The only possibility I can think of fills me with absolute dread, because it would obviously involve filling Julia herself with me.

                “Right, right, sorry, I gotcha,” says Charlie, shooting me a blank glance.  “So, you want my life’s story, or the long version?”

                A week goes by, and Charlie actually manages to fit pretty comfortably into our twisted little family.  As it turns out, Julia was in need of another cast member and decided that a random guy who looks a few grocery carts short of a hobo was the ideal addition.  She was right, at least, that no one would really miss him, as Charlie has no living family and keeps mostly to himself aside from his job at the dry cleaner’s.  I don’t know how Julia is able to pick them so easily.  With the kind of perfect accuracy she has choosing new additions to her shrunken slaves collection, you’d think she had a special detector for finding quiet, friendless loners.  Not wanting to cause a ruckus (and not wanting to end up flattened under the spurned heel of Julia’s boot), Charlie set about catching up with the choreography and music for the show, which we filled him in on at night under cover of darkness, and in no time he was ready for the big event.

                “Show night” was a big affair for Julia, who put on one of her nice dresses she normally reserved for our dates in order to look more prepared for the evening, which was as close to a glamorous night of theatrical magic she was ever going to get, considering how terrible her script was.  Once all of us had changed into our costumes, we were brought out of the dollhouse and taken by bus over to the desk, which had been painstakingly prepared by our captor to look spotless.  She even had her video camera and tripod set up to immortalize our performances forever, as well as a few well-placed desk lamps to give us proper lighting in the otherwise dark room.  I’m not entirely sure of why she’s filming it in the first place, since she obviously can’t ever show it to anyone without getting a ticket to the looney bin.

                “Lights… camera… ACTION!” grins Julia from behind her camera, turning it on as all of us traipse out from behind the makeshift stage wings and break into clumsy song.  As we dance in barely adequate unison about before our owner like trained mice in our colorful outfits and tiny doll props, I can make out Julia grinning eagerly at me from behind the camera, even winking at me as I go into my solo.

                It’s as if our entire lives have been building toward this.  We all put on the show of our lives.  As Gina and I, as the young leads, embrace and even kiss, I can almost feel Julia’s envious gaze melting through us, and it’s downright unsettling.  Nevertheless, we push through and get on with questionable dignity remaining.  The musical is a grueling thing, taking over two hours to get all the way through, not including intermission, and by the time it’s over, with all of us sweating and catching our breaths under the bright lights, it’s pretty late at night.  Julia snaps the recorder off and stands up, turning the bedroom lights back on and golf clapping for us.

                “Bravo, class, BRAVO!  Oh… I’m… I can’t even put it into WORDS, it was just so… wonderful!” she gushes happily.  “You all should go to Broadway, you’d be sensations!  Well… okay, maybe there’d be a little problem with the audience seeing you, or getting stamped under a tap shoe, but…” she began, hearing none of us laughing.  She coughs uncomfortably, smiling at us.  “Oh, don’t be so serious, all of you.  That was beautiful.  I can’t wait to watch it and enjoy it all over again.  Now… I’m sure all of you are tired, and so I am, honestly, so… let’s clean up the set and load up into the bus!”

                Gratefully, we all grab up props meant for the dollhouse and head quickly for the bus, loading up and riding back to the house.  One by one, Julia places the other five into the house, saving Charlie and I for last. 

                When she whispers happily into Charlie’s ear, he reaches upward toward her ear and whispers something back, to which she nods, although I can’t hear it.  Finally, she puts him back in, but instead of grabbing me from the table and doing the same, she closes up the dollhouse and closes the closet door behind her. 

                She grins at me and leaves me there, starting back across the room to the storage closet where she keeps her other doll buildings.  I watch her disappear inside and hear her rummaging roughly around through it all before emerging again with a small silver briefcase.  She sets it down on the classroom desk across the room, snaps it open, and removes the thing that ruined my life those two long years ago.

                The portable matter reduction device, in all of its horrendous glory.  I instinctively begin trembling as Julia removes it and presses the “on” switch,” causing a bright blue light to trickle through a few vents along the handle of the device.  She then picks it up and carries it toward me, aiming in my direction.  My stomach nearly flips cleanly over. 

                What the hell is going on?  What have I done to warrant this?  Julia, in fits of rage, often threatens to shrink us even smaller, where our vulnerability only increases tenfold.  The possibilities that open up when you’re one tenth of an inch tall (or, God forbid, smaller than that) are startling.  Being inhaled up a nostril and suffocating in an entanglement of Julia’s snot.  Being inserted into a crevice between two toes and drowning in soggy toejam.  Being placed squarely on a molar and being ground perfectly to fit the space in her tooth.  All of them beyond comprehension and now, not-so-far removed from reality.  I brace myself as Julia calmly pulls the trigger on the device without another word, the reticle trained on me.

                As it happened the first time, I’ve changed sizes before I even have time to register in my mind that some sort of soft ray is emitting its way through my bones.  However, this is different.  Far different.  Rather than watching the world swim upward around me as I shrink, I feel my breath catching in my throat as the table below me wobbles, and I bend over quickly to catch my balance.  Could it be?
                Julia’s just made me larger again?

                It’s not even close to normal height.   I’d guess that I’m about a foot tall if not a little less, making me not even baby-sized to Julia, but as I watch her calmly put the device back in the case, lock it up, and deposit it back in the closet before returning to me, there’s something strangely comforting about being that much closer to normal despite the metaphorical miles of distance I still have to go before reaching it.

                I watch my “girlfriend” striding confidently towards me, my face not even quite level with her knee, her socked feet pounding a vibrating rumble into the ground with each step.  Despite being marginally more capable of taking care of myself, the sight of this still makes my hair curl a little.

                Julia reaches out with both hands, grasping my sides and lifting me up.  She holds me close in a tight embrace, hugging me and swinging me from side to side.  As my legs dangle uneasily, kicking against her stomach, she tightens her arms around me, crushing me hard against her small but nonetheless firm breasts in a hug, which obviously to me might as well be quintuple D’s.  She leans her head down, kissing the top of my head briefly, then releases me, putting a hand under my rear end to hold me up easier, her other hand keeping me from falling.

                Basically, I’m getting manhandled like a toddler right now, but it’s infinitely preferable to the extreme vulnerability of being cradled in Julia’s massive fist.

                “Surprise, my little star,” she sings quietly.  “We’re spending the night together to celebrate the show.  You were… so amazing, and I just… want you to know that I appreciate everything about you, and I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your love, because I’m definitely not.  You… don’t think I am, do you?” asks Julia sheepishly.

                “Of course not,” I smile, laying a hand on one of her arms and feeling shocked at how much physically smaller it feels, despite the fact that Julia’s wrist alone is still massively wider than the thickest part of one of my legs.

                “I’m so glad, baby,” she coos with relief, kissing my forehead a few times.  “I know you must be tired, so… I thought maybe we could… head to bed now?” she asks slowly, eyeing the bed, and suddenly I realize why she decided to make me larger.  My pulse begins to pound.  I need to think fast; this opportunity may not last long, and, despite the fact that I still would have no chance of escaping Julia before being overrun and overpowered by a massive margin, my newfound height is a heavenly advantage.

                “That sounds great, Julia,” I answer.  “You mean… together?”

                She bats an eye seductively.  “Of course, cutie, how else?  Why do you think I made you a teeny bit taller?  I know I’m… still a lot bigger than you, and I hope that’s not a problem for you, but I just kind of like things how they were.  I don’t want things to change too much.”

                “Okay,” I shrug happily.

                “Besides,” she says, a devilish grin on her lips.  “I don’t want you getting any ideas.  Remember I could still totally take you if I had to.  And it wouldn’t be that hard, either.”

                “Right,” I repeat, gulping.  Julia starts off toward the bed.  Slowly, she leans over, sets me down on the mattress, then stands back to her full height, placing her hands on her hips and smirking.  I’m not really sure what to make of this.

                “You know, Jack, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the conversation we had the other day.”

                “Oh?”

                “Mhmmm…” she murmurs, fiddling with the waistline of her skinny jeans, her perfectly blue eyes twinkling with devious delight.  “You know, when we were having the picnic in my backyard?  And, what we said about how Brian and Anna should be free to do whatever they want, because they deserve happiness?”

                “I… think so,” I answer nervously.

                “Well, here’s the thing,” drawls Julia, slipping her thumb down stealthily into her pants.  “The more I thought about it, the more I thought… why can’t WE just… you know, get a little more… intimate.  Because I want to.  God, I… I… I can hardly stand it, I want to…”

                “Julia…”

                “Touch you, Jack,” she moans gently.  “I want to feel you and know that you have the same thoughts about me.  Do you understand?”

                “I think so.  And… listen, Julia, we don’t have to move so fast.  There’s no need to…”

                “Relax.  I’m not talking about what you think I’m talking about,” cuts in Julia, undoing the button on her jeans.  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.  After all, God gave us these bodies that like being touched.  Why shouldn’t we take advantage of a gift like that?”

                “I don’t know,” I gasp dryly as Julia lets the jeans flop to the floor at her ankles, leaving her in only a silky pair of modest white panties.  Her toned runner’s legs are firm and sturdy looking, and it almost makes me nervous to be in the presence of such things of raw unbridled power.  I know she wasn’t kidding; I wouldn’t make it ten feet before those powerful limbs caught up to me and had me pinned under a heavy socked foot, if not something worse.

                Giggling to herself, she kicks her ankle back, letting the jeans fall behind her, and then she leans forward, flopping onto the bed and crouching suddenly over me, letting her t-shirt dangle far enough off of her body that I can see her navel on her smoothly chiseled abdomen.  Her luscious brown hair hanging down like a canopy over me, I swallow hard, utterly overwhelmed as my giant girlfriend kneels before me in nothing but a t-shirt, bra, and thin pair of panties, her deep blue eyes batting seductively at me.

                I can already feel my skin tingling.  No matter how much I’m afraid of Julia, no matter how much more I actually care for Gina, and no matter how much I hate what she’s done to all of us, the sheer overwhelming presence of this towering goddess of a girl with her toned body and beautiful face leering over me like a piece of meat makes me feel faint.  It’s not lust that I’m feeling, certainly, but it’s not fear either.

                Her hand reaches down for me, her fingers slipping up my shirt and tugging it over my head and arms.  “C’mon, baby, let’s loosen up a little… get comfortable… for bed,” she winks, tossing my tiny shirt off to the side of the bed like a piece of trash before resuming staring ravenously at me.  “Oh, God, I don’t know why I didn’t make you bigger before… you look so… good,” she raves.  Obviously, she’s going a bit over the top here, as I’m mostly just a stringy and somewhat malnourished kid, but the years of hardship have toughened me, and I’m actually muscular enough to qualify optimistically at least as “scrappy.”

                “Thank you, Julia, and… so do you,” I swallow uncertainly, knowing I need to play along and maybe even engage a little more.  “Your legs are… are…” I mumble, still legitimately impressed and mesmerized with Julia’s sculpted calves and quads.  Gently, I put a hand on one, feeling its warmth, running my fingers along it and noticing the perfect smoothness of her skin.

                Julia snickers.  “That tickles.  And thank you, baby, I thought you’d like them.  I… well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but whenever I’m on a run, and I feel like I have to stop, I think of you, and how I want to look good for you, and I just kind of… keep on going, and voila!”

                I nod, smiling.  “You’ve certainly done a great job.”

                “Okay, I’m sorry, but…” interrupts Julia.  “Can we just stop with the foreplay here?  I’m getting a little sick of it.”  She doesn’t wait for an answer, and instead reaches forward, grasping my sides again and clasping me against her stomach this time, squeezing so hard I feel my back popping quietly.  My legs dangle low enough that my feet uncomfortably can tap the dangerous outer layer of her panties.  I ensure to stay clear of that area.  Then, smirking down at me, Julia lifts her shirt up and slides me up inside, still pressing me down on my back through the fabric of her shirt.

                I can’t lie.  It feels utterly fantastic.  Julia’s stomach flesh is soft and cool, and as she presses me into it just hard enough to give us both an enjoyable sensation, regardless of guilt, I can feel my crotch beginning to react ever so slightly through my pants.  I turn my head and look upward at Julia’s breasts, cradled heavily in a thick blue bra, and can even see light streaming in from above.  I squint, and am able to make out Julia’s smiling face through the opening above as she continues pressing me with varying pressures against her stomach.  Slowly, she lies back on the bed, still keeping me flattened against herself.  I moan with pleasure under my breath as she does this, pushing particularly hard on my rear end, which of course presses my crotch even more into Julia’s skin through my pants.  Shrugging, I wrap my arms as much as I can around Julia’s toned abdomen and press my face into it, kissing her sweet-smelling skin as exhaustion from the day begins to overtake me.

                “I love you more than you can know, Jack,” she whispers, bringing her hand under her shirt and beginning to stroke my back with her fingers as I fade off to sleep.

                I open my eyes, blinking as I get my bearings again, and it takes me a moment to realize I’m not under Julia’s shirt anymore, I’m just lying in the middle of her mattress, the blanket laid lovingly over the lower half of my body.  Frantically, I reach down, and with relief find that my pants are still on.  At least Julia has that much decency to not go feeling me up when I’m even more vulnerable than usual.  I feel around on the mattress as far as I can reach and realize that Julia didn’t just remove me from her shirt, she’s not even here anymore.  Finally, as my eyes readjust to the darkness, I realize where she is.

                The computer is on, with the dim light spreading with faint neon hues throughout the room, and Julia is seated in front of it at the desk, completely entranced.

                “Julia?” I ask uncertainly into the darkness, but get no response.  She’s that focused.  Confused, I stare over the edge of the bed and consider clambering down in the near-pitch black, but decide to avoid the risk of twisting an ankle and just stay here.

                After a moment of intently listening to the hushed volume of the laptop, I realize that Julia’s watching the recording she made of all of us performing her horrible musical.  Her hands folded neatly in her lap, her eyes locked completely to the screen, I’ve never seen someone quite so engrossed in anything as she is right now.

                Then, something else happens.  Julia’s hands slowly uncross and her left hand descends toward her bare thigh, resting calmly on it for a moment before sliding between her legs.  I’m confused for a moment, squinting as I try to make out what’s going on in the dark.  Julia’s arm stays still for a moment, but soon it begins to move, vibrating slowly from side to side, her wrist rotating rhythmically.  Then, as the singing gets louder and the lights on the screen begin to flash more frantically as the next dance number of the musical kicks in, Julia’s jaw begins to hang open, and, straining my ears, I hear a soft moan of euphoric pleasure escape her titanic lips before the motion of her wrist builds up the intensity.  My eyes boggle in their sockets, and I back up, my knees going weak with a terrible mix of fear and disgust.  It’s like watching a fiery car wreck: so terrible and violent, and yet you can’t tear your eyes away.  I couldn’t believe it.  I didn’t want to believe it.  And yet, here it was, right before me.

                Julia was masturbating to the recording of all of us singing and dancing.

                I feel almost nauseated as I retreat back toward the pillow, my knees shaking as I finally manage to look down and away from the sight before me.

                I’m not sure exactly what it is that troubles me so about this.  I’ve watched Julia torture people with her fingers alone.  Hell, I’ve watched her swallow someone whole.

                And yet somehow, this is separate.  This is in a whole different dimension of broken sanity on Julia’s part.  I can hardly dare to believe it, and yet it makes perfect sense to me.  I’ve always known that Julia loved the smug sense of superiority she could have as she lorded omnipotently over her slaves.  In a horrid, grotesque kind of way, it makes sense that the mere idea of tiny people engaging in an activity she forced them into gives her an intense sexual thrill.

                I almost fall over in fear as I hear the sound of the laptop snapping closed, plunging the room into utter darkness.  I freeze where I stand, as if I had done something wrong just by being awake to witness that.  I swallow hard.  Did Julia see me before she closed the computer?

                What if she did?  Would there be a problem with that?

                Hell, what if there ISN’T a problem with that?  That, as well, could end up badly for me.  Probably worse, in fact.

                I hear the sounds of her bare feet padding confidently across the expanse of her large bedroom in the darkness, growing louder as she gets closer.  I tremble a little at the sound, slowly lowering myself back to the pillow and fearfully clutching the blankets to my body, hoping I can fake being asleep while there’s still a chance to get out of this.

                The sound of Julia’s footsteps stops.

                I can almost hear my heart pounding in my chest as I stare blindly into the pitch blackness of her room, knowing that just above me is a gigantic teenage girl with one of the most twisted senses of lust around eyeing my body with equal parts loving and predatory desire.  My skin practically crawls at the thought.

                I hear her heavy, labored inhalations in the silence.

                I can feel her warm breath wafting down to me.

                Almost as soon as I hear the rushing of wind around me, I feel Julia’s palms clasping against my sides, whipping me upward as I hear her legs plopping down onto the mattress, bouncing both of us slightly for a moment.  As usual, Julia is careful not to harm me when picking me up, but there’s something different in the way she’s holding me right now, her fingers probing curiously around my chest and stomach, gripping my arms and pinning them playfully to my sides.  It’s animalistic.  Almost carnal, even.  She’s toying with me.  Preparing for something.

                Finally, I come to rest, my feet alighting on the soft fabric of Julia’s shirt, and as I try to put more pressure downward to stand up, I feel the firm, somewhat jiggly give below me and realize Julia’s lowering me directly over her breasts.  I quiver as the adrenaline in my brain spikes; I have no idea how to react.  It’s all incredibly overwhelming, and yet my most basic needs and curiosities for physicality are drawing me forward enough that I can keep from panicking as Julia’s palms squeeze harder on my sides.

                I hear the ruffling of the sheets, and a moment later a gentle, warm stream of air being puffed in my direction.  Before she even speaks, I know Julia’s lips are a few inches away from my face.  Softly, she leans in and kisses me before pulling back and exhaling another warm blast.  “Jack… I… I… don’t know what to say to you,” she drawls, her words stilted and unfocused, as if her mind is entirely elsewhere.  If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said she was a little stoned.  “About what you just saw.  Don’t try to tell me you don’t, I know you did.”

                My stomach does about three flips inside me.

                “And I’m glad you did,” she breathes, her words becoming labored and heavy, as if she was jogging while speaking to me.  “Because you see that… I’m not just the girl that wants to take you out on dates and talk to you and cuddle… I… well, I have needs, just like I know you… do too,” she whispers, and I flinch as I feel a huge fingertip in the dark prodding gently at my crotch.  “And we’ve been together long enough.  We both love each other.  I’m… I’m through waiting.  I’ve given you enough time to learn how this works.  And… and now…”

                “Julia, what are you going to…” I begin, but I feel the same fingertip pressing against my mouth to silence me.

                “Shhhhh… now isn’t the time, baby.  I can’t stand it anymore.  I want you to know how much I love you, and… I’m ready to FEEL you and your love for me.  I want to feel that love coursing through my veins and into my heart, and I want to feel it… you… right here, and right now,” she finishes, laying a final kiss on my face before lifting me up from her breasts and lowering me downward along her torso.  Finally catching up with the reality of the situation, I make a meager attempt to squirm out of Julia’s grip, although even at my newly raised height, I’m no match for this extremely determined girl’s firm fingers and palms.  As I kick my legs around, tapping gently at the warm skin of Julia’s body, my foot accidentally brushes along her waist, and a realization reaches my brain, sending me unavoidably into a frenzied trembling.

                Julia isn’t wearing the panties anymore.

                There’s no additional foreplay or preparation.  No time for me to get mentally situated.  Clasping her palm against my back, Julia presses me down, and manages to land most of my lower torso squarely onto the moist, pulsating lips of her pussy, my body flattening the soft, curly bush of pubic hair surrounding it.

                I cringe in surprise, unsure of what to do, although it doesn’t seem that Julia has any intentions of letting me lead here.  Her fingers squirm into my baby pants, tugging at the waistband, and in no time she’s tugged them off, letting them fall off to the side.  Then, I feel her massive fingers snaking into my underwear.  I grasp weakly at her fingers in hopes of discouraging this, but Julia is steadfast, and a cooling, admittedly wonderful sensation shoots through my body as Judy cradles my balls between the soft, fleshy tips of her fingers.  She seems to relish this feeling as much as me, lingering far longer than she needs to, gently kneading my crotch between her fingers as if confirming to herself that it’s real.  Her fingertip traces up and down my member a few times, smoothly and wonderingly.  Undoubtedly, this is the first time Julia has ever laid a finger on a boy’s junk.  Finally, she tugs down at the underwear and flings it off into the darkness, leaving me completely naked and laying atop Julia’s pussy, my legs dangling between her thighs, my arms getting tangled in her miniature forest of hair.

                Gripping my sides, then, Julia begins sliding my body around, positioning me, and I don’t even need to reach the end result to know what she’s going for.  With a wet, tickling sensation, my comparatively puny dick slips into the monstrous, damp maw of her vagina.

                All I can do is shake, feeling the fluids rushing around my crotch and legs, making them sticky with Julia’s preemptive ejaculate, my muscles clenched tightly and unrelentingly, my hands glued into the matted pubic hairs and not allowing me to escape.  Satisfied with my position, Julia’s hand presses down on my back and begins pumping, up and down, forcing us to more or less make love, given the circumstances.  Gradually, as I feel her enormous hips thrusting with more enthusiasm and speed, I feel the force of her palm pressing down harder onto my back.  My dick slides easily around the gooey, tight tunnel of Julia’s pussy.  From up above in the darkness, I hear Julia’s moans of pleasure growing louder and more frequent, while all I can do is remain quiet and shocked in this surreal, dreamlike rape.

                Somehow, I imagined losing my virginity would go a lot differently than this.

                As Julia nears climax, the thrusts of her hand coming faster and harder, her moans becoming more high pitched and almost strained, I feel her fingers tightening around my sides.  Gripping me firmly, I feel her slaking me through the moist bush of pubic hair until my face is directly over her opening, most of my body between Julia’s firm thighs, which quickly close around me, squeezing me and slamming my face down squarely into Julia’s crotch.

                Instinctively spitting a few stray hairs out, I feel Julia’s thumb jamming downward on the back of my head, inserting my face into her sticky, quivering vaginal lips, the bitter residue burning on my tongue as I gasp meekly for breath and squeal in terrified protest, pubic hairs gooey with pre-cum entangling around my neck like seaweed as my head slides into the dank, tight tunnel.  With a final feminine moan and a mighty thrust of her smooth hips, Julia reaches orgasm and another small burst of her ejaculate erupts stickily onto my face and body.  

                I cry softly, wishing so desperately that all of this was over and I could run away with Gina, that I almost can’t breathe anymore.

                I’ve never felt so pathetic in my life, and that’s saying a lot, considering the life I’ve had recently.  I’m still shaking from the ordeal of having my head jammed up Julia’s womanhood, the smell and taste of the squishy skin and damp, sticky liquid releases flashing in my mind like from a nightmare.  The only thing worse being that this nightmare actually took place.  Undoubtedly, the smell of it is still all over me as well, marking me firmly as Julia’s bitch, my head as her personal dildo.  It’s so sickening it makes me want to vomit, and that doesn’t even factor in how mortifyingly disgusting it all felt physically.

                All I can do is lay here on my matchbox bed, my head in Gina’s lap, and cry like a little girl.  I tried to hide it at first, but as soon as I was shrunken back to my standard toy size and we were dropped back in the dollhouse after a day of classes, and I had a moment alone with my friends, the hellish reality of the previous night at my “sleepover” with Julia comes rushing back and I’m falling apart at the seams.

                Gina doesn’t say much.  Occasionally whispering a soft word, she just runs her fingers gently through my hair to soothe me.  It does make worlds of difference to finally be sitting back with the girl I truly have feelings for instead of that giant bitch monster waiting for me just behind a monolithic closet door, but nevertheless, having to hold all this angst up all day without letting on to Julia that I had done anything less but have the sexual thrill of my life last night was stressful, to say the least.

                We’ve been up most of the night here, long after the others went to bed, giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder to quell my state but knowing there’s nothing much they can do to help me out in this situation.  None of that will change the fact that Julia crossed a whole new border last night.  I was raped in every sense of the word, by no less than a pretty, quiet, thin sixteen-year-old girl.  It’s almost unbearable to have to imagine, and yet each moment that I’ve been awake today, all I can do is relive the horrible moments.

                A couple of years ago, I remember, as all teen guys do, having fantasies of my first sexual encounter.  Be it with a girlfriend or wife, or a goddamned celebrity if I was in a creative mood, it was always a private moment of peace and wonderment.  Pleasure in excelsius.  Something to look forward to in my life above most other milestones.

                And instead of the magical event I had always pictured, I had my virginity unceremoniously stripped from me, along with my clothes, and deposited firmly in Julia’s monstrous cunt.

                “Jack… shhh… shhh… it’s over now,” whispers Gina for the first time in an hour or so, still stroking the top of my head.  “I’m here for you.  It’s going to be okay.”

                “I’m sorry, Gina,” I whisper back.  “I feel horrible.  I… I’m supposed to be helping us, and I can’t even handle a… a…”

                “Don’t make it smaller than it is.  What she did was horrible, and just like anything else she’s done.  Any of the other… horrible, horrible things she’s done.  But we’re going to escape soon.  Beth will get the email and do something about it.  I know it.  And you’re going to get us out of here.”

                “How?” I ask painfully.

                “Because I believe in you.  In your spirit, you know?  That’s why I like you so much.”

                I’m silent for a moment.  I appreciate her words truly, and yet hearing them is like adding more weight onto my shoulders.  They all believe this; I know it.  Despite the fact that we all have a part to play in bringing down our cruel owner, we all know that I am the linchpin holding the plan together; if I goof up, we’re all so royally screwed we might as well take a flying leap down the garbage disposal unit, head first, rather than face whatever other punishment Julia can cook up for us.

                “You should go sleep,” I say softly, not knowing where else to go.  Gina sighs.

                “No.  I’m going to stay here until you do.”

                I swallow a lump in my throat.  “Thank you.”

                “You’re welcome,” she says, leaning over and kissing me gently.  “Just relax.”

                My eyes flash open into the pitch black of the room.  I reach over in the dark and find Gina lying next to me, breathing peacefully in her sleep.  I hug myself to her, wanting so desperately for her words to be true.  Wanting to make sure she’ll be okay.  Sighing, I get up as carefully as possible from the matchbox so as not to wake her and pad into the plastic dollhouse hallway.  We obviously don’t have a way of telling time during the night, but I’d venture to guess Julia isn’t going to bring us out to play for another couple of hours.

                I lean against the doorframe, trying to clear my head of all the emotion, pain, and thoughts rushing through and crashing into one another.  After a few moments of this, I hear fingers drumming on the plastic and my eyes dart forward into the darkness.  Just barely, I’m able to make out a figure in the darkness, standing across from me in the plastic hallway.  Taken aback, I step forward.

                “Charlie?” I ask, frowning in confusion.

                “Hey, kid.  Rough night?” he asks calmly.

                “Yeah, sort of.  Can’t really sleep.  You too?”

                “Ahh, I never sleep.  I swear, I’m like a goddamned vampire.  Makes me worried I’ll miss something, ya know?”

                “I… guess so,” I answer quietly.

                “So… you became a man last night, huh?” he asks pleasantly, as simply as if we were discussing recent sports scores.

                “Yeah,” I answer somewhat bitterly, not directed at him and more at the memory of it.

                “Guess it’s not quite the same when you’re about the size of your woman’s finger, huh?”

                “I wouldn’t know,” I answer simply.

                He chuckles.  “Trust me.  Get out of here, and go knock up a woman your own size.  It’s a fuckin’ ball.”

                I rub my temple, admittedly a little put-off by the ease with which Charlie seems to be taking all this, but it’s not his fault.  I’ve just had a rough week.

                A rough couple years, but who’s counting?

                “But listen,” he continues without waiting for me to answer.  “Just tell me something.”

                “What?”

                “What was it like?”

                “Huh?”

                “You know what I mean.  Julia.  Giving her your wood… or, your face, or whatever...  What was it like?”

                I swallow hard, frowning again and wondering if I’m understanding him correctly.  He honestly wants to hear about this?

                “Um… I don’t know.  I wasn’t really giving her my wood, it was more like her… taking it.”

                He laughs again.  “Yeah, I got that part, but I mean… how did it feel?  C’mon, I know it sucked, but you gotta admit: getting in bed with a woman bigger than a house?  It’s something no one else has really done, I’ll betcha.  You’re a lucky man.”

                “I… I’m a what?” I repeat with a little more force, growing uncomfortable with this.

                “You heard me,” he insists.  “A woman so hungry for you she was willing to do all the work: a woman with a slot so big you could stick your whole fucking head up it and probably need a map to find your way out.  I think you need to just have more of an open mind, kid.”

                “I don’t know.  I just… don’t think I was ready.  I mean, this is Julia we’re talking about, remember?” I say cautiously.  “The one who stuck us in here to begin with?  How the hell am I supposed to go into that with an open mind?”

                “Like I do with all the chicks I’ve ever banged,” he seems to shrug.  “Didn’t know ‘em, never saw ‘em again, didn’t want to.  Life sucks the big one, kid, and sometimes you just gotta learn to find the places that make ya feel good to keep from blowing your brains out.  New people, new places…” he drawls almost dreamily.  “New experiences.  And hey, I know Julia’s a bitch, and I know you say she’d kill someone if she felt like it, but you have to admit… she’s one fine piece.  And the size of a fucking Greek goddess, to boot.  All I’m saying is, don’t be afraid to look for the things in life that make it a little better.”

                “Listen, I… feel like I’m gonna try and get some more sleep, okay?” I suggest, wanting out of this conversation.  “See you in the morning, Charlie.”

                “See ya, kid.”

“So, listen, baby,” says Julia calmly, cupping me in her right palm, while casually peeling my clothes off my three-inch body.  “I thought maybe, sometime soon… we’d do something extra special.  I got my driver’s license a couple months ago, you know, and… well, I thought maybe… we’d go somewhere for dinner.  Stop having it just here and see some more of the outside.  Sound good to you?”

                Despite how uncomfortable I feel with being forcibly stripped between Julia’s fingers, the very prospect of actually leaving the property and going back into the real world for a short time is so enticing it allows me to gloss over the present.  Gently, Julia tugs my shirt over my head, then pinches her fingertips around my pants, sliding them down my legs until I’m naked in her palm.  Her fingers move in closer around me, gripping me, as her hand moves closer to her face.  Her thumb comes slowly to rest on top of my dick, pressing down slightly before settling into a steady rhythm of stroking it.

                “It sounds… amazing!” I mumble, somewhat distracted by the fact that I’m currently being jacked off.

                “I thought you’d like it,” she smiles, her vigorousness increasing along with the speed of her soft finger.  Regardless of my better judgment, I actually feel myself getting harder.  “And I think I know what else you like,” she whispers deviously, grinning smugly.

                “I think… so… too…” I gasp, playing the part.

                “Do that thing I like,” softly orders Julia, continuing.

                Perhaps more than is necessary, I go into convulsions as Julia continues caressing my junk with her massive fingertip.  She giggles, squealing quietly with delight, and ups the ante, sliding her thumb between my legs and slipping it up and down against my crotch.  It doesn’t take long for me to actually go into real convulsions as I near climax.  Feeling this change in my muscles between her fingers, Julia gently lets up, flattening me into her palm, and opens her mouth, seductively licking her lips, leaving a fresh gloss on her mouth before opening wide and allowing her snake-like pink tongue to slither out from her lips, writhing and dripping with thick saliva.

                She presses it down hard against my legs and proceeds to lap along my body, spreading her muscular, damp tongue along my entire body, swirling the tip of it as she reaches my waist, ravenously licking and flexing her tongue against my dick.  It’s messy, it’s horrible, it’s emotionally confusing, but there’s only so much you can do to refuse biology’s basic instincts: it feels damned good.  I reach climax, exploding a tiny stream into the hot, dark interior lake of Julia’s spit at the end of her rubbery tongue before going limp in my girlfriend’s palm.  She snickers girlishly, her fingers curling back around my body as her other hand calmly descends to scoop up my clothes.  Raising them up, she lovingly begins pulling my clothes back on for me, dressing me with sparkling eyes like I was her favorite doll rather than her significant other, as I’m still preoccupied with catching my breath.

                “Let’s get you dressed again.  Lunch will be over soon, and we have more class afterward,” she suggests kindly, tugging my pants into place and allowing me to stand up on her palm.  Groggily, I look up at her, nodding.  This has become the new arrangement of sorts.  Although nothing as wild has taken place since the other night when Julia introduced me to her nether regions, “lunchtime” has, for better or for worse, become the mandatory time when Julia whisks me away for a quick fuck.  Admittedly, I’m getting used to it, which I suppose is good for our cause, since I don’t see them going away as long as we’re in Julia’s clutches.

                Hopefully, that won’t be too much longer of a time.

                “Okay, baby, let’s go see the others,” smiles Julia, emerging from the bathroom and heading back to her bedroom with me gripped softly in her fist.  Before entering the door, she brings me back to her lips, this time simply puckering me against her mouth and smacking a kiss wetly onto my face, a triumphant smile on her face as she turns the door handle.

                While it’s good that I’m not exactly breaking down now that I’m getting regularly raped by this titanic teenage girl we all have ample reason to fear will kill us if she feels like it, there’s something in that smile of hers that just makes me feel sunken.  The pure, domineering victory in her face that now, nothing on me is sacred from her.  My junk is her toy to use a tool to assert herself as my owner: free and available to play with whenever she wants.  It’s humbling, to say the least.

                Setting me down on the desk before swinging by the lunch table with the bus to fetch the others, Julia steps toward the door, grasping the handle again and smiling at us all.

                “I need some more supplies for the next lesson, students, so just talk amongst yourselves until I get back,” she grins, exiting the room.  We all breathe a sigh of relief.  Patches of alone time for conversation are always special treats we don’t take lightly.

                “So where were ya, guy?” chuckles Charlie, elbowing me playfully.  “Getting in a lunchtime quickie?”

                “Um…” I mumble, but Gina quickly wraps an arm around me.

                “Don’t make him talk about it,” she asserts.

                He shrugs, nodding knowingly.  “Ahhh… I getcha.  So, you guys are, um…” he mutters, making a clicking sound with his cheeks, obviously insinuating something.

                “Brian, talk to us,” says Kelly, cutting in to avoid the awkwardness.  “The message we sent… I know it had all the information she could need, but…”

                “She’ll get it.  Don’t worry.  It went through,” Brian insists, pacing a little, clearly nervous too about it all.

                “I know that.  I’m not doubting her, don’t get me wrong,” adds Kelly.  “But… I mean, you said she checks her email every few days, and…”

                “I told you.  She’ll see it.  And she’ll know how to handle it.  She’s smart, believe me.  You wouldn’t believe how much shit she talked her way out of with our parents when we were kids.  The way she’s worked her way up the food chain at the fitness center in just a few months because she has good people skills.  Trust me.”

                “I do,” says Kelly, nodding to him as Anna lays an arm across Brian’s shoulder.

                “We do too,” Anna adds with a warm smile, placing a hand on her stomach.  Brian grins proudly, placing a hand on her as well, joy in his eyes.  At this moment, the door to the bedroom opens again and Julia walks in, her laptop gripped in her fingers.  Quickly, we cease our idle chatter and return to our tiny plastic seats without being asked.  Taking a seat at the desk, she wordlessly begins typing on the keyboard, bringing up programs to the screen.

                There’s something off here.  Normally Julia makes eye contact with us whenever possible, a glowering smile on her lips.  Right now, she seems almost to be avoiding us, her movements stiffer and more controlled than usual as she types.

                “Class,” she begins, taking a deep breath, her words sounding a little strained.  “Today, we’re going to have sort of an… impromptu lesson.  I know we don’t learn a whole lot about technology in here, but I figured today was as good a day as any.  See…” she begins, turning the laptop screen around to face us.  “…about a year ago, my parents installed a pretty high-tech security system around the house.  Cameras, a wire around the yard… the works.  Today, I decided we’d play with one of those cameras a little.  Now, here’s the one in the foyer,” she explains, clicking on an icon minimized on the screen that expands, giving us a fuzzy but nonetheless coherent image of the large, marble-floored front hallway of the rich brat’s house.  We examine it with little real interest, nodding obediently as Julia continues by showing us a camera view of the downstairs living room, kitchen, entertainment room, basement, and dining room. 

                All I can do, though, is stare up at Julia’s face, almost blank of expression despite her being in teacher mode right now. 

                It’s wrong.  I don’t know what it is, but it’s wrong.  Something’s up.

                “I thought it might be fun for you guys to try operating the program.  It doesn’t do much, but for the sake of learning, which I know you all love so much, we’re going to have a little fun with it.  Who says you can’t have fun in class, right?” she says with false cheerfulness.  “I’ll show you how to do more in a minute.  Right now, though, I’m supposed to be meeting someone downstairs, who should be here at any… AH, there they are!” she says happily, changing the screen’s view back to the foyer camera.  As well all step closer to the screen, seeing the camera’s view from up in a corner of the room near the ceiling, we can make out a shape through the window of the front door.  A shoulder and a leg, but the rest of the person seems to be obscured by the door.

                A shrill ding-dong sounds through the whole house.

                “We’ll continue the lesson in a few minutes, everyone, but right now, I have to go greet our visitor.  Sit tight for a few more minutes, okay?” she says sweetly, rising and moving purposefully for the bedroom door, closing it behind her.  “And don’t bother playing with the computer.  It’s locked onto that program by password.”

                Instead of talking this time, we all eagerly clamber onto the laptop to view the screen better.  Brian, of course wanting to exhaust all options, makes an attempt to exit the program, but Julia wasn’t bluffing.  Nevertheless, we watch with genuine interest this time as we watch the blurry image on the screen unfold the event before us.

                We get our first ever glimpse of the Mack household’s pepper-haired maid as she titters toward the door, but just as she reaches it, we watch Julia on the screen rushing down into the foyer, pulling the door open and shooing the nodding maid away.

                The woman at the door walks in, smiling and shaking hands with Julia.

                “My God…” drawls Brian weakly, his eyes unblinking.  “That’s Beth.  She’s here.”

                “Oh my… holy shit…” gasps Kelly, cupping her hands over her mouth.  “Are you… are you sure it’s her, Brian?” she asks, more out of shock at reality than actual disbelief.

                “Of course I’m sure,” he insists.  “It’s her.  I’d know her a mile away.”

                We watch silently, eyes glued to the screen, as Julia and Beth chat for a moment.  We strain our ears, trying to make it out, but the camera is simply posted too high.  However, after a couple minutes of this, we see Julia point behind her.  Beth nods, brushing her brunette hair off her forehead and bouncing a tight ponytail, and the pair walk out of the foyer, away from the view of the camera.

                “No!  Wait… wait… which room are they in now?” says Brian nervously, his eyes moving quickly over the screen for the correct button to click on.  Squatting down over the touch pad mouse, Brian skips between the views of the house, which end up counting up at no less than 27 cameras.  At one point, we move to a view of a long hallway, simply designed with nothing more than an elaborate side table with a vase on the side, just as Julia and Beth walk out of view.  Cursing, Brian toggles a few more times until we come to stop on the living room, with its large fireplace, wall-length windows, and large cushy couches, just as Julia and Beth make their way in. 

                Indicating with an extended arm toward the couch, Julia smiles and takes a seat in an armchair while Beth nods appreciatively, sitting on the bench and setting a purse down on the coffee table.  They continue chatting for a few more moments.

                “Why is she just welcoming her in?” asks Gina quietly.  “And… and how did she know she was coming?  Did she… she…”

                “Why can’t we hear anything?” interjects Kelly frantically.

                “Damn it, I can’t hear a thing they’re saying, I…” continues Brian, his eyes catching on something.  “Wait!  She said this was top of the line, right?  There’s a volume control here.”  Moving quickly, Gina clicks and drags on the dial, allowing the camera’s microphone in the living room to pick up more sound.  There’s more crackling feedback, but after a moment it settles, allowing us to hear the conversation.

                “I appreciate you being able to come over on such short notice, Ms. Gardner,” says Julia pleasantly.

                “C’mon, Julia, I’m not THAT much older than you,” says Beth kindly.  “Just call me Beth.”

                “Okay.  Beth.  I’d like that.  Besides, we should try and be friends, right?”

                “Oh, I don’t know if you’re going to want to call me that soon,” says Beth playfully.  “Ask any of my other training clients and they’ll say they don’t like me very much after a workout.”

                Julia laughs good-naturedly; perhaps almost more so than she normally would for hearing something funny.  As if she’s acting.  “Fair enough.  But I guess that’s good, right?  I want to make varsity on the track team next year, and since my parents and I have been talking about hiring a personal trainer to help me get ready here, since we have all equipment , this was… well, it was perfect!”

                “Well, I’m glad I was given your number by the center.  They’d said your parents had called ahead of time, just dropping off the info that you wanted the best trainer they had who was willing to travel, so…”

                “So they sent you,” she smiles.  “It was awesome the way it worked out, you know?  I hope the drive wasn’t too crazy.”

                “Not bad at all.  A few minutes shorter for me than the drive to the fitness center, honestly, so it worked out great,” adds Beth.

                “That’s fantastic,” answers Julia, smiling somewhat falsely.

                Is it possible that everything has finally come to fruition?  Beth seems to be playing along with this perfectly, not a word overacted or gesture overdone.  Something about seeing her on the camera fills me with hope.  Our freedom might be within our grasp.

                As my eyes scan over the camera angle, I notice something odd.  I’m not sure why it’s so troubling to me.  An oddly box-shaped corner poking out from under the coffee table near Julia’s feet.  Something about it feels about as much out of place as Julia’s overly sweet tones. 

                “So, would you like to set up a workout schedule?  Something pretty regular so we can get you on a good regime?” asks Beth nicely, crossing an extremely toned right leg over her knee, placing her clasped hands on top politely.

                “Sounds good to me,” smiles back Julia, leaning over under the table.  “I keep my calendar on a device that’s kind of old, so you’re probably going to laugh at me.”

                “Oh, nonsense,” chuckles Beth.  “Believe me, I’ve seen it all at the center; I train people in their seventies over there, and they swear by keeping dates on little notepads they just leave in their jackets.”

                “Well, even so…” begins Julia, lifting a small silver briefcase up from under the table and putting it in her lap.  “This is still pretty different.”  Snapping the lid open and rummaging around inside, Julia lifts the portable matter reduction device out of its case, mechanism already turned on and primed, the lights blinking rapidly.

                “That… that…” gasps Beth, mumbling, her eyes widening.  She quickly uncrosses her leg, standing up and taking a step back.  “That’s one of those… those…”

                “Where are you going, Beth?” asks Julia calmly, raising her hands and pointing the device’s reticle squarely at Brian’s sister.  “We have so much to discuss, you know.”

                “Oh my G-” mutters Beth, frozen in place, as the green lights flash brighter.  Her muscles contracting, Beth’s legs seem to go flimsy and she flops back onto the couch, and barely a moment later we’re watching a sight none of us have ever actually witnessed.  Beth’s body seems to be contracting into itself, with what looks like small heat waves emanating out from her sides as the woman curls up and plops onto the couch cushion in a matter of seconds at a size so small we can barely make her out with the camera.  We hear a tiny voice screaming loud and clear, though.

                Raising her head to the camera, Julia looks us squarely in the eye.

                She smiles.

                “NOOOOO!” screams Brian at the top of his lungs, rushing forward toward the computer screen.  “JESUS MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST, NO!  PLEASE, GOD, NO!” he roars, smashing his fists so hard against the screen it looks like a couple of the pixels are crackling out.  His arms shaking, his body convulsing, Brian collapses to his knees.  Anna rushes forward, wrapping her arms around Brian, but he isn’t looking like he’s going to be consoled anytime soon.

                “Oh my God…” mumbles Kelly weakly, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.  I look over at Gina, who looks similarly frozen in place.

                Few times, I think, have any of us felt this helpless.  We watch, our hearts pounding wildly in our chests, as Julia calmly packs the matter reduction device back into its case, then stands up and strides over to the couch, where Beth’s tiny form is still sprawled so vulnerably.  Reaching down with a smug grin on her face, the teen snatches up her personal trainer in her palm, wrapping her fingers roughly around her body, and stands back up before exiting the living room.

                “OH, FUCK, NO… NO… IT’S… IT’S GOTTA BE A DREAM!” shouts Brian hysterically, unable to contain himself.  “A GODDAMN NIGHTMARE!  NO, NO, NO, NO…”

                I can already feel the dread building up like pressure inside my brain, clouding my vision with fear and unknown.  At this moment, a cold void seems to have opened up.  Any amount of time into the future we had planned out was literally just cut off.  Now, we’re in uncharted territory.  The ball was just put squarely back in Julia’s court, and I don’t think she’s ever going to give it back to us.

                The door opens slowly with an ominous creek as Julia re-enters the bedroom, striding powerfully over the desk, where she sits down and opens her palm over us, allowing Beth to topple downward with a terrified scream.

                Brian leaps to her, helping her up and wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

                “BRIAN… Oh, Jesus Christ, Brian… it was real… it was real,” cries Beth, her eyes welling with tears, her voice choking off.  “The email.  I wasn’t crazy…”

                “Yes, Beth, it was real.  I’m alive.  I’m still here.”

                “I’m so sorry,” wheezes Beth, the rush of emotions understandably too much to handle at the moment.  The reunion of the siblings doesn’t last long, though, as Julia’s hand lowers back down toward the table, palm up.

                “Get in, Beth,” orders Julia coldly.

                “You keep your FUCKING HANDS AWAY FROM HER!” screams Brian, throwing himself in front of Beth, who shrieks as Julia’s monumental fingers slide forward toward them on the table.  Julia’s eyes narrow, her brow furrowing.

                “I’ll deal with you later, you stupid little shit,” growls Julia, flicking her fingers out at Brian once again, sending him flinging backward like a human pinball.  The force of Julia’s fingers looks much more powerful than the last time, though, and Brian lands at the back of the classroom under a desk, moaning in agony.  “Now.  I’ll say it one more time… you little fucking liar, you,” hisses Julia at Beth, who can do nothing but tremble violently at the knees.  “I want your stupid little body in the palm of my hand in three seconds.  Three… two…”

                Bursting into heavy tears, Beth forces herself somehow to move forward despite what I would assume is soul-bending, piss-dribbling terror she’s experiencing right now, and climbs over the fleshy step of Julia’s fingers toward her palm.

                “Beth… no… don’t do it…” mumbles Brian, scrambling dizzily to his feet as he regains awareness.

                “Don’t listen to him, Beth, just listen to me.  Trust me.  I’m the IMPORTANT one to you right now, got it?” threatens Julia through bared teeth, her fingers snaking around Beth’s body and squeezing.  Brian’s sister shrieks in pain, squirming fruitlessly against the sixteen-year-old’s iron grip.  Through the tears and heavy breathing, Beth manages to enthusiastically shake her head “yes.”

                “Good.  Now.  I have some questions for you, and you’re going to answer them all honestly, or I swear to God, I will peel your skin off with a fucking butter knife.”

                “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” screams Beth.

                “Who knows you’re here?”

                “NOBODY!”

                “Don’t lie to me,” hisses Julia, her fingers contracting tighter around Beth’s tiny body.  “You’re working today, you must’ve told someone you were coming.”

                “OKAY, OKAY, JUST MY BOSS!” relents Beth.  “I TOLD HIM I WAS SEEING A NEW CLIENT IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD!  NOT YOUR ADDRESS!”

                “Where’s your car?”

                “BACK AT THE CENTER!  I TOLD HIM I WAS TAKING THE BUS OVER HERE!”

                “Stop shouting,” orders Julia resolutely, giving her captive an extra squeeze that causes Beth to moan as her sore body receives another beating.  “Do you have a phone?  Your car keys?”

                “The COFFEE table, downstairs!  All in my purse!” she shrieks, fighting back the urge to scream again.  Her words seem almost to be faltering, as if she’s ready to faint.

                “Don’t give out on me yet, little bitch.  We’re not done here,” says Julia icily, nothing but cold indifference to Beth’s existence in her eyes.  “If anything you just said isn’t true, I…”

                “IT’S THE TRUTH, I SWEAR!  JUST… PLEASE DON’T HURT ME, OR THEM, OR…”

                “I think that’s enough out of you for now, Beth,” comments Julia casually, placing a thumb firmly over the tiny woman’s face, silencing her for the moment.  She looks down upon us, glaring, daggers practically firing from her eyes.  “It’s shame, really, you know,” she says quietly near Beth’s ear.  “If things had been different, I bet I would’ve loved training with you.  You seem really nice.”

                “JULIA, SHE’S NOT INVOLVED WITH THIS, JUST LET HER GO!” cries Brian, by now having dragged himself nearer to Julia’s towering torso at the edge of the desk.

                “Of course she’s involved,” responds Julia simply with a shrug.  “And guess what?  You involved her, Brian.  You were the ones who contacted her… I’m guessing by email…  and dragged her here yourselves.  She came here to try and take MY property,” growls Julia authoritatively.  “And by rights, then, she forfeits herself to me.  Now… she’s mine, too.”

                “NO!  GODDAMN IT, LET HER GO!” cries Brian.

                “Brian, you’re going to run out of places for me to bruise reeeeeeal quickly if you don’t shut up soon,” snarls Julia down at him, but he seems undeterred, standing his ground and raising a fist up toward Julia.   

                “Do whatever you want with me.  Anything.  I’ll be quiet and take it,” pleads Brian, his voice becoming more desperate.
                “Oh, I know you will.  Believe me.  Don’t worry, we’re getting there, Brian,” insists Julia with a devilish grin on her moist lips, still twiddling Beth idly like a toy between her fingers, pushing her tiny body against her wide palm.  “Starting right now.”

                “Please, just let her go, I’ll do anything… anything, I…”

                “Yes.  I know you’ll do anything, Brian.  All of you will,” the giant teen says darkly, casting a glare over all of us.  “And that’s the problem.  You don’t understand yet.  Somehow, I’ve failed you all.  I haven’t made myself clear enough.  You do things like this, and it’s going to come back and hurt you in the end because you still haven’t accepted that you belong to me.”

                “I’ll accept it.  Whatever you fucking want, Julia, just please… please, I’m begging you,” gasps Brian, falling to his knees and clasping his hands together as if in prayer.  The tears are still flowing down his face, although for a different reason now.

                “There’s nothing you can really do, Brian, because like I said, it’s my fault for not making it clear, and so, I’m inclined to give you one more chance.  One more chance to prove to me that you’re willing to give up all this bullshit about getting away from me and just accept it once and for all.”

                “Oh… oh, thank you, Julia,” sighs Brian, sounding more relieved than I’ve ever heard him before.

                “But,” sighs Julia sadly, glancing back at Beth still clasped powerlessly in her hand.  “I already have the perfect family here.  I love all of you and want you to learn to be good, obedient little pets.  But… Beth here is… well, she’s an outsider.”

                “No… she’s not… she can be here, too, Julia, just please… leave her alone,” bargains Beth’s brother in desperation, at this point willing to settle for any alternative to what’s being implied.

                “I’m sorry about this, Beth,” says Julia, shrugging and ignoring Brian as she finally removes her thumb from Beth’s face, who proceeds to continue screaming incoherently.  “One girl to another, I am really sorry. You’re beautiful, and sweet, and I’m sure you’ve got a lot of friends… probably a boyfriend, too.  A life out there.  You can thank your brother and all these other little worms for getting you into this.  But what I want is them, and to make myself clear to them, I’m afraid I have a tough call to make here.”

                Without another word to any of us, Julia begins plucking at Beth’s clothes, snatching them off in her giant fingertips and flinging them onto the desk, leaving the cold, naked, terrified woman sprawled in her soft palm a moment later.

                “HEY!  STOP IT!” screams Brian, becoming louder again, but his cries go completely ignored.

                “You really are well-endowed, aren’t you, girl?” giggles Julia, poking playfully at Beth’s breasts.  “I really am sorry that you got pulled into my business, Beth.  I hope you can forgive me someday, wherever you are,” sighs Julia, allowing the hand holding Beth to slide to the side of the chair, roughly two stories above the ground for someone our size.  Then, her gargantuan fingers release, letting the screaming, nude Beth topple out of the fleshy palm and fly toward the carpet at an alarming rate.

                “NO!  OH MY GOD, NO!  JESUS CHRIST, YOU… YOU…” roars Brian, the rage and angst mixing, running toward the edge of the desk and peering over the side.  The rest of us, our faces all a pale ghostly white, quickly follow suit, seeing Beth’s body sprawled painfully at the bottom, quivering slightly.  “BETH!  SAY SOMETHING!”

                “I don’t think that’d be a good idea, Brian,” comments Julia, leaning over toward the ground for a better look.  “She might’ve broken something and talking would probably hurt then.”

                Slowly, we see Beth, crying meekly, pulling herself into a crouching position, but she topples over on her ankle, screaming and clutching it in pain.  Resolved, she begins crawling at a snail’s pace along the carpet, dragging herself along, her legs seemingly broken, cries of agony escaping her tiny lips.

                Meanwhile, out of the corner of my eye, I see Julia’s fingers slipping into her silver sequined flats behind the heel, allowing her smooth bare foot to emerge from the shoe.  Wriggling her mighty toes a few times to air them out, she arches her titanic foot, raising it off the ground, and then slowly starts moving it closer and closer to Beth, like a shark closing in on a guppy.

                A shadow of Julia’s massive foot, each individual toe squirming in gleeful expectation, casts itself over Beth as she desperately crawls forward at a hopelessly slow pace.

                “OH, FUCKING GOD, NO, NO, NO!  DON’T DO IT, JULIA, PLEASE, I’LL DO ANYTHING!  ANYTHING!” screams Brian, his voice going hoarse, his muscles becoming weak.

                “Where do you think you’re going, hmmm?  Little wormy?  Trying to crawl away from me?” says Julia perkily, lowering her foot toward her victim.  Slowly, I watch her monstrous toes curl downward, sliding Beth’s head easily between her fleshy digits and gripping it tightly, to which Beth responds by thrashing wildly with her arms and moaning in pain.

                Purposefully, then, Julia plants the ball of her foot against the carpet, arching her pale, wrinkled sole upward so that the full force of her foot is threatening to press downward onto Brian’s sister, pinned helplessly under Julia’s bare foot, her poor head being squeezed mercilessly between two powerful, unrelenting toes.

                “Stop fighting, wormy, or I’ll squeeze your brains right out of your skull with my big toe!” snickers Julia, although at the same time with an unforgiving air of dictatorial power that we know she’s being perfectly serious.  To drive her point home, Julia lifts her foot off the ground ever so slightly before slamming it back down onto the carpet, flattening Beth’s legs underneath the ball of her foot.  We hear a sharp snapping sound as no-doubt more of the bones in Beth’s legs are broken.  Another shrill scream erupts from Beth far below.

                “Oh, stop whining,” snarls our teenage owner down at Beth.  “You already broke ‘em falling down, like, a foot away from the ground.  It’s not like you can still use them.”

                “JULIA, STOP THIS, SHE DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS, SHE JUST WANTED TO HELP US!” cries Kelly, standing up and breaking her own silence at last.

                “You’re right,” agrees Julia, twisting the heavy ball of her foot down on top of the screaming Beth’s legs, just to make sure everything inside them is pulverized.  “And in a way, she is.  Because I’ll bet none of you are going to forget this for a long time.”

                Watching all of our stunned, silenced expressions with glee, Julia returns her attention down to the tiny woman writhing like a dying bug between her toes and smiles, tilting her head curiously.

                “Still doin’ okay down there, Beth?  Haven’t had enough yet, huh?  Let’s just go for a ride,” she concludes, gripping her toes more tightly around Beth’s head, who seems to have, out of sheer pain, given up the useless thrashing escape attempt.  With her monstrous, fleshy toes practically choking Beth around the neck, Julia proceeds to drag her foot along the carpet, turning her swivel chair one rotation, no-doubt giving Beth some very serious carpet burns as she grinds her vulnerable, broken naked body down against the ground under the immense weight of her bare foot.  Sure enough, as Julia ends the rotation and finally releases the firm grip of her toes from Beth’s neck, allowing Brian’s sister to roll over painfully on the ground, I see massive, bloody streaks along her entire body just from the coarse grinding of the carpet.

                I can hardly believe my eyes.  Sure, I’ve seen Julia swallow Jim before, but that was quick and efficient, nothing like this.  Julia’s toying with her prey tortuously and with impunity, while wearing the most demonically empowered smile I’ve ever seen cross the lips of a cute teenage girl, or any human being, for that matter.

                “You see,” says Julia without looking at us, leaning down and plucking the weak form of Beth’s barely breathing body up from the carpet by a leg between her thumb and forefinger.  “When you make a choice, it doesn’t just affect you.  It affects everyone around you.  It’s not always fair, sure, but that’s how it works.  You have to think about these things before you do them.  Who’s involved, what will happen to everyone… and then you have to learn to live with those choices.  The consequences.”
                Dangling Beth’s barely conscious body above all of us by Julia’s mammoth fingers, we all go silent.  Even Brian.  He’s simply out of things to say.  Sweat and tears drenching his and our bodies as well, our hearts railing against our ribcages, we stare on, praying silently for a sign that this is just a horrible nightmare we’re all experiencing at the same time.  It’s literally all we have left, standing so helplessly down on this desk with nothing but the promise of mortal injury awaiting us if we so much as raise our voices again while watching this kind, innocent woman brutalized just because she tried to save us.

                “And now, this will be your consequence.  All of you.  Watch this and remember that it was you all who brought her here,” orders Julia, her lips parting, her tongue wriggling from its soggy hovel.  We watch, jaws dropped, hearts wrenched, as Julia, without another moment of delay, wads Beth’s mangled body between her lips and over her teeth.

                “No… please… I didn’t do anything w-w-wrong…” we hear Beth croaking painfully as Julia lays the woman on top of her massive, soggy tongue, which instantly tubes around her puny body as if inviting her into a new home.

                Julia pays no attention, closing her lips and sealing Beth inside the hellish cave of her mouth.

                She closes her eyes, moaning softly with pleasure as she savors the tiny woman’s taste.

                The room goes so silent you could almost hear a fly buzzing in another state.

                Julia’s cheeks inflate, and then her jaw contracts.  A soft, wet popping sound, followed by crunching as Julia begins to chew.  A slurping gargle of liquid along Julia’s gums echoes through our eardrums.  A single drop of blood dribbles between Julia’s closed lips, but her crimson-stained tongue laps out and catches it before it can roll down her chin.  She sighs with delight as if sampling some delicious new dish, slurping up Beth’s spilled innards and sucking on them against her puffed cheeks and then, inhaling heavily through her nose, she swallows loudly and dramatically, patting her throat with happiness as Beth’s broken corpse slides down toward her stomach.

                Inside my head, I can hear myself screaming, but no sound escapes my cold lips.  I can hardly feel my limbs anymore as numbness shoots through me.

                I glance to Brian, watching his glazed-over eyes locked blankly up at the massive face of the psychotic sixteen-year-old who just murdered his innocent sister between her teeth.  He looks to be in shock, as do the others.

                Julia swishes around her mouth one more time, probably to get up the excess of Beth’s pulpy remains, licking her jaw and leaving a tiny blood smear along her plump lower lip before swallowing hard again.  She sighs with satisfaction, placing a hand on her stomach and rubbing it in a circular motion.

                “She was a delicious appetizer before dinner, Brian.  Step out of line one more time and maybe I’ll give you a try, too.  Make you my main course.  I’d bet good taste runs in your family,” states Julia, fighting back the giggling at her pun, but quickly narrows her eyes as she looks down upon all of us.  “But don’t think I don’t want to try your flavors, too.  Especially you, Anna,” she says, raising an eyebrow and causing Anna to flinch out of her state of shock.  “I’ll bet you’re just all the sweeter with that little maggot growing inside of you.”

                There’s dead silence for a moment.  Absolute dead silence.

                All I can feel is freezing chills in my bones and bloodstream.

                Julia crosses her arms, taking a seat, and simply observes for a moment, swiping her tongue back across her bloodstained lower lip, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head expectantly at us.  Daring us to make a move.  Wanting to see us make some kind of show of rage at what she just did to a helpless outsider who had no idea what she was getting herself into.

                And we do nothing.  I know if any of us move, we’d probably piss our pants and die of a heart attack before Julia even had a chance to curl a menacing finger around our necks to snap them like twigs in the breeze.  So, we remain silent, our souls screaming for release, our bodies tensed, our hearts pounding wildly.  But we say nothing.

                Nothing.

                Goddamn, what are we?  We can’t possibly still be human.

                “You all disgust me,” snarls Julia at long last, breaking the silence of what feels like hours, even though it’s probably only a few minutes.  She wrinkles her cute nose up, her upper lip rippling, and she idly taps a finger against her shoulder, her eyes glued to all of us.  “I’ve given you everything.  EVERYTHING.  Everything I have to give.  A home.  Food.  Clothes.  School.  A… a life.  And… and how do you repay me?” she continues, and I can almost hear a crack in her voice.  Almost like she’s ready to cry.  She glares at us some more, shaking her head.  “You betray me.  All of you… all of you who were here before… and… and, taking advantage of me like that… when Jack was sick, and you all just… just…” she mumbles, hardly able to fathom it.

                Julia slams a fist down on the desk, toppling us all over onto our backs, where we remain, cowering as the rage continues bubbling up inside the sixteen-year-old giant girl.

                “I LOVE HIM!  I LOVE HIM, AND NONE OF YOU STUPID LITTLE WORMS ARE GOING TO USE THAT AGAINST ME!” she screeches, a few tears trickling down her cheeks.  “And you know what?  I’ve realized something.  I… I tried treating you like human beings.  Clothes, cleaning, a bed, all the food you could want, activities… and you threw it back in my face, because you’re all just a bunch of stupid… ungrateful… little… fuckers,” growls Julia, a few tiny globs of spit spraying from her teeth as she gnashes them wrathfully at us.

                She wipes a hand across her lips, the spittle bubbles and the darkening blood of all that remains from Beth smearing together across Julia’s knuckle.

                “So… there’s gonna be some changes around here now,” she says solemnly, pursing her lips angrily.  “You can’t stand being treated like human beings?  Fine.  Then I’ll treat you like what you are.  Pets.  MY pets.  Now don’t move, any of you, or you’ll be joining Beth on a one-way trip out my butt,” growls Julia with a kind of slimy darkness that makes us want to hurl, clacking her teeth together one more time before moving swiftly out of her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

                We remain silent.  Gina clasps her hand against mine.  Kelly, seemingly going weak in the knees, crouches down, staring, devoid of visible emotion, at the desktop.  Anna begins sobbing silently, clutching herself to Brian in an embrace.  Brian himself seems to be still in shock, his whole body tensed and frozen in place, still staring up at the place where his sister died high above our heads.

                I turn around.  Charlie looks ashen and fazed, certainly, but he seems calm.  At ease, almost.

                It frightens me to imagine what sorts of experiences in his life have allowed him to view all this carnage without so much as a tremble.

                Minutes pass and still nothing is said.  We can’t.  Probably because if any of us did, we’d simultaneously start crying and vomiting.  There’s nothing to say.  Nothing to fight for right now.   No reason to move.  No time to mourn Beth’s death.

                No hope.

                Julia arrives back after what feels to us like a cold eternity of silence and pain, frozen in our respective positions.  We are shaken out of our stupor, however, when we hear a loud clacking sound of glass bases smashing against the wooden desktop.  Gina and I release each other’s hands, afraid of being seen.  We turn to see Julia laying down a small armload of empty jelly jars on the table.

                Five.  Almost the same number as there are of us.

                “You all refused to listen… after all the warnings I gave you, after all the chances… and you still didn’t learn.  Well, now, I think…” sighs Julia with a demonically triumphant grin as she brandishes one of the jars in her hand, unscrewing the lid.  “…after you spend some time in your new little cages, you’ll see just how nice I was treating you before.  No more school.  No more baths.  No more house.  You’re going to sit in here until you’ve learned how things work around here.  And then… someday… when you’re all groveling in here, begging for a breath of fresh air, begging to worship the ground I walk on and I BELIEVE it in your voice… then maybe you can taste the good life again.  But until then…” continues Julia, removing the first jar lid and setting it down on the desk.

                From the looks of it, a knife was jammed through the lid four or five times to give us some oxygen.  The slits are tiny: probably just enough to make sure we don’t suffocate.

                “First things first.  You’re not people anymore.  You don’t want to be.  You’ve made that very clear to me.  You’re just animals now.  And you know what animals are?”

                Oh, God, no.  No.

                “Naked,” she insists, raising an eyebrow.  “Everyone strip down and lay your clothes down on the desk.  You won’t be needing them anymore.”

                We all pause, partly out of some inexplicable disbelief at what she’s saying and partly still out of our numbed emotions, but we aren’t given much time to recover.

                “Off now,” hisses Julia in a voice so throaty and fiery all we want to do is run as fast as we can in the other direction until our lungs give out, but we know such a thing would only result in more pain.  Our minds still off in some PTSD dream world, we comply, stripping quickly and robotically, kicking our clothes forward in front of us until all six of us are completely nude.  Somehow, we aren’t even embarrassed to be exposed in front of one another, after all we’ve been through.  All we can feel is emptiness right now.

                “Good, pets,” coos Julia, her voice becoming much nicer now that we’re doing her bidding, one of our last lines of mental defense finally coming down.  She scoops all of our clothes into her hands and sweeps them off with her fingers right into the wastebasket that sits next to her desk, closing the lid with a satisfied slap of finality.

                She’s not done yet, though.

                Without even waiting to ask anyone to get into her hand, Julia’s pointer finger and thumb pinch around Brian’s body, plucking him unceremoniously from the table.  She lowers her hand into the opening of a jar, releasing him and allowing him to tumble to the bottom.  He remains flopped on his side, unwilling to expend the energy necessary to pull himself up.  Smirking with delight at his state, Julia screws the lid back on Brian’s jar, and reaches down for Anna.

                A few minutes later, everyone but me has been placed in a new glass home.  I nod to the fearful Gina, who looks on the verge of tears finally, but manages to hold it back a bit longer as Julia grips her in her huge fleshy fingers and flicks her with what looks like added force into the base of the jelly jar.  I cringe, hardly daring to watch, knowing there’s nothing I can do.

                Finally, turning back to me, Julia stares down with a look of pity and sadness, something I haven’t seen in a while from her.  Certainly not today.  Looking up at the cute, earnest face of this sixteen-year-old, it’s almost impossible to believe she just brutally tortured and murdered an innocent young woman not ten minutes ago.  And yet the liquid, crusted evidence of it lies caked on her lip and knuckle.

                “I’m so sorry you had to see all that, Jack.  I’m so sorry… that… you’ve had to live with animals like them… taking advantage of what we have,” she sighed, her hand extending toward me, her warm fingers wrapping around my cold, shivering body.  “But look at it this way: now that you don’t have to worry about them anymore, we can spend… ALL our time together,” she says softly, batting her eyelashes somewhat seductively at me and brushing a thick, dark lock out of her eyes as she brings the fist holding me up to eye level.  “Now, I’m sorry about this, but I kind of need to get cleaned up, just so no one sees what I had to do… and I don’t want to leave you alone already, so…”

                “It’s fine, Julia,” I manage to croak out somehow.  The girl herself seems startled at my speaking.

                “No, no… no… it’s not, Jack,” she stammers passionately.  “We’ve promised ourselves to each other.  You deserve better than what I’ve put you through.  And I’m going to make it up to you.  Right… now…” she smiles, her other hand lowering toward her waist.  Cautiously, I peer over the edge of her palm and watch as her hand fumbles with the waistband before tugging it and the thread rim of her panties forward, allowing me a view into the dark nether region behind.

                “Love you, baby,” she whispers, planting a quick kiss on my face, and lowering her hand toward her waist.  Tipping her palm, she allows me to tumble down just as she lets the soft panties snap back into place, entangling me back into her pubic hair and swollen flesh as she begins walking away from the desk.

                In my moments of solitude, I often start thinking about one of the greatest fundamental flaws in the universe.

                There’s no guaranteed escape button.

                No end-all eject from existence.  Sure, there are ways out, but if you’re in the wrong position, like I am, that button is not in reach.  You’d think that would be something a person, one of the most complicated things in the universe, would have if things descended too low into chaos.

                Hell, even someone who makes computers knows you need one of those.  When you’ve got a virus eating away at your system and no way to stop it at the time, the best you can hope for is just shutting the goddamn thing down and crossing your fingers that you did it in time. 

                All the times I was dragged to church by the fosters, I’d had it hammered into me that God is running this flawless system, but people sort of screwed it up, and continue to screw it up.  That may be so, but the part that I can’t get past is that sometimes, no matter how hard you try to work for the good, you still get fucked over and can’t reach that escape button.  All you can do then is exist in a dark void of being where nothing really seems to matter in the slightest.  If you ask me, that’s a very serious mistake in the design.

                Why couldn’t God design the universe more like a computer?

                Am I going insane?

                Am I already insane?

                No.  I’m just aware.

                Well, okay, maybe I am a little bit.

                But what does it matter anymore?

                I shiver a little for no reason in particular.  Maybe to remind myself that I can feel.  That’s mostly all I have left that belongs to me.  Certainly nothing physical on my body actually still belongs to me.

                My arms and legs are stretched out as far as they can reach in all directions, my face laid on its side, my entire naked body plastered neatly on top of Julia’s equally naked bare foot, encapsulated by the all-encompassing hovel of her fur-lined leather boot.  As I tremble, I can almost feel the warmth from Julia’s skin rising up into my body, nourishing me.

                Keeping me well-distanced from that escape button.

                If there even is one.

                I feel my girlfriend’s foot shifting slightly forward in the boot, the ball of her foot rubbing against the sweat-slicked velvet insole with a dull squeak that causes my awareness to quicken.  With my entire body pressed firmly against the smooth slope on the upper half of her appendage, I can feel every motion in Julia’s body.  The barely malleable indentations in her flesh as I shift slightly in my tight prison.  The pumping of tiny, intermingling muscles below the skin working tirelessly just to push her foot forward a few inches in her boot, probably as she leans back in her chair at school.

                Julia’s ankle shifts backward a little, allowing a few precious rays of artificial light from ceiling fluorescents to seep into the furry cave I find myself lodged uncomfortably in.  I watch the light break through shadow, following the barely visible rise of smooth veins running along the top of Julia’s foot like a roadmap, all the way to me.  I see my pathetically small hands clinging as tightly to the skin of my goddess’s foot as I can, and almost feel surprised to see them. 

                For a moment, the idle thought crosses my mind to clamber up the slope of the giant foot and attempt to crawl up into the light.  Just for a moment.  Just so my eyes could adjust to the warm glow out there again.  Just so I could escape the muggy environment clouding my face like a plague.  Just so I could inhale a fresh breath of air and be momentarily rid of the overpowering stale stench of grime and sticky dried sweat clinging to the doughy flesh that surrounds me like a plateau of decay.  Julia only put me in here a few hours ago, but with how thoroughly I’ve been swallowed by the silence and darkness, left to fester in my own mind, it might as well have been a few years.  It’s the same routine as usual.

                Foolish, of course.  And pointless.  Julia would feel her passenger moving, and the moment I showed a single millimeter of myself, I would find a monstrous thumb jamming down on my head, roughly inserting me back into my place.

                Still, the promise of light and cool is tantalizing and tempts me like water to a man lost in the desert.  My throat dry, my eyes blinking uncertainly a few times, I begin to drag myself further up Julia’s foot.  There’s not much room to operate, with the heavy buffer of gray, silky fur bearing down on me like bushes, but with some effort, I manage to pull myself higher.  Wrapping my legs as far as they will reach around Julia’s ankle, I turn my face upward.

                The light is almost blinding, but it feels good as it hits my face, the coolness settling on my skin as well.  I inhale slowly, savoring the neutral flavor of the air, even noticing a few other enticing discoveries making their way across Julia’s classroom in small traces.  A flowery perfume.  A sporty deodorant.  A smeared grass stain.  All wonderful.  All new.  All short-lived.

                I blink and find myself staring up at Julia’s bemused face.  She raises an eyebrow at me subtly, not quite making eye contact for fear of attracting attention, but knowing she has to get me down further in case something goes wrong.  Her hand comes lower and lower, blocking out my beautiful light I was so enjoying.  I swallow hard as her firm fingers wrap around me in a cocoon of flesh and burrow me back down into the darkness of the boot.

                I sigh, accepting it for now.  Despite ending my illegal little peep from the black and damp recesses of her boot, Julia seems calm, her cool fingers handling me gently, her fingertips trying awkwardly to caress me as she continues pushing me further and further down into the boot until I feel my rear end bump against the rounded toe section of the boot.

                As the gigantic fingers of my forced lover slide out carefully from below me, I feel my legs swinging down and landing roughly on the smooth, bulbous digits taking up residence there.  I have no chance.  Obviously in a playful mood, Julia arches her toes around me and easily snags one of my legs between two of the dexterous piggies, instantly snapping them back down and curling inward against the slick base of the boot.

                With a short gasp, I find myself sliding half-buried under Julia’s heavy toes as they begin tapping gently against my face and torso. 

                Soft.  Smooth.  Warm.  Almost inviting.

                And yet I can’t remember what I saw happen however long ago to Beth by these very toes, gripping the poor, defenseless woman and dragging her violently across the carpet until her entire body was covered in bloody burns from the ride.

                How long ago was it, even?  It seems like it might be disrespectful to have already forgotten the date I witnessed the grisly event that devolved every one of us into simple hamsters in the eyes of Julia, but I honestly can’t tell.  I stopped caring far too long ago.  The only true indicator of time I have anymore is that Anna, despite swelling to a rotund shape, hasn’t yet given birth to her child.  That, as well, is the only real reminder we have that life still exists in the universe.

                A toe, slimy with a day’s worth of constant stepping and pressing against the sweltering insole, slides easily along my body and across my neck.  Even in the dark, I can tell precisely what’s going on.  I can feel every move of every muscle in Julia’s foot working with such surgical precision on me.

                Satisfied with her footwork, Julia finishes rolling me completely underfoot, her toes scrunching over my body as I am deposited easily by the massive things against the damp, matted-fur base of the boot.  I cough a few times, finding my lungs filling with the salty grit of the day, plastered in encrusted liquid form across almost every inch of these gargantuan feminine feet like a timeline of events.

                I sigh to myself as Julia gently lays her toes across my body like a log, the ball of her foot smothering any slight backdraft that could creep from the musty heel of the boot.  She’ll be home from school soon, and then I can come out.  Then I can get the fresh air and light I so crave.

                Am I already insane?

                Probably.

                I cough lightly as I tumble down the slope of Julia’s tipped boot, light bathing over my naked body warmly as I cascade along the sweat-slicked matted fur lining of her footwear.  The fresh air fills my lungs and I breathe a sigh of relief, the joy of the single inhalation nearly making up for the past seven hours of hot muggy hell in Julia’s boot.  Almost.

                A doughy thumb and pointer finger fold themselves gently around my right leg, plucking me easily from the carpet where I landed.  I dangle helplessly upside down between my girlfriend’s gargantuan pinched fingers, blinking a few times as I try to readjust my vision into functionality.  As I rise, the blurriness slowly subsiding, I watch Julia’s toned calves fall below, followed by the firmly filled pant leg of her skinny jean capris.  Far below now, I can see the smooth toes of the foot that just spent the last three hours lovingly fondling me wriggling gleefully in the open air.

                Julia giggles softly as she plops me into an open palm.  I splay out for a moment, stretching my arms and legs out, my muscles sore from a full day of fending off oppressively weighted foot flesh resting itself on me like a comically undersized stool.

                “Feeling good, baby?” she coos in a low whisper to me.  I can feel her warm breath on my back, and as I role over I find her face hovering just over me.  I watch the creases around her lips curl, her teeth glistening.  Her eyes sparkling with delight to see me again.

                I nod, rubbing my hands across my face wearily.              

                “Awww… is somebody tired?” she asks pleasantly in an overly bubbly baby voice.  “It wasn’t dark enough down in my shoe, hmmm?  Couldn’t get a nap in?”

                That’s an understatement.

                “No, not really, Julia.  Sorry,” I answer simply, trying to regain my composure.

                I feel us both falling slowly for a moment as Julia takes a seat on her bed, resting her arm on her knee as she studies me pensively.

                “You don’t like it down there?”

                “I… I… No, no, I do… I mean… I don’t really mind, I just…”

                “Just what?”

                “I guess… it’s sort of… hard to…” I gulp.  “See you, you know?  I’d rather be up here with you.”

                Julia looks like she’s considering it for a moment, but then shakes her head.  “Jack, you know I can’t do that.  Have you out there during the day, I mean.  What if people saw you?”

                “Well…”

                “They’d take you away from me,” she sighs, frowning a little at the very thought.

                “Maybe they wouldn’t have to see me,” I offer, hoping I can still bargain for something that doesn’t involve me wrestling her toes day after day until I die.  “How about… your pocket?  Or… or…”

                “Jack, you know I can’t feel you there.  How do I know you’ll be safe there?”

                “But…”

                “But when I have you down there…” she smiles cheekily, eying the carpet.  “…in my boot, I… I can feel you.  I know you’re safe.  I can keep you safe.”

                “But what if you step on me?” I blurt somewhat uncertainly, hanging my head.

                There’s silence for a moment.  Painfully awkward silence.  That’s never a good thing in Julia’s presence.  Did I cross the line?

                Shit.

                Gently, Julia’s finger tucks itself under my chin, forcing me to look up at her again.  She looks at me pleadingly, a reassuringly smile on her lips.

                “Is that it?  That’s what you’re worried about?” she says with genuine concern.

                I nod wordlessly, swallowing hard in my dry throat.

                “That my big ol’ feet will step on you?”

                “I… wouldn’t put it quite like that, but…” I mumble.

                She snickers again.  “Don’t be so nervous.  You’re adorable.  I know you wouldn’t actually say anything about these feet.  Not when you’re so…”

                Vulnerable.

                “…intimate with them?” she continues slyly.

                I shrug uncertainly.  “I would never say something bad about any part of you, Julia.”  I force a smile.

                Julia grins back at me, gently and playfully biting at her lower lip with her top row of teeth for a moment before lapping quickly across her lips with the soggy tip of her tongue.  “You know, it doesn’t have to just be all protection down there, you know.”

                “Oh?”

                “No,” she says simply, her eyes widening.  Something’s cooking in that mind of hers, and I’m not particularly interested in finding out what it is anytime soon.  Probably since whatever it is is not too far removed from cooking me in some fashion.  “Wanna see?”

                “See… what?”

                “Don’t ask so many questions, loverboy, and lay back for me,” she adds feistily, bringing her other hand up to her mouth.  I obey and lay back in the smooth flesh of her palm, resting my head against her fingers.  Grinning wildly at me again, she slides her tongue out from her lips and strokes her thumb along the damp surface of it a few times.  Just for show, she draws her finger back about an inch and allows me to witness the crystalline, glistening strand of warm saliva dangling like pearls between her fingertip and tongue before being broken by a quick snap of her finger.  With the skin of her digit suitably wet, she lowers both the hand holding me and her slippery thumb lower toward the carpet.

                I watch as she hovers her palm just over her right foot and parts the second and third toes, arching them fully up in the air.  With her thumb, then, she dips low and begins inserting her spit-soaked finger into the fleshy toe crevice, rubbing the sticky moisture along all surfaces.

                “Just lubing up for you,” she winks at me.  Somehow, I already get the feeling this is going to be unpleasant for me.  Finally satisfied with the job she’s done, Julia raises her thumb back up toward her lap, and with the hand still holding me secures me in place, her fingers curling down to restrain me softly against her palm as she cups it gently against the underside of her foot.

                “Julia… are you…”

                “This could be what we do everyday if you like, Jack,” she wheedles enticingly, the digits of her foot dancing merrily before me as I find myself surrounded on all sides by giant feminine fingers and toes.  Steadily, then, Julia’s fingers slide me between her toes, the skin slick and slightly gooey with drying saliva.  I tense up a little, uncomfortable as ever, as I look up the long, sloping leg of my girlfriend, past her knee, and up her expectant face.  “C’mon, Jack.  Get busy in there.”

                “Julia… I don’t really… I can’t… I…”

                “Jack, I think you’ll find what you can and can’t do get mixed up a lot when you’ve got someone like me on your side,” grins Julia, her slimy toes gripping me stickily, causing me to cringe in disgust, against my better judgment.

                “Something wrong, baby?” my gargantuan lover coos, the more or less seductive motion of her fleshy digits not slowing down the pumping at all around my body.  Coughing a little from the intense, rancid scent pervading my lungs, I look up toward Julia’s face again.

                “It’s just… I don’t want you to forget again…”

                “Forget what?”

                I swallow hard, knowing I’m taking another gamble here.  “…the others?  You know… their… food?  They haven’t eaten since last night,” I suggest, trying my best to not sound pleading.

                Julia’s brow furrows slightly, her lip curling upward.  “You’re worried about them, huh?”

                “Oh… well, you know… I just figure, since we’re both… out here… I can help you remember stuff like that, you know?”

                Julia studies my face for a moment, the motion of her toes slowing down as she plucks me out from between them and deposits me back into her warm palm before raising me back up to chin level.  I feel more vulnerable than ever.  I can tell she’s just picking me apart with her eyes, studying my practiced lying facial expression and trying to find a crack in it.  Some sign that I’m not totally truthful with her.  Some sign that this is all a farce to me and I’m not, in fact, deeply in love with her.

                I try not to tremble.  I can’t mess up here, and not ever.  At this point, with the others in so helpless a situation, I’m the last hope they have.  They’re all counting on me, and I’m keenly aware of that as I stare up into the monstrous, murderous face of this gorgeous giant of a sixteen-year-old, her eyes burning brightly with a passionate fire of love, lust, and barely bridled rage ready to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.

                “I guess it would be good to get it done now.  Just to make sure I don’t forget.  Thanks, baby,” Julia nods, her studious expression softening for the time being.  I breath a gentle sigh of relief.

                “Okay,” I shrug, trying to sound like I don’t care one way or the other.

                “Besides,” Julia giggles.  “Sometimes the waiting makes the eventual release all the sweeter.”  She glances back down at her toes far below, wriggling them expectantly. 

                “Oh, you know it,” I chuckle back at her in the raunchiest response I can muster without making myself sick.  Julia leans in and plants a quick peck on the top of my head before pulling back.

                “Let’s feed the little worms now,” she snarls, the temporary sweetness in her voice rotting instantly into darkly putrid hate.

                After everything that’s happened, you’d think I’d be able to watch anything life throws at me and not feel sickened in the slightest.

                Yet, fate just continues to shock and surprise in the most darkly hilarious of ways that I think it’s safe to say only fate, that coldhearted bastard, actually finds funny.

                I watch, my mind attempting to remain on emotional lockdown, as Julia removes each jar, one by one, from the shelf in her pitch-black closet, unscrews the hole-pocked lids, and tips out the naked body of another one of her significantly less beloved pets into her palm.

                They all shiver wordlessly as they land in Julia’s palm and willingly allow her to wrap her fingers around them, heating them up.  None of them have the mixed blessing of excessive body heat provided courtesy of Julia’s hot, sweaty toes bearing down on them for seven straight hours.  My heart wrenches particularly painfully in my chest as Gina rolls out of the bottom of the jar and into Julia’s hand.

                All of us are just skeletal shadows of our former selves, in mind and in body.  I know I’ve been losing weight the most rapidly out of us all, but seeing it in everyone else, it becomes much more apparent.  Even from afar, I can see it.

                The pale, sunlight-deprived skin.

                The tired, sunken bags under their unfocused eyes.

                The thin, shallow bodies wracked with the beginnings of malnourishment.

                More helpless than ever as each, in turn, lands gently in Julia’s hand and curl up against themselves for warmth, swallowed entirely by the overpowering strength of our totalitarian goddess’s fingers.

                I want to say something.  I want to yell out to them all and tell them I’m working as quickly as I can to get Julia to cut them all some slack and bring us back to where we once were.  I want to cry out to Gina and tell her something important.

                Any one of those things would lead to a one-way ticket into a jar as well, which would of course extinguish any scrappy, filthy dregs of hope all of us have of eventual escape.

                So I remain silent, watching as Julia feels over the bodies of her human hamsters, searching for God knows what concealed under their tiny, frail skins.  In an impossibly rare act of mercy, Julia seems to at least be aware that Anna’s pregnancy is already taking a strong enough toll and malnourishment would probably kill both mother and child, so she at least gets slightly more food than the rest, but it’s sure not much.

                I watch as Brian’s turn comes up, his head listing off to the side somewhat as he groggily blinks in Julia’s firm grip, readjusting his eyes to the rare sight of sunlight streaming in between the blinds.

                For a moment, we make eye contact.  He nods a few times, obviously still very out of it, but it’s unmistakable.  It’s comforting, despite seeing all of them like this, to see acknowledgement.

                Somehow, Brian hasn’t given up.  There’s a shred of belief in reality still in there.

                Julia goes down the line, essentially fondling the cold, thin bodies of each of her toys and holding some stale bread crumbs against their dry lips, trying to get them to eat.  They all manage to look me in the eye, the light nearly drained from them, but there nonetheless.

                The slight, barely visible smile that Gina gives me makes my heart want to burst, and at the same time makes me wish I could rise up and beat Julia to within an inch of her life as she playfully prods the paltry supply of bread crumbs against Gina’s face.  Julia’s fingers, wrapped possessively around Gina’s poor body, squeezing just a little tighter than she probably should given how weak Gina has become.  The closest thing Gina will be getting to an embrace.  I ache to have to watch.

                Swallowing this intermingled love and rage at all of this, knowing that Julia can’t see my face right now as I perch in her front breast pocket, I give Gina the biggest, most hopeful smile I can possibly muster, winking at her.

                The realest emotion I’ve displayed to anyone in however long it’s been.  The only real shred of love I have left for anyone in the world.  It feels good to show it, and hurts doubly as Julia plops Gina’s naked body back into the bottom of the jar before sprinkling down a hailstorm of the remaining bread crumbs upon her.

                Julia giggles as her pinched fingers sprinkle the crumbs down on Gina, who can only cower and flinch as the chunky pieces of food ricochet off of her back.

                I want to scream.

                But I can’t.  Not yet.  Not now.

                It’s at this moment, watching as Julia, finally sufficiently satisfied with humiliating Gina, screws the lid back on her jar and picks the minute glass house up in a firm fist before sliding it roughly back across the shelf in the dark, causing Gina to be knocked hard against the rounded interior wall of the jar as it comes to a stop.

                As the others follow suit, placed back in the shadowy, hellish prison of Julia’s bedroom closet, I feel something new welling up inside me.  Anger, aggression, passion… I can’t really say.  All I know, though, as I watch the huge door slam shut, is that it’s up to me now.  We’ve all been broken down to an essence we didn’t even know we had, but that doesn’t matter anymore.  We’ve hit the bottom level that existence has to offer, and the only way anything is going to happen now is if I can do something about it.

                Julia’s hand slides down into the breast pocket, her fingers sliding around me and squeezing me firmly.

                For a moment, I actually feel comforted.  Her fingers are still warm from holding Gina.

                That is, I feel comforted until Julia’s thumb finds its way under my bare junk and squeezes it hard against her palm like a little kid might while holding a cheap carnival toy.

                My eyes water with pain, although I’m not sure where exactly it’s coming from.

                This will end.  I swear it, this moment, on my life and on my soul, that this will end.  Somehow, someway.  No matter what it takes.  No matter how much I have to debase myself.

                No matter how many times I have to sell my soul.

                “Ready to finish our game, Jack?” Julia giggles, probably trying to entice me with some foreplay as she begins carnally kneading the lower half of my body between her fingers.

                “Oh, yeah,” I snicker enthusiastically with renewed resolve, lowering my face over Julia’s finger and kissing it loudly.  “Let’s play.”

                “I had a dream about you last night,” I say, holding Gina’s hands in mine, as we sit on a small couch in a living room I don’t recognize.  The floor creaks quietly beneath us as she grins back at me.

                “Really?  What happened in it?” she giggles with a kind of joy I haven’t seen in her tired eyes in months.

                “We were big again,” I sigh, frowning a little as I scan my eyes around the room, not quite making out what’s happening or where we are.  I can barely discern what I see across the room.  A few wicker coffee tables with glass leaves, a couple pots of large white flowers, a window through which the sun glares with warm, blinding light that I somehow find myself able to look directly into without blinking.

                “Really?”

                “Yeah.  We were… were back… home… somewhere…” I groan wistfully.  “Together.”

                “Like we always said it would be,” Gina whispers.

                “I… um, yeah,” I answer.  Somehow I don’t know what she means.  We’ve never said anything like that.  Sure, it’s my deepest fantasy to run away to safety with Gina, but we’ve never discussed it.  I was always far too terrified to say it.  Partly because of not wanting to be rejected, and partly because the hope of such a thing drains a little bit more every day like a cancer of reality attached firmly to each of us.

                Gina nods.  “I’ve had a dream like that too.”

                I smirk back at her, squeezing her palms against mine, not wanting to let go of her: the one sure, safe thing in this world I know of anymore.

                “Really.  Tell me about it,” I request quietly, leaning in closer.

                “We had a house.”

                “What kind?”

                “An old one.  But… but a nice one.  Something built by people who cared about where they lived, but… but they weren’t there anymore.”

                “Where was it?”

                “Out in the country.  Far off.  Somewhere where they couldn’t find us.”

                “They?”

                “People,” Gina shrugged.  “At least at first.  I just… I guess I just wanted a break from it all first before we can go back.”

                “I know what you mean,” I say with the pain of someone who hasn’t known what it’s like to be normal sized in two years.  Somehow, even if everyone were about as tall as me or even a little shorter, I don’t think I could walk among them and not feel the gut-rending fear that at any moment one of their shoes would list a little too far to the left and smash me bloodily into the pavement against their rubber sole.

                At this point, not even a sight of glorious reality could convince me otherwise.

                “What did it look like?” I wondered aloud.

                “It was beautiful.  Little picket fence, a weird little broken cobblestone path, the outside with kind of worn off paint.  Surrounded by nothing but tall, grassy fields.  A pond, with fish and geese.  Pine trees clustered around the road.  To make it harder for anyone to know we were there.”

                “I love it,” I smile warmly, leaning in forward a little further, the tip of my nose nudging Gina’s.

                “And we’d always start each day,” Gina continued, moving in the rest of the way and softly planting her lips against mine.  “On a couch, in our living room, just… just watching the sun roll over the sky and up through the clouds.”

                “Oh?” I whisper with sudden imperiousness, looking down at the couch we’re sitting on as I slowly begin to realize we’re already, somehow, in the house Gina was describing.

                “Well, yeah,” Gina shrugs again, wrapping her arms around me slowly.  “To me, it’s the perfect place.  My paradise.”

                “Mine, too,” I say with a slight frown, beginning to question more and more what’s happening here.

                “But you know what completes it?” she asks, planting a second kiss on my cheek.

                “You,” I smile confidently.  “Just you.”

                There’s peaceful silence for a second as we clasp our fingers back in between one another, our bodies pressed together, her cheek against mine, her long hair tickling my neck silkily.

                Bliss.

                “But it can’t happen now,” Gina sighs, suddenly pulling back and causing me to startle.

                “What?” I ask dryly, afraid now.

                “It can’t.  Not after she found out about the plan,” Gina shrugged.

                “It… it does look… grimmer after that, I admit,” I say as positively as possible, swallowing a lump in my throat.  “But please, Gina, you can’t give up hope with me yet.  You’re the main reason I’ve got to try to get us out of here.”

                “It’s no use unless you find out how.”

                “What do you mean?”
                “How Julia found out about the plan.”

                “What?  I… I mean, she probably just looked it up, found something we overlooked on the computer, she…”

                “No,” Gina interrupts with surprising shrillness.  “Wrong.”

                It’s as if Gina is no longer sitting in front of me, but someone- no, something else.  Yet, despite the fact that this new Gina has called an abrupt halt to our embrace, I feel something new and almost as powerful other than love overcoming me.  Attentiveness.  Determination.  Aggression.  Somehow it’s re-energizing me.  I don’t know why.

                “I know it’s wrong.  Brian told me how you all triple-checked every nook and cranny it could have disappeared to on that computer,” I sigh with confusion.  “I know it wasn’t that.”

                “Then what was it?” Gina queries, arms crossed.

                “What does it matter?” I groan with exasperation, less at Gina and more at myself for having concocted this odd display in my mind.

                “A lot,” Gina says simply, raising an eyebrow at me, as if expecting the situation to be completely changed already.

                There’s an uncomfortable pause.  “Is this a dream?” I growl to no one in particular.

                “What does it matter?” the metaphorical Gina groans back mockingly.

                “Okay, fair enough.  So what are you trying to say?  Why is my mind fucking with me when I’m trying to sleep?”

                “You’re not really trying to sleep, and it’s not fucking with you.  Of course, it… could be, if you want,” Gina coos slyly, placing a hand on my crotch without another thought and rubbing it in an act diametrically opposed in every way to the real Gina’s personality: the one I fell for.

                “Okay, okay, stop, now I know for sure this is a dream,” I say suddenly, pulling back, causing the fake Gina to snicker at my fearfulness.  “If you’re trying to say something, say it soon before my brain wraps itself around what’s happening here and I wake up.”

                “Fine,” Gina sighs, clearing her throat.  “Just think.  How did Julia find out?”

                “I have no goddamn idea,” I mutter, scratching my head.  This idea has bothered me endlessly over the countless sleepless nights as Julia’s boyfriend and over the nearly crippling days as her toe ornament, and I’ve come no closer to knowing.  I know there’s no way to directly ask Julia.  It’s almost hopeless.

                “Yes you do.  You’re just not thinking straight.”

                “This is my dream, not yours.  How do you even know something like that?”

                “Well, obviously you do know it, or I wouldn’t know it.  It’s buried in there.  You have an idea, you just haven’t come to it yet.”

                “I feel like I’m at a business meeting with my subconscious,” I groan, leaning back further on the couch.

                “Stop goofing around or you’re not gonna get anywhere,” Gina whispers through gritted teeth.

                “Okay, fine, so if this is all just me not able to decide, TELL me something real!” I demand a little more harshly than I intend.  Obviously, this version of Gina is just something I’ve created in my mind, but it still pains me to have to yell at the face that looks so remarkably like the real one.

                “The way out is also the way in.”

                “What, now my brain is giving me fucking riddles?” I half-shout.

                “It’s a dream,” Gina shrugs.  “Nothing makes sense.  It’s all there, but you have to put it together.  Besides, it’s not a riddle, it’s just something to think about right now.”

                “Well, yeah, no shit it’s not a riddle, it’s a sentence that sort of makes sense on its own anyway, but it doesn’t help me!” I cry back, clenching my fists in frustration.  “And I still don’t understand why knowing is going to help me get us out of here.”

                “Maybe it will, maybe it won’t.  That’ll depend on what you decide to do with yourself,” Gina shrugs finally, slowly rising from the couch and walking across the room toward the window’s flaring white light.  “We’re counting on you.  You know that.  That’s why you’re repeating it to yourself now.  And that’s why you can’t let any of this go, because everything is important right now.  You think you have nothing, but you do.  You have suspicions and you have thoughts.  For now, that’s all the tools you’re going to get.”

                “But…”

                “And you have the biggest, most powerful tool of all: Julia.  She’s strong enough to break your spine between her fingers but she’s still just a scared little sixteen-year-old girl without any friends who doesn’t understand her own feelings, let alone the world.  Think straight and you can work it to your advantage.”

                “Where are you going?” I gasp, starting to rise from the couch.

                “Stay there.  You’re about to end this whole thing anyway,” Gina suggests, raising a hand as she is swallowed up by the light.

                “No… WAIT!  I still don’t know what I’m supposed to DO!” I shout, but feel my words drowned out as the serenity of silence is shattered by an earth-rumbling thud that causes me to lose my balance and buckle over against the wood floor.

                “Where’s my baby?” Julia’s voice whispers calmly, although the strength of the voice is omnipresent, filling my ears and all the air around me.  “Where’d he go?”

                “God damn it…” I mumble, staying huddled against the ground.

                “I’m here for you, lover,” Julia calls out like a desperate songbird, the volume rising.

                I feel another thud before hearing a loud rumbling from the other side of the mysterious house.

                The ground trembles.  Items in the room clatter.  Flower pots topple, water gushing from the bases.

                Julia steps into the room, looking just a tad shorter than me, like she did the day we first met face-to-face.  Normal.  Utterly normal.  A pair of skinny jeans adorning her legs, a simple bright orange blouse covering her torso, her chocolate brown hair done up in a tightly wound ponytail.

                My eyes boggle but I waste no time.  She’s right there.  Right in front of me.  A target.

                She smiles and waves.  “Found you, baby.”

                I lunge at her as hard as I can.  She goes down without a fight, smacking hard against the wood boards of the floor.  Instantly I’m upon her, grasping at her arms with my hands and pinning them down, wrapping my legs around hers and holding her down.

                “Wow, Jack,” she laughs happily.  “I love this.  I’ve never seen such… PASSION in you.  My God!  This is…”

                “Shut up, you fucking piece of shit,” I growl, my body trembling, my rage barely quelled.

                “Oohhhh… dirty talk.  That’s it, Jack.  Keep it up.  I’m LOVING this!”

                I can’t hold it in any longer and, rearing back, I land a hard right hook across her face that leaves a painful sounding crack hanging in the air.  She reacts to the punch, her head nudging to the side, but it returns to the same spot, her mouth still spread out in a grin, with no mark at all.

                Not to be immodest, but with the strength I just hit her, all my pent-up anger unleashed in a single hit, there should’ve been, at the very least, some teeth lost and a mouthful of blood on Julia’s part.

                Nothing.

                “Oh, yeahhhh… like that, Jack.  Just like that.  That’s how I like it.  Go on, fight me.  Get me.  Show me how mad you are, little guy,” she taunts playfully, sticking her tongue out, her cruel blue eyes dancing like flaming crystals before me.

                That’s it. 

                Taking a deep breath, I let go of both her arms and unleash a flurry of strikes across her face like I have never known in my whole life.  I feel my fists beginning to fall as dead weight after a few minutes of continuous motion.  I feel my eyes watering, my throat going dry, my muscles becoming sore as I put every bit of remaining energy I have into each punch in rapid succession.

                By the time I’m done I’m so spent I practically collapse on top of the totally unfazed and unmarked Julia, who just continues to giggle, nod, and offer encouragement to continue.

                Squirming a little, it’s at this moment I realize that neither of us is clothed anymore and, as I lie across Julia’s body, perfectly aligned, I become aware that my member is buried deep in Julia’s womanhood.

                Yelling with disgust and surprise I begin to struggle, pushing up against the ground, but it’s no use.  Julia’s moist lips seemed to have clamped impossibly powerfully onto my dick, and escape is impossible.  I gasp with terror and fight, moving back and forth in an attempt to release myself, inadvertently thrusting myself into my captor.

                All the while, Julia begins to moan with pleasure, allowing her muscles to relax, and the longer I fight, the louder her cries of passion become before she explodes with a joyous shriek and a ceasing of motion.  She shuts her eyes, sighing.

                “Oh, Jack.  That was wonderful,” she whispers softly, leaning up to my shocked eyes and pressing her firm pink tongue against my cheek before sliding it with a sultry moan up to the top of my face

                “Jack.  Jack.  C’mon, look at me so I know you’re okay,” comes a soft voice, whispered through soft and concerned lips, as I blink a few times to clear the shadow from my eyes.

                Air fills my lungs heavily like disease, the oxygen feeling almost greasy with the odor of skin and sweat as I recall where I am: crumpled into the toe section of Julia’s right shoe.  Today it’s a plain gray moccasin, carpeted on the interior with a thick, raw padding of tied fur.  I remember this before I even have clear enough vision to see it in the dim light of the shoe as Julia grips it against her torso, peering with worry in at me. 

                I spent the early morning under merciless assault from Julia’s long toes, the soft and bulbous tips offering little comfort as she drummed them down upon me like fleshy hammers.  It wasn’t hard enough to leave bruises, certainly, but after about an hour of her playful footsie variation I was left covered in rug burns from the fur coating and practically cowering in the fluffy darkness as the clear victors of the encounter, my girlfriend’s toes, rested comfortably on top of me, weighing just enough to make it not worth the effort to try and push them off my overheated naked body.

                Evidently, I had fallen asleep after a hell of a morning, and as I creep up the slope of the shoe and toward the open mouth of it, light floods in and I can see the deceptively angelic face of our tormentor smiling down at me, her eyes glowing again just as they did in the dream, her pursed lips finally curling upward again.  She exhales, clearly relieved, as her fingers slide easily into the shoe, the wonderfully cold skin wrapping snugly around my body and lifting me out of my prison cell.

                Her fingers squeeze me lightly into her palm as if getting a feel for my weight again.  She frowns, drawing me closer to her soft face and squinting as she shifts her fingers around, allowing her to get a good look at every inch of me.  I comply limply, allowing her practiced hands to stroke me like a stress ball about to be crushed.

                “That’s my boy,” she nods, lowering her voice.  “How are you feeling?”

                “Kinda tired, I guess,” I answer truthfully.  Looking around, I realize we’re back in a bathroom stall.  Straining my ears, then I can hear a dull roar peppered with shrill chatter.  We’re obviously in the cafeteria bathroom.

                It’s odd to be here.  The classrooms designated as after school detention rooms are no more than one hundred feet and a couple of turns in the hallway from the entrance to the cafeteria, so desperately close to where I am now.

                So desperately close to where this all began.  To a room where I was too foolish to be aware of my surroundings, where my entire life was stripped of me in a blink and gifted forcibly into the hands of a young girl with a crush on me and a goddess complex barely held under control. 

                I’ve often wondered if I could’ve done something; I’ve played the scene over countless times in my mind, but no matter how I position the variables, after what I’ve seen of Julia, I know it wasn’t a random event.  It couldn’t have been.  She would’ve had me for her own, one way or another.

                Julia shrugs, loosening the grips of her fingers on my nude form and allowing me to gently rest in her palm.  I fight back a sigh of temporary relief.

                It’s on days like this, where Julia’s toes seem restless within the confines of the shoe I happen to be residing in, that I literally yearn to be held by Julia and caressed by the soft surface of her palm, cradled by warm and loving fingers.  Anything but this.

                “I guess I was a little rough on you, wasn’t I?” she muses, her eyes darting quickly in the direction of the door when she hears the squeak of rubber sneakers marching by before her longing gaze returns to me.

                “Oh, you know… I’m tough, I can take it,” I chuckle, showing as little irony as I can.  My head is still swimming from the dream, trying to make sense of all of it.  Somehow, though, my instincts seem to be guiding me in the direction of playing along rather than emotionlessly going through the required steps.

                Julia beams at me.  “Oh, don’t I know it.  In fact, your whole body, is pretty tough…” she giggles, raising an eyebrow as her eyes suddenly become transfixed on the area between my legs.  “…some parts more than others.”

                “Yep.  You’d know, all right,” I grin, wrapping my arms around her thumb as I clamber across her cupped palm.  Leaning in, I plant a hard kiss on the tip of her finger and then her fingernail before leaning my cheek against it.

                Julia’s lower jaw seems to hang open for a moment in awe before she leans in closer, nudging my body with the most tender of touches from her lips.  I quiver, not quite prepared for it.

                “Can we always be like this, baby?” she whispers in a voice so low I wonder if she can even hear herself.  “Forever?”

                “Absolutely,” I smile back, nodding.  She touches me again with her lips, the soft skin puckering ever so lightly against me, as if she wants to kiss me but she’s afraid of hurting me.

                “Maybe I left you down there for too long,” she seems to conclude.

                I’m tempted to pinch myself.  An all-too-rare moment nowadays where Julia seems to actually be giving a coherent second thought to the wellbeing of her pets, even if it is me.  Unprecedented from a girl who now seems to believe it’s perfectly acceptable etiquette to be kissing a boy who you refer to as your boyfriend one minute and to be grinding him beneath your toes inside your shoe for five hours straight in the next.

                “Well, what now, then?” I hear myself ask, not quite knowing why.

                “I had a lot of fun with you this morning,” she snickers playfully.  “Even if I couldn’t see you.  I appreciated the effort, by the way.  I could feel you squirming down there for so long.  It was so adorable I was tempted to pull you out during trig class so I could pet you.  I kinda wish I had, actually.  You’d look a little more awake right now.”

                “Well, we all make mistakes,” I say, pretending to joke.

                “What?” she seems to snap, her voice still low but just as imperious as ever.

                “Not you, of course,” I retort hastily, practically flinching as her voice became a dagger again.

                Julia frowns at me, brow furrowed, narrowed eyes piercing, her gorgeous face like a monolith frozen in an expression of unfettered rage, and for an instant it occurs to me that I might’ve just damned myself and all my friends with a simple sentence.  However, just as I feel a few token beads of sweat falling down my cheek, Julia breaks into joyous laughter, shutting her eyes and causing her whole body to tremble.

                Does this mean I’m not dead?

                Almost immediately Julia brings me back close to her face and taps me lightly on the chest with a fingertip, stroking my stomach carefully in an attempt to soothe.

                “Sorry, Jack, I just couldn’t resist… you were just so… so helpless, and you looked so freaked out, it seemed so cute and hilarious, I couldn’t just…”

                Obviously I’m involuntarily holding an unforgiveable expression on my own face because Julia’s face quickly changes back into one of solemnity, but this time it appears to be directed at herself.

                “I… I didn’t really scare you, did I, baby?  You know I love you too much to get upset about stuff you say.  I don’t care about any of it.  Say whatever you want; I don’t mind.”

                I’m quite sure there are dozens of things I could say at this very moment that would almost guarantee my hypothetically bloodied corpse being flushed down the toilet within five minutes, but of course Julia wouldn’t admit that to me, and probably not even herself.  I smile cautiously, nodding.

                “WELL,” Julia sighs brightly.  “I guess your jerk of a girlfriend has had enough of almost scaring the pee out of you.  Why don’t we switch for a little while here, and let you have the fun instead, Jack?”

                Once again, Julia severely misjudges me.  The only fun I can really conceive of having at this moment would involve beating the shit out of Julia’s face until it had pretty much caved in, but I’m assuming that’s not the option she’s about to offer me.  Nevertheless, I nod, trying not to let my smile turn into a grimace.

                “That sounds awesome, Julia,” I smarm, disgusting myself.  “Like what?”

                Julia’s focus seems to intensify.  “You like me, don’t you, Jack?”

                I feel like my head’s going to roll right off as I instantly go into berserk nodding mode.  “Of course.  Why do you even need to ask?”

                Julia shakes her head, brushing a few long stray locks of deep brown hair away from her eyes so she can see me more clearly, her head tilting in that way it so often does when she’s thinking about something I’d rather not know about but can already tell will directly involve me.

                “No, I mean… me… my… body,” she croons, running her free hand, pointer finger extended, down from the crook of her neck, between her breasts, along her abdomen, and down to her crotch.

                “I like your body almost as much as I love the person who owns it,” I say as easily as I can, aware that I’m walking on eggshells here.  Julia grins again, giving me reason to believe I chose correctly.

                “Well… I have to be in class, but…” Julia drawls, rolling her eyes as if her mind isn’t already made up.  “There’s no reason you can’t have some fun with it.”

                “Oh.  I… I guess not, huh?” I state as neutrally as possible, entirely unsure of how to handle what’s happening.

                Julia slowly and methodically tucks a finger into the neck of her blouse, propping the fabric open and holding her other cupped hand just over it, allowing me to peer down into the darkness that shrouds her breasts, covered by a lacy black bra. 

                Far too fancy for school. 

                Quite obviously there entirely for my benefit.

                “Like what you see?” she whispers daintily.

                “Y-Y-Yes.”

                “Then enjoy, baby,” she coos, pecking lightly at my face again with puckered lips before slowly tipping her palm, allowing me to tumble down into her shirt, where I slide down the soft slope of skin and immediately become lodged between the two tight and firm hills of juicy, rotund flesh that make up Julia’s chest.

                With a sigh, I uncomfortably press a hand against each massive breast and tuck my legs into the thin silky strap connecting the deep cups as Julia winks at me a final time before covering herself back up and calmly exiting the bathroom stall.

                It’s hard to say what’s worse here. 

                Before, when Julia had me tucked snugly against her foot inside her flats, the environment was hot and muggy, with the ever-increasing staleness of the air being tainted by moisture slowly forming around her gargantuan instep.  Her toes were constantly squirming, forcing me to remain still to avoid having the wind knocked out of me when she’d bring them down on my body, and with barely any oxygen or fresh air making its way in, I felt positively miserable and cramped so badly I longed to trade places with a canned sardine. 

                Now, having transferred me to the space between the cups of her bra, I’ve gotten the fresh air I craved as it comes in through the neckline of her shirt, but rather than just existing, I’ve got to actually work a little.  Julia’s got my legs tucked into the strap between the cups and I can already feel my arms getting tired from keeping my balance, as I’ve been here for about an hour now; I’ve heard the dull chatter of the teacher from what feels like far away, like hearing TV static quietly through a wall.  Despite having my girlfriend’s rotund breasts giving me some standing support under my tiny feet, I can feel gravity trying to tug me down her shirt and to a crippling drop tumbling down Julia’s pant leg.

                Honestly now, I’m pretty sure this is the worse option.  And to think I silently complained so much while buried relatively safely under Julia’s oppressive, sweaty toes.

                Still, my mission feels clear in the back of my mind, no matter how inconsequential it feels.  How did she know about Beth?  And, less importantly for now, what does it have to do with anything?

                It’s not like I’ve got anything else to work toward in the pathetic remainder of my animal life right now, let alone hope.  It’s the only explanation I can find for why I feel so compelled to do something, however pointless it may feel, and however drained of desire to persevere I am on all other fronts.

                One thing is clear: with paranoia oozing out of every pore of her being, Julia’s not going to be giving me anything to work with unless she’s in the right mood, even if we are supposed to be romantically linked. 

                I know it’s useless to ponder with someone as insane as Julia, but I can’t conceive of how her life has allowed her to reach the conclusion that what we have is a totally normal relationship.

                It’s time to take action, and for one of the rare occasions in my life, my body seems to know exactly what it’s doing, even if the rest of me doesn’t.  Wrestling with the strap of the bra, I manage to hook my feet into the left cup.  It takes some effort, but by prying upward with my legs, I manage to create a small opening.  It’s not much, but considering my altogether thin stature, it’s enough wiggle room to snake my way inside.

                Jack, what the hell are you doing?  

                For a second, my heart stops, thinking Julia’s voice just boomed down to me asking that aloud, but then I realize we’re still in silence, and my subconscious is demanding it of me instead.  I don’t blame it.

                For a moment, plunged into darkness, I’m awkwardly plastered.  The tension of Julia’s soft black bra snaps back down like a rubber band as soon as I’m inside, pinning me hard against the warm, lightly jiggling flesh of Julia’s youthful breast.  Getting my bearings, though, I manage to inch my way steadily so that I’m facing Julia, with my head compressed gently into the skin, my feet pressed slightly into the underside of the breast.  I feel Julia’s breathing change, and as I’m directly over where her heart is, I can feel its pumping rate increasing slightly.  She’s probably confused as to what I’m doing spread-eagled across her boob.  However, given that she’s in class, making it hard to adjust casually, and I’m not exactly trying to escape, and on the contrary am trapping myself even more effectively, Julia seems content to let me be.

                Perfect.  Taking a deep breath, my focus intensifies as I slide my hand over the perfectly smooth flesh, searching for the right position, until I meet my mark and my palm brushes against Julia’s nipple.  Although firmer than the surrounding area, its soft and a little deflated.  However, pressing my fingers into the flesh, I began to knead, squeezing the slightly rougher skin of Julia’s aerola and running my thumb around the rim.

                The effect is pretty immediate.  I can feel the skin tightening under my palm as I caress it, the nipple rising like a fleshy anthill under my hand.  The skin of her breast is reacting, too; I can feel huge goosebumps prickling softly along under my body.  For a moment, I feel Julia adjusting above, her body going rigid with what I assume to be surprise.  She probably casually lifted her shirt, but still can’t see me to make eye contact and silently ask what the holy hell I think I’m doing.  Being in class, there’s no way for her to communicate with me short of getting up to use the restroom and check things out.  I’m betting she’ll eventually resort to that, so I’ve got to work while I’ve got some relative solitude.

                It’s simpler to do than I imagined.  It doesn’t take much more than two minutes of running my palms along Julia’s nipple, massaging it, for it to stand fully erect in the bra, thick and firm.  I squeeze it several times for good measure, and feel Julia’s body react in kind, jerking just enough that I feel it.  The heat has intensified as she breaks into a slight sweat, resulting from what I can only humbly assume to be full-on arousal; I can feel the slightly sticky perspiration tickling along her skin and forming in a gummy film along my body, intermingling with my own, but I can’t let it distract me.  Her heart rate has increased greatly, almost to the point that I’d guess her breathing is becoming vocally shallower.  Her nipple seems to come to life like putty in my hands, molded into something telltale, her areola now riddled with goosebumps.  It’s all falling into place, as was dictated by a plan I cobbled together in my head in a split second of possible stupidity.

                Come on, bitch, feel it.

                Time for the clincher.

                Shifting my weight slightly, pressing my legs down against the loose foothold provided by the underside of Julia’s breast, I lean my face in close to Julia’s erect nipple and open my mouth, sliding my tongue along the firm form.  I can feel the shivers rattle their way through my girlfriend’s body as she feels what I’m doing.  I don’t quit after this, going into a flurry of quickly licking around all sides of the aroused tit, while still continuing to rapidly caress the area around it with my fingers.  Eventually, swallowing my pride, I press my mouth down against the duct.  I can’t quite fit my whole mouth over it at this size, but it’s enough. 

                I begin to nibble, allowing Julia to feel each prick of my teeth on her skin but not enough to feel pain.  All the while, I continue my relentless onslaught of touches and strokes on her warm, dampened flesh, her heart now practically pounding beneath her muscle and slick skin.

                Being that I’m huddled awkwardly against the fabric of Julia’s bra cup, the sounds of the outside world are pretty well muted, but there’s no mistaking what I hear.  Above me, there’s a clear and distinct gasp of surprise that descends into a moan of pleasure.  It’s not very long, probably only lasting about one second in length, but if I can hear it through the bra, I know most of, if not all of, Julia’s classmates heard it. 

                Although brief, it was quite clearly a sound that could’ve only been uttered by someone experiencing intense sexual arousal.  Not even some jokester kid in the classroom could’ve imitated a sound like that.  It was real, and I’ve got the erect nipple under my apparently very capable hands to prove it.

                I get my answer when I hear the hum of voices grow louder in chortling bursts.  Laughter.  Julia’s heart actually beats faster, probably from embarrassment.  I feel the skin of her breast jiggling slightly again, nervously twisting in her chair to watch the chorus of gigglers behind her, before becoming still again as she remains docile in her chair.

                This was more perfect than I could’ve imagined.  Undoubtedly, Julia was considering rushing off to the bathroom to playfully discourage me from distracting her from learning, but now that she’s demoed her most realistic orgasm sound effect for the class, there’s no way she could leave for a restroom break without being labeled in gossip circles as being the resident chronic masturbator of the entire high school.

                Ironically, considering all I’ve seen, Julia being publically outed as such would be the greatest mercy the universe could bestow upon her.

                I hear the familiar slam of the bathroom stall door and an instant later I’m falling as Julia’s bra comes undone.  I’m swiftly scooped up into her palm, her fingers snaking around me with more zeal than normal.  It’s not a death grip, though, so she’s not upset.  That’s  a relief, at least.

                I can’t quite read her face, despite its expressive magnificence gazing down at me with longing and confusion simultaneously, her crackling blue eyes seemingly cooking something up, her plump lips curling to the side in thought.

                Oh, I can hardly wait.

                “Jack,” Julia seems to croak in a low whisper, having not spoken aloud in over an hour or so.  Clearly, the little “incident” I stealthily caused directed her to keep incognito for a while, so as to discourage her classmates from continuing to snigger at her orgasmic auditory outburst.  It’s certainly a nice change of pace to have her silenced for once.

                “Julia,” I respond in kind as calmly as possible, keeping my expression blank, letting her take the lead.  Her pointer finger begins slowly stroking along my back, which is admittedly a bit sore after the rather restrictive quarters provided by her bra, but with any luck, the results will be well worth it.  She giggles softly, smirking incredulously and shaking her head, interpreting my response as a little joke.

                “Somebody’s got a little bit of libido in them today, hmm?” she grins, her beautiful blues narrowing as she squints questioningly at me, her warm fingers caressing inward a little closer.  I can admit that despite my inability to feel a single solitary emotion of affection for this monster currently gripping me in her talon, the creamy feeling of her palm and fingers running themselves lovingly over my sore body is pretty damn pleasurable after taking a cramped thrashing in her shoe and then her bra all day.

                I nod with a little more solemnity than I intend and manage a cheesy smile.  “Oh, you know me, always looking to get you going,” I chuckle with the same good-naturedness of a child molester enacting some vile ploy involving a van and fictional candy bars. 

                Of course, Julia eats it right up. 

                Figures.

                “I guess so, you naughty little mister,” Julia scolds jokingly, waggling a finger at me while continuing to rub my back and butt with her fingers.  “But… geez… I’ve never seen you like that or… well, okay, felt, but… you know,” Julia stumbles, clearly flustered over the whole thing.  She swallows, clearing her throat heavily.  “Where did that come from?”

                “What do you mean?” I ask innocently.

                “What do I mean?” Julia gasps with genuine surprise, raising her eyebrows, before looking from side to side, afraid someone else might be present who would’ve heard her shocked statement and assumed she was having a pleasant conversation with the toilet, but there’s no one.  She lowers her voice back to the controlled whisper.  “What do you think I mean?  You started going crazy on my boob!  You almost made me…” she huffs, confused and totally without composure.  “Well, I didn’t actually… you know… finish… but let’s just say you owe me a new pair of panties.”

                Success.  And yet I’m filled with more disgust than I can adequately handle.  Such is the ironic lifestyle of a shrunken sex slave, I suppose.

                “I guess it worked then, didn’t it?” I smirk, winking at her.

                Julia seems surprised yet again at my cavalier remarks, but looks more than pleased to jump right into the spirit of things, kneading her fingers in ripples over my body and smiling sneakily.  “You’re just a little minx today, aren’t you?”

                “If you think it’s just today, then I’m not doing my job right,” I respond snappily, getting the hang of this more and more.  This conversation is easily topping my performance I gave in Julia’s god-awful musical/masturbatory aid combo.  I should win some sort of award for all this brilliant fibbing, on the slim chance that I get out of this without having my crumpled corpse flushed down a toilet like a wadded up tissue.

                “I guess you aren’t, are you?” Julia responds in kind, bringing me up closer to her face so I can feel her warm breath seeping on my naked body.  “Maybe you’ll just have to try a little harder from now on, then?  Make sure I actually…” she drawls, her eyes darting downward in the general direction of her loins.  “…reach the tip of the mountain next time.”

                “What class is next?” I ask with a sly look.

                “Health class,” Julia answers, frowning a little, not knowing where this is headed.

                “Perfect.  I’ll make sure you can give them all a practical demonstration of the female sexual climax,” I add suavely through comically gritted teeth, not missing a beat.  “You know, for… study purposes.”

                “Where has THIS Jack been?” Julia breathes slowly, clearly having trouble keeping up.  “And how do I get him to come out more?”

                “Let’s talk when we get home and I’ll show you,” I respond imperiously, letting the words have their weight.

                Julia actually gulps in heated anticipation.

                “Well, for God’s sake… don’t do that anymore, not during class I mean.  You probably heard me out loud.  I made a sound and everyone laughed, but I couldn’t help it.  You were working too well.  I’ll bet some of them will be talking about it for the rest of the week.  Jesus…”

                “Sorry,” I answer.

                “Sorry, what?” Julia queries slowly.

                “Sorry, my gorgeous goddess of kindness and perfect sex,” I quickly answer, spitting the words like frothy romantic poetry.

                “So much better.  Especially coming from my itty bitty love nugget of a boyfriend,” Julia squeals excitedly.  “And… I mean, I’m not saying I didn’t appreciate what you did for me.  It felt pretty fantastic.”

                “I aim to please.”

                “Where did you even learn to do that?”

                “Nowhere.”

                “You mean you never did it before?  I know you didn’t do it to me before, but Jesus,” Julia repeats, breathless again, brushing a few silky dark locks off her smooth forehead to see me more clearly as she tilts her head curiously.  “You mean you just…”

                “Yep.”

                “Wow.  Well, you’re going to have another ride on the stallion later on tonight, my little cowboy.  If I knew you could do that I’d have you in my bra every night.”

                Fantastic.  I probably just damned myself to even more sleepless nights nestled against Julia’s nipples.

                Julia seems to almost sense this apprehension, because she presses a finger to her lip in thought, rethinking this decree.  “Or… I don’t know.  Were you uncomfortable in there?  Just having the bra pushing on you?”

                “Yeah, sort of,” I admit freely, feeling after all this build-up, it’s safe to have a single granule of honesty interwoven into this whole sad façade.

                My gigantic girlfriend nods, furrowing her brow a little.  “I thought so.  In that case, I’ll go all free-spirited and leave the bra on the floor.  Give you some wiggle room,” she states.  “And we both know that with a little… wiggle… room, you can do a whole lot.”

                “You don’t know the half of it,” I chuckle, winking again, wondering to myself if I’m a brilliant actor or just a colossal idiot.

Julia twiddles me between her thumbs while keeping my back pressed against her palm as she leans back against the pillows on her bed, just staring at me.  I somehow always seem to find myself in this same position. 

                I imagine she likes the thought of someone hovering over her as if about to go down on her, regardless of the fact that said someone is so small he’s not actually going down on anything unless she wants him to.

                “Tell me, Jack,” Julia sighs, rubbing a fingertip slowly across my chest.  “Tell me about you… before I found you.”

                I raise an eyebrow.  This is a new one.

                “What about me?”

                “Oh, I don’t know.  Anything.  Try me.”

                “Um.  Okay,” I cough uncomfortably, still keenly aware of my nude form being plastered against the skin of Julia’s palm and unable to focus completely.  “I… liked computers?  And writing?  And not public speaking?”

                “Booooooring,” Julia drones playfully, her fingers wriggling against my shoulders.  “That’s not what I meant.”

                “Oh.”

                “Sorry, no offense, baby, but I don’t care about all that.  Like, at all.  I just want to know about the interesting stuff.”

                I try very desperately to recall a time where I might’ve taken any measure of offense to what was just said to me so callously. 

                I fail to.  In my world now, such off-handed  comments like those are the smallest of small potatoes.  I wouldn’t have even batted an eye at that if Julia’s oddly polite caveat hadn’t caught my ear.

                “The… interesting stuff?” I respond.

                I’ve got her in such a good mood after my escapades on her nipple, and now I’m not positive I can keep things under control.  What does she even want? 

                I feel totally exposed, and this time, it’s not just because she’s got me spread-eagled me in her hand.

                “You know,” she coos, drawing her hands slowly closer to her face and exhaling, letting the warm air from between her lips waft over me.  I shiver in her grasp without meaning to.  “About… girls.  Women.”

                I’m not liking where this is headed.

                “You mean, like, my friends?”

                Julia slyly smirks, narrowing her eyes playfully.  “No, you little goof.  I mean women you’ve been… with.”

                Obviously, Julia imagines me as quite the casanova at the ripe age of fifteen before she captured me.  I shrug.  “There’s nothing to tell,” I answer truthfully.  “I’ve never been with someone.  Well… not until now, anyway.”

                Her deep blue eyes widen.  She’s obviously surprised.

                “I was your first?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Oh…” she sighs, trying to disguise her delight as coyness.  “Then I guess being together is a new experience for both of us, isn’t it?”

                “I guess so.”

                “Gosh, Jack,” she coos, her voice deepening, as her hand draws close enough to her mouth that I can reach out and run my fingertips along her plump, damp lips.  I’m already nervous.

                “Yes, Julia?”

                “Do you have any idea what I want to do for you?”

                “No,” I answer truthfully again.

                “…to you, then?”

                “Who, me?”

                “Yes, you, little lover,” she giggles as her fingers finally release themselves from my body, leaving me splayed freely in her palm.  “Who else?”

                “Oh, I don’t know. 

                “You’re just begging for it, aren’t you?” she asks, her fingers caging themselves around me.  “You’re just trying to get a little rise out of me, aren’t you?”

                “You know me!” I chuckle, at this point operating on auto-pilot, and letting my mind panic freely of my consciousness.

                Julia’s other hand slides slowly down her torso.  She presses her fingers down into the fabric of her shirt, spreading them out, and grips the hem of it before tugging it upward along her smooth abdomen and leaving it bunched up just below her breasts.

                “I do, don’t I?” she calmly replies.  “And you know me, too.  More than anyone, actually.”

                “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

                “Neither would I,” she says with a wink, sliding her shirt up over her bra and along her arms.  “Excuse me a moment.”

                I have no time to react as Julia’s lips part and her hand lurches forward, sliding the front part of my body into her mouth.  My torso lands uncomfortably atop the bottom row of her perfect white teeth, although her lip helps cushion the blow. 

                Instantly I feel my face splashing into a pool of hot saliva and slaking along her curious red tongue, but it doesn’t last for more than an extraordinarily tense second before Julia’s shirt is completely off and she’s fishing me out by my ankles with her fingertips.

                “Sorry about that,” she shrugs.  “Only have two hands, after all.”

                “You’re only human,” I answer untruthfully this time.

                Julia smiles so warmly you’d think I’d just called her God Almighty and bought her chocolates.

                “Jack, you… you just…”

                “Yes?”

                “…you get me, you know that?”

                “I do.”

                “No, but I mean… really… get me.  And I love you for it.”

                “What are boyfriends for, Julia?” I drawl in kind, wiping her spit out of my eyes as subtly as possible.

                “I think we’re about to find out again, aren’t we?” Julia snickers, her eyes falling down to her chest.  “What do you say to Round 2 with my hoohoos?”

                “You’re saying I didn’t already win?”

                “I’m saying it takes a lot to beat them.  Now c’mon.”  Her hand lowers, her fingers uncaging themselves, as I roll off the side of her palm into the space between her breasts. 

                She’s not particularly as well-endowed as many her age, but to someone like me, it’s still overwhelming as I find myself surrounded by two dunes of heavy, slightly jiggling flesh held in place by a black lacy bra.

                If she weren’t such a psychotic monster, I might even find it attractive. 

                Of course, I probably would be massaging them with my hands rather than standing between them if that were the case at all.

                “Um…” I begin, pausing for a second, unthinkably planning how best to tackle Julia’s goods from this newfound angle.

                “Oh, wow!  I can’t believe I almost forgot,” Julia groans to herself, her hands tucking behind her back and fumbling with the strap.  “I’m so airheaded sometimes.”  She slides a little further down into the pillow, giving me a more level surface to stand on.

                I duck a little as the two sexy cups of her huge bra come daintily away from the two pale mounds of her breasts bursting out underneath.  With a flourish she tosses the bra to the side of her bed, and then tucks her hands behind her head to relax, her taut gaze never breaking from me. 

                She gently bites the edge of her lip as she studies me, and then purses them.  She nods with a twinkle of her eye, and I know that’s all the confirmation I’m going to get.

                Time to go to work.

                I clamber up Julia’s left breast and already feel the shivers of anticipation running through her warm skin under my hands and feet.

                With all the fear and anxiety built up inside me, the renewed feeling of her tingling flesh beneath mine is electrifying as ever.  I try not to shake myself and give away my true disgusted opinion of this whole ordeal, although I suppose Julia wouldn’t be able to tell with her own two breasts quaking gently independent of me.

                I rub my hands together as if about to do mechanical repairs and wrap them around Julia’s soft nipple.  It springs to attention even faster than when I surprised her during class.  It’s a sensation wonkier than most I’ve experienced at this size to have this mound of dark flesh rising and hardening at my mere touch, and that’s saying something.

                Like clay, molded into shape between my hands.  I’m a potter of this gargantuan psychopath’s sensitive bits.

                I press harder into Julia’s flesh and can already feel her quivering more, and each breath causes her chest to rise and fall higher.  Her entire massive body, stretching from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, serves as my living canvas and comes fully alive.

                I look up toward Julia’s face and see her eyes closed gently, her lips curled into a waiting smile.

                I still have no real idea of what it is I’m doing.  All I know for certain is that if Julia’s going to be in any mood to loosen her tongue, I’ve got to get her nice and comfortable.

                The goosebumps are springing up along Julia’s hardened nipple.  I slide my fingers in patterns around the rim of it, then gently recede and brush my palm against it, all the while applying enough pressure that, with any luck, sexual pleasure will be applied and be converted directly into willingness to dole out information to me.

                The rising and falling action below me is becoming more and more extreme, making it harder to keep a steady rhythm going.  Julia’s eyes are now clenched tight and cooed moans are escaping breathily through her pursed lips.  Trembling, her tongue emerges and laps stickily along the plump pink skin of her mouth before worming its way back into its slimy cave.

                My performance must’ve been negatively affected by these massive convulsions, because a moment later I feel a soft fingertip pressing me downward just enough to keep me level with Julia’s nipple to provide support.

                “Keep going, Jack,” she whispers, gasping awkwardly.  “Don’t stop.”

                “Never,” I hiss as sexily as I can while having an oversized digit prodding uncomfortably at my back.  At this point, I figure finesse isn’t required and begin working her nipple more aggressively between my palms, gliding them roughly over the rippling dark flesh.

                This seems to have done the trick, and a shrill gasp of surprise and passion erupts uncontrollably from her lips, her body finally rising high enough in quick succession that I am bucked like an amateur cowboy from her nipple and up into the air.

                Suspended in midair for only a fraction of a second, I look down at the landscape of the topless teenager below me, her smooth skin stretching on further down than I can see.  Her milky breasts jiggle roundly in motion with the rest of her. 

                Her eyes finally snapping open, her bright eyes glazed over, she lets her mouth hang open and sigh, preparing for what I can only pray is the final bout of this activity.

                Seeing me hovering above her from the jump, Julia’s palm is suddenly enveloping my vision as well as my body, her fingers curling around me and giving way to shadows as I am clenched roughly into her grasp. 

                It seems the throws of ecstasy leave little room for gentleness because there is not much in the way of “love” that I can feel in the firm grip of my girlfriend’s horny last move.  Wind whips into the cracks of space between the powerful fingers as I find myself seemingly falling again.

                With a hard thrust, I am deposited back onto Julia’s nipple, but this time I find her entire palm pancaking down against me, her fingers splaying and working quickly to spread me as far out across her breast as my body will reach.  Then, getting back into a rhythm of thrusting, Julia begins working me hard against her nipple, leaving me no room to move my limbs, or participate in any way.  Just as well.

                “Let me,” she manages to gasp out, chewing on the words with such little focus that it might seem to an outsider she’s forgotten how to speak.  “Let… me.”

                The bitter side of me wants to croak out to her that, no, of course she can go ahead and use my body to get herself off again like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  Of course, the bitter side of me, nor any other side, isn’t going anywhere at this moment, so I remain silent.

                In the blur of sickening motion up and down, forward and backward against the ruffled sheets of Julia’s bed, I can see her other arm pointed outward to a point below her belly button.  I can’t see what her other hand is up to, though I have a sneaking suspicion of what it is, and in the intense heat of this moment, I’m grateful I don’t have to watch.

                An animalistic screech and a last heave of her breasts followed by a long sigh and a ceasing of motion lets me know that Julia’s playtime has seemingly come to an end, and I couldn’t be happier for it.

                Now that I’ve done something for her, it’s time to see if she can return the favor in a manner that doesn’t involve raping me.

                “Oh, fuck,” she sighs, swallowing hard and finally releasing the pressure from her hand off my back, which I’m almost certain is a deep flushed red by this point.  “Sorry I had to take over at the end there, I know you were working hard, it’s just…”

                “Yeah, I get it,” I peep quietly, catching my breath.

                “You’re not quite big enough to get the job done alone.”

                “Yeah.”

                “Another first for you, then, hmm?”

                She’s correct, although I shudder to imagine anyone having a “first” at all in any way resembling what she just did to me.

                “Yep.”

                “Great.  And, now that I’ve shown you a new way to have fun,” she drawls, her fingers arching toward me and scooping me up with significantly more polite gentleness.  “It’s time for you to make a suggestion.”

                As nonchalantly as I can, I shrug and speak in a tone quiet enough that I know she’ll have to put every ounce of focus she has into picking up my words.  “Oh, you know, I guess I could.  It’s just that, when I used to… get a little naughtier… I’d... oh, never mind.”

                “What?” Julia begs almost immediately, her hand quivering with the anticipation.

                “Well…” I begin, letting her linger diligently on every word.  “I normally like to have a little… drink, to put me in a better mood.”

                A sly smile curves along Julia’s wet lips, and I suddenly feel that maybe this whole sordid afternoon was worth every humiliating lie and nipple caress.

If my life weren’t so fucked up at this current stage, I’d daresay I’m something of a genius.

                Hell, on the iota-sized chance I get out of this reality with at least one limb still intact, I may have to take up a job as an interrogator, because I’m almost certain I’d clean up there.

                The Absolut bottle, looking like a glass radio tower, rests precariously on the carpet a few paces from where Julia now sits cross-legged with me on the floor.

                Only two thirds of its gloriously incriminating liquid remains glistening in the bottle.  A few drops worth sit idly in my throat.

                The rest, miraculously, is in Julia.

                As soon as I made my casual remark about alcohol, I knew my murderous girlfriend couldn’t resist the urge to prove to me that she is, in fact, an adult capable of doing adult things, rather than a power-drunk juvenile on a subconscious quest to become empress of the known universe. 

                Carefully slipping me into her pocket and dressing herself back up sufficiently to pass for decent should she run into the maid, Julia made her way daintily down the massive main staircase of the mansion.  It seemed our previous escapades had wiped her out physically, and now all that was needed was a little extra push to put her over the edge.

                She drew me back from her pocket and clutched me in her palm once she had arrived in the sanctity of her parents’ liquor closet in the basement. 

                The place is absurd in its mass, and I would hazard a guess that Julia’s father funnels sizeable change into stockpiling the place with aged drinks, mostly wines.  Although they’re in the house so infrequently during the day to the point that I’ve never seen them, I know that they must put away a serious amount of the stuff at the lavish dinner parties they apparently hold from time to time, if the pounding noise I occasionally used to hear through the walls of the dollhouse and closet was any indication.

                Picking one of the more comparably inexpensive wines from a lower rack, Julia grinned earnestly at me, obviously hoping to see me impressed.  It was almost sort of funny to see her gripping the neck of the bottle in the hand that wasn’t holding me, her eyes bright with excitement at the very idea of engaging in such mature affairs with someone she loved so dearly.  I could feel her skin quivering beneath my back.

                Fully confident in my stunt at this point, and knowing there was no going back, I quickly shunned the option with as much subtlety as I could manage.  I shrugged and crossed my arms like some kind of seventeen-year-old liquor connoisseur and admitted that I wasn’t easily affected by wine because of the tolerance I had.

                Either I’m a better actor than I thought or Julia was far too entranced with the notion of coloring me impressed, because she didn’t even seem to dwindle on the reality that a couple thimbles full of wine would, at this size, put me squarely on my back with possible alcohol poisoning.

                Obviously, the amount wasn’t important to her, and it suddenly became clear that Julia just wanted to show me how much she could play with the ironically big boys club, because she immediately jumped to a slightly stale but nonetheless still potent bottle of unopened Absolut her father kept in a lower cabinet of the closet.

                I had to marvel at her brashness, if only for a second.  It seems likely that her father would eventually discover the missing liquid and have no choice but to pin it directly on Julia, saving the possibility of the maid being an uncontrollable alcoholic. 

                And clearly, this future threat didn’t faze my gigantic suitor in the slightest, because before I knew it I was being dunked back in her pocket for a brief stint before finding myself on the carpet of her locked bedroom.

                “So…” she cooed, slicing away the plastic wrap around the cap with a pair of scissors and twisting it open with a satisfying squeak.  “How much can you handle?”

                “Oh, nothing crazy.  I could put away a lot of it when I was… you know, bigger.”

                “Right,” Julia nodded.

                “Maybe a few droplets of it of the lid would be a good place to start.”

                “Yeah… maybe,” Julia declared hesitantly, obviously with different ideas.  Dipping her finger into the bottle neck and drawing it out, she sucked the tip of her digit to taste the powerful liquid.  Instantly, her face scrunched into repulsion, and I had to stop myself from smiling.  “You just… drink this stuff… right out of here?”

                Being so sheltered, Julia obviously didn’t know anything about chasers.  I shook my head.  “Yep.  I know it doesn’t taste great, but trust me, once you get going, it’s better.  Like coffee.”

                “If you say so,” Julia shrugged and, her eyes focused squarely on me to witness my reaction, tipped the bottle back and took a hard swig from the neck.  I was taken slightly aback, and figured I might as well show it to let her know she had succeeded in impressing me.

                “Great,” she grimaced, smiling as best she could despite obvious disgust.  “Now you.”  Her finger descended back into the bottle as she tipped it slightly, wetting it again.  This time, she drew her hand close to me, drawing her pointer finger toward my face gently as a few droplets of vodka dribbled off.  “Drink up, baby.”

                Knowing there were probably far worse ways she could’ve made me do this, I quickly wrapped my arms up around the massive pointer finger and began slurping the droplets of vodka off the sides as they clung to her skin.  I didn’t get much this way, but that was good. I need to keep a clear head.

                I nodded with gratitude, grinning and wiping my mouth off with a flourish before giving Julia a big thumbs up.  She beamed and instantly took the bottle back to her mouth, taking a smaller sip this time.

                Before I knew it, an hour and a half was gone, and now here I am, watching Julia’s inhibitions float away with every sip she takes.

                Her jaw hangs a little slack and her eyelids are droopy as she leans more like a ragdoll against the bed behind her.  I wondered for a while if she was going to be sick given the pace she’s keeping up, but for now she seems to just be awkwardly riding the wave.

                And now, finally, my throat incredibly dry from anxiety, I begin to make my move.

                “So, Julia,” I begin slowly, lying on my back casually.  I’m careful to slur my words ever so slightly so she feels just as secure in my fictional heavy buzz as in her own.

                It takes her a moment to become aware of my speech as she tilts her head down to face me and grins toothily, resting her chin on a hand.  “Yes, my little drinking honey?”

                “I’ve told you about me.  Now c’mon, fair’s fair.  Tell me about you.”

                Julia opens her mouth in an awkward smile that suggests she’s not sure whether to cackle uproariously or not.  Sniffling a little, she absentmindedly wipes at her nostrils with the back of her hand.  As she does so, I can see her wrist trembling a little, and her fingers actually miss their mark the first time, sliding up the bridge of her nose to a point between her eyes before she can even correct herself.

                “You want to know about me, huh?”

                “Of course,” I repeat, taking a few steps closer to her.  I’m not sure it’s in my best interests to get so within her range, given her increasing lack of sobriety, but I know making her feel like nothing is amiss is more important than ever right now.

                “Like what?”

                “Oh, you know…” I drawl.  “The interesting stuff.”

                Julia’s eyes pop out a little, and somehow I feel like she would’ve done it even if she wasn’t slurring her words.  Her open mouth closes slowly and twists into a cutely sly smirk.

                “God, you’re just so… so…” she begins.

                “Inquisitive?”

                “Hot.”

                “Well, thanks.  You’re not so bad yourself,” I continue, now standing right next to the exterior of Julia’s bare thigh as she stretches her legs out before me.  I press a hand to her warm skin.

                “Really?”

                “Are you kidding me?  Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

                Julia blushes so hard that her cheeks seem to rival tomatoes, though I have to assume some of that is from the increased heat generated from her beverage.  Her skin, although usually very apparent in its warmth to someone of my size, is noticeably toasty, with the very beginnings of a film of perspiration forming.

                “I don’t have much… much to say…” Julia responds with a slight struggle, wrapping her fingers around the neck of the vodka bottle again and bringing it so quickly to her lips that a few droplets splash out the opening and hit her in the cheek.  “Whoops.  I’m so klutzy.”

                “It’s okay.  It happens to everyone.”

                “You want more?”

                “Only if you’re gonna have more.”

                “Of course, baby,” she drawls, wrapping her pink lips around the bottle edge and swigging hard from it.  I’m tempted to be impressed.  She’s clearly trying hard to put on a good show of experience for me.

                If my desire to see her rot in hell for the rest of eternity wasn’t so great, I’d be entertained at the idea of her trying to navigate young adult life with this kind of access to alcohol and her clear lack of forethought into such things.

                “And now you,” she directs, tilting the bottle and dipping her finger into the liquid as it runs along the glass siding. 

                She lowers her hand again, instead pressing her fingertip into her thigh just above where I’m standing with my hands against her skin.  Twisting her finger a few times, she allows the droplets of vodka to trickle off her finger and onto her leg.  Slowly but surely, the clear drops roll their way along her firm quad and down her hot thigh.

                Understanding perfectly, I press my face against her soft leg flesh and lap up the sticky droplets as they make their way down the side of her skin.  I can feel the goosebumps on her skin rising underneath my tongue as I greedily suckle at the droplets.  Have to keep this up.

                Finally, pulling back and wiping my mouth off with my wrist, I gaze up at Julia, who now has her eyes closed, apparently just riding the wave with a smooth smile on her lips. 

                Her rich dark hair seems wilder than before, as though she had just gotten through commuting in a hurricane.  Whipped over her shoulders and forehead, it makes her look untamed.  More unpredictable than usual, even.  Somehow, I’m encouraged onward by this.

                “There has to be more to tell.  I know I’m… your first… but I want to know what drives you,” I press.

                “Yeah?”

                “Yeah.  What makes you hungry?”

                “Hungry, huh?  Just hungry?”

                “And thirsty,” I solemnly state.

                “Well, right now, for more of this stuff,” she announces a little more loudly than she probably intended, swigging a final time from the bottle and setting it down to rest beside her once again.  She wipes her wrist roughly across her wet lips and blinks a few times, as though unsure for a moment of where she is.  “But that’s not all.”

                “Oh?”

                “Nooo…” she giggles, working through her words with increasing difficulty.  “I’m thirsty for you.  And I don’t just mean you.  Like, not just hot guys.  I like…”

                God, I’m not sure I’m ready to handle this emotionally.  I grit my teeth and begin to stroke my fingers back and forth along a small spot on Julia’s thigh.

                “I like the little people.  The shrinkies.  I think they’re the best… best fucking thing… ever.”

                “Yeah?”

                “Yeah.  Since I was like… was like six or something.  I’ve liked them.  I mean, it wasn’t sexy or something weird to me back then, I was still a normal… kid.”

                Somehow, I highly have to doubt that.

                “But… but I could tell,” she continues.  “I knew what I liked.  And I remember when my daddy was prepsecuting… I mean, prosecuting somebody who used a PM… PMR… um, the machine… on somebody, and it was on the news and stuff and he explained it to me and I was like… oh my God…”

                “I’m sure.”

                “And I knew… I knew that day, even though I was like nine, what I wanted.  I knew that I didn’t really care about having a b… boy… boyfriend or something who was like me, because I didn’t want somebody like m-m-me, I wanted somebody… that could be mine.”

                “Of course,” I say reassuringly in the small pauses where Julia frowns to collect her thoughts.

                “And when I was thirteen.  On the news they had a thing about a lady who was in trouble for putting a thing on the internet.  She got beat up by her husband and he raped their kid and so she got a shrink thing and… and… and she…”

                “Yes?”

                “She took a pencil, and bent him over the back of her hand, and stuffed it up his ass.  Over and over.  And over.  And he was screaming and telling her he was sorry and he’d never touch her again and she just kept doing it until her whole hand was covered in his blood and then… and then the pencil…” Julia gasped breathlessly, her words quickening with each sentence, her eyes growing wider, her voice not clutched with horror but awe.

                I felt like I was about ready to vomit.

                “And then the pencil tip went so far in it went all the way through him and came out his… mouth.”

                “Wow,” I gawked, really just trying to keep myself from bowling over.

                “And I found it online and my dad got mad at me because he said it was too violent and stuff but when I left the room, I… I… I could feel, in my pants, I was all wet, well… it was my first time I ever felt a… you know.”

                “Yes, I know.”

                God, how badly I wish I didn’t know.

                “And so… yeah… I got one.  I found one.”

                “How?”

                “A guy on the street.  Not on the street, though.  You… you know what I mean, right?  In a house.  Out in the country.  He fixed computers and stuff but he also… also fixes… I mean, he messes with and makes them work on anybody… shrink machines, I mean.  He used to work in the company.  The big one, the Techi-whatever thing, and… he’d do it for a lot of money.”

                My genuine-sounding interest obviously was working just fine on the usually overly paranoid Julia, and I couldn’t help but feel a glow of self-satisfaction as I listened to her continue without skipping a beat.

                “And he didn’t think I could pay for it since I was only 13 but my parents… they like me to have fun since they’re gone so much, and I… I’d never really spent any of it.  Saved it so I could get one.  And he gave it to me, and then…” she snickered with satisfaction, raising an eyebrow.  “I knew… I knew he couldn’t get caught.  Just like I couldn’t.  It’s a fella… felon… felony, I mean, you know, to use the shrink machine thing?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Yeah, so… he was perfect because we both couldn’t get found or… something.”

                I could already tell very plainly where this was going.

                “So I waited for him to go home, and when he came outside, I got him, and took the bus home.  Nobody even knew I was… was gone… it was so weird, and I knew then that it wouldn’t be that hard to make him be mine, forever, until… until he was stupid… and then I didn’t want him anymore.  And he tried to get away, but… but I know… he didn’t.  I made… made sure.”

                Jesus fucking Christ.

                “Oh?” I say as calmly as possible.

                “I knew… so long ago… that I had to have one.  A machine, and… and a person.  Of my own.”

                Somehow this all is beginning to make a cruelly twisted kind of sense.

                “And I get what I get… I… I… I get what I want,” Julia struggles, her words slurring together more and more as the explanation continues.

                With surprise, I notice tears forming in her eyes.

                “But… b-but you know what, J-Jack?”

                “Yes, Julia?”

                “It’s not really what I want.  Not now.  Not after they all tried to… to leave me, when they’re all I have.  They… they’re mine, can’t they understand that?  No one else’s, and I know that.  It doesn’t have to be like this.  I used to do everything all of you needed.  EVERYTHING,” Julia screeches, her skin rattling under my touch with the intensity of it.  Her voice is cracking every couple of seconds as she fights back the drunken tears.  A few flecks of spittle spray from her lips.  “And what do I get for it?  They all try to escape.  Like they… they h-h-hate me or…”

                “No!” I gasp, and seeing an opportunity, cause my voice to waver and crack as much as hers.  “That’s not true.  I love you Julia, you know that.  And… and they could too, it’s just that they don’t understand yet.  Understand you, I mean.  They don’t know you like I do, but… but… but maybe I can help you fix that.  And then they’ll all understand.”

                “Really?” Julia gasps, whimpering dryly, as she dabs at her eyes with her thumbs.

                “YES!”

                “How?”

                “You just have to trick them into thinking it’s back to normal now.  Put them back in the house, and put me in there too, and I can convince them.  I know I can.  They trust me.”

                Julia’s eyes were positively glistening from the moisture.  “Jack, I love you… I love you so much… and the truth is, I… I love all of you, just not like how you love… a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or… you know.”

                “I do.”

                “I love you the way you used to learn in Sunday school how… how He… loves all of us.  That’s how I love all of you.”

                Julia’s hand lowers quaveringly down her body and rests next to me after bopping awkwardly on her thigh.  I’m not sure I trust her stability at this moment, but this isn’t the time to miss capitalizing on Julia’s feeble emotions.  I hop aboard and am lifted up to her face, and although she manages to not drop me, I can tell she’s putting every bit of focus she has into keeping her hand level.

                “I believe you can… can make them do it… understand, I mean.”

                “I know I can,” I restate firmly.

                “I’ll put them back in the house… right… right now… or soon.  I don’t want to leave you yet.”

                “I’m not going anywhere now, Julia.  I’m right here,” I answer, my heart pounding wildly with fear and aggression rolled into one uncomfortable package.  As she holds me closer to her face, I press my hand to her cheek and rub away at a moist tear on her rosy skin.

                “And I know you all could understand me, if you only tried,” Julia sniffles. “Because you do, and Charlie does, and...”

                “I know, I…” I begin, before stopping myself short.  “Wait.  What did you say?”

                “I said I know you all could understand that I love you, because you do.”

                “Of course I do.  But did you say…”

                “Charlie?” Julia repeats, a small burp blipping in her throat.  She blinks excessively, clearly made slightly uneasy by the word, but with how much her eyes have glazed, and how thoroughly her words have descended into 4 am fever dream standards, she just can’t help herself.  “I know he loves me, too.  He understands what I am to all of you, just like you do.”

                “Charlie,” I repeat dumbly.  “But… didn’t he try to help them… escape, too?  He… he’s in a jar in there,” I say, gesturing in the direction of the closet.

                “Oh, yeah,” she snickers.  “I don’t think he was expecting that.  I think he wanted me to… to take him around, and let him be out here with me, but… but I couldn’t ever do that to you… not with what we have together,” Julia grimaces.  “So, I put him in there.  Maybe I’ll reward him sometime, though.  Somehow.  I don’t know.  I don’t know how.”

                “For what?” I gasp, so struck with misunderstanding that I’m having trouble keeping up my façade of drunkenness in my words.

                “For telling me about Beth, silly,” she giggles.  “He couldn’t wait to tell me, the little cutie.”

I feel a massive, non-alcoholic headache ripping through my skull as Julia’s soft words seem to dangle in the air like rotting skeletons.

                Charlie.

                It was Charlie all along.  On the brink of our escape, he sold us all out and cost Beth her life.

                And for what?

                Words he had so slyly let slip begin to creep back into my ears in hollow echoes.  All his nonchalance around the situation, his suggestion to me that I just try to enjoy the rape-and-murder-filled thrill ride that is Julia, and the time that he wanted to speak to her alone for just a little bit longer than everyone else.

                The rest of it hits me a few seconds later, though it doesn’t strike any easier, and nausea comes on despite my sobriety.

                He was enjoying this.  He loved every second of it, at least until his giant queen stuck him in a jar as reward for his war crimes.  Replaying his words in my head, I could hear it all coming back, this time dripping with greed and lust.

                It was Julia he wanted out of this.

                He wanted to get his greasy little mitts on her, and sealed the fates of five and soon to be six people into a doom almost certainly involving a slow, lonesome, wallowing death in the shallow grave of Julia’s trash can.

                I give into the sickness I feel and vomit.  I cup my hands around my mouth to try to limit the amount of it that I dribble into my girlfriend’s giant palm, although it’s of little help.  It’s good that we’re drinking, so Julia doesn’t give it a second thought as she roughly rises to her feet, using the wall as unbalanced support, and meanders toward the bathroom to clean me up.

                She doesn’t even say anything as she cups me over the sink and lets water rush down from above with a cold crash, over my back and between her soft fingers.

                I can feel the fingers of her other hand on my shoulders, stroking me slowly from the back of my neck and down to my butt.  Somehow my skin manages to tingle from the warmth and delicacy of her touch, and yet I still want to wrench myself away from contact with her.  With no clothes on, the feeling of her doughy palm flesh on my knees as I crouch over the edge, and on my bare back, adds an intense air of claustrophobia as the vomiting stops finally.  Even freed from the sickness, though, I feel like imploding.

                Every inch of me is alive with fury so white-hot that if he was in front of me I don’t think I would be able to stop myself from fastening my hands around Charlie’s neck and wringing until he was dead, no matter the cost to my precarious act in front of Julia.  The mere thought of it is my only oasis as I cough up the last dregs and endure my girlfriend’s finger petting my back, despite itching to leap from her palm and scream my lungs out with every fiber of my being.

                What are we?  Could we be seen as people anymore?  Charlie’s obviously perfectly content lowering himself down to the role of cockroach that Julia has assigned all of my friends.  He can’t possibly care anymore, and honestly I almost can’t.

                But I know the others had hope once.  Is it still left in them?  Is any part of them still alive, really?

                I can hardly keep myself focused.  I want to cry at the thought of it all, but I can’t.  Not yet.  Not with Julia bearing down on me and raising her palm closer to her blinking eyes, a rolling wave of hot, briny stench billowing out of the back of her throat from the vodka as she tries to comfortingly huff onto me.  I shiver a little at the acrid air I’m treated to, but I’m so atrophied that my body doesn’t even react.  It’s not like I have much further to fall, anyway.

                “Feel better yet, little mister?” Julia coos, intoning in odd places as she embraces her drunkenness more fully.  I feel her weight shifting from side to side with a little more haste than normal as she tries to stay upright.  “Got it all up?”

                “Yes,” I manage to croak, wiping my mouth with a knuckle and looking up into her glassy expression just above me.  She tilts her head and lets a couple of her chocolate locks sweep over my body gently as can be.  It actually doesn’t feel too bad, especially since my chilled skin is still shaking beyond my control after the evacuation of my already mostly empty stomach.  I try to allow myself the chance to catch my breath again as the velvety follicle cascades of the most psychotic woman to ever walk the earth offer me fleeting pleasures that make me hate myself even more.

                Some stupid intuition led me this far.  I convinced myself in my sleep that I had to get Julia drunk in case she could reveal something useful to me.  Now that she has, I realize I have no idea where to go next.

                The first thing would be to let the others know about Charlie.  The only way we’ll ever have another opening to get out of here is if we manage to cut him out of the loop.  Ideally, that would mean getting him on Julia’s bad side somehow and letting her do the job for us, but given how dangerous it is walking on these eggshells already, our best hope might just be speaking in whispers.

                And that’s assuming Julia even lets the four of them out of the jars before one or all of them die.   For all I know, these considerations are all for naught, because we’ll all have the life squelched from us between Julia’s fingertips before another opportunity even arises.

                I’m only seventeen and I’m carrying the weight of five lives on my shoulders.  It’s anyone’s guess as to whether I can actually support that weight.

                “Jack, listen, I don’t want you to worry about Charlie at all,” Julia says quickly, breaking me from my reverie, as though she’d been holding it back for minutes on end while caressing me with her hair and fingers.  “He knows I’m your goddess, but that’s as far as he goes.  There’s nothing between us at all.  He doesn’t touch me like you can.  Understand?”

                “Of course,” I answer as reassuringly as possible.  She clearly assumed I’d be riddled with jealousy over the possibility of another suitor in her life, although I can only imagine how righteously gleeful it would make her to imagine a pair of her pet men coming to blows over her honor.

                Not that I wouldn’t throttle the absolute shit out of the bastard’s neck if I had a ten second window to do so.

                “I hope you do know.  Because nobody is above you in those jars.  Nobody.  I mean, I love you more than anyone who’s the wrong size outside, too.  You know?”

                “I do know,” I say, nodding profusely.  With the bathroom door unlocked and the sink shut off, I notice Julia is wobbling back toward her bedroom.

                “Good,” she grins, another cute little burp escaping her lips.  “It does remind me, though, since we’re talking about them…”
                “Remind you of what?” I ask abruptly, probably more so than I should.  Whenever possible, I try to draw attention away from my friends, knowing there are far worse things Julia could do than leaving them in there if she had half a mind to experiment.

                Julia’s eyebrow tilts upward just a little, but she’s clearly still too drunk to be suspicious.  “You’re an eager itty bitty beaver, aren’t you?”

                “Oh, not really.  You know.  I just want to know what you were going to say,” I correct.

                “That’s good,” she says, stroking the top of my head with a fingertip and elbowing her way back into her bedroom.  “Not that your… beaver… is all that itty bitty.”

                I chuckle to appease her in spite of myself, far too drained to shudder at her terrible joke as we arrive back in front of the closet where she’s trapped all of the closest people in the world to me in conditions that would make hardened POWs beg for mercy on their knees.

                “I just need to move them around a little.  And, you know…” she drawls with a little giggle, cupping her other hand over her mouth.  “…make sure they’re still alive.”
                I try to hide the trembling I feel deep in my bones at her words.  Even inebriated, the jagged coldness is barely contained beneath her flowery girly-girl disguise.

                “We’ll get to that in a few minutes, actually,” Julia declares as her finger finds its way down to my exposed crotch once again, her words melding into a lascivious purr as she tries to rub me off.  “Think you can handle the wait?”

                “Oh, I don’t know.  It’ll be tough!” I laugh as convincingly as possible, the old familiar chill spreading through my bloodstream as the next molestation session begins in earnest.

                Normally, Julia would deposit me safely in a pocket, but given her freer state of mind, she instead sets me on her shoulder and winds a few strands of hair around my waist for protection.  Feeling the windy pull of gravity on either side, I wrap my forearms in the individual hairs for protection and look on as she swings the closet doors open with gusto, holding her arms dramatically to the side to put on a show for her pets.

                The row of jars is just as she left them, and as the artificial light of her bedroom pours in, I can see them all flinching at the drastic shift in shadow and sound.  Looks of emaciation are stretched over their faces and naked ribcages, but all of them are indeed alive and capable of movement.  As sickening as it is to look at all of them, none of them appear on the brink of death, and I breathe the most tentative sigh of relief in my life.

                I make eye contact with Gina, and I can see that same glint in her eye from before, fainter than it used to be, but nonetheless there.

                Her mind is alive in there too.

                Her body is broken down, though, and she looks too weak to do much more than walk for a few inches.  There’s so much I need to communicate to her, but I force myself to look away.  I might break down in tears if I look at her too long.  She seems to have the same belief and averts her gaze as well.

                Julia sets about the usual ritual depositing dried food and water inside the glass prisons, as well as cleaning out the edges and allowing some fresh air in.  The poked holes in the tops of the jars can’t really be doing much in the way of oxygen provision.

                She doesn’t say a word through this whole thing, and neither does anyone else.  Finally, she performs a last body inspection by plucking each of my friends one-by-one from their jars between her thumb and forefinger.  She examines them like scientific specimen grown in petri dishes, turning them over between her fingers and flattening them against her palm just hard enough to hear them gasp a single time for air.  Not a single thought to how they’re feeling or how close to the end they might be.  They’re just her living dolls who refused to worship her and now have to live like moths.  They appear so weak that they only summon the strength to hold themselves upright when Julia lifts an arm or a leg to feel their muscles.

                First Kelly, then Brian, then Anna.  Ghostly expressions hang on their faces, though I can’t say for sure if it’s out of fear or just plain ambivalence.  Anna’s rounded belly is bulging at what I assume is the maximum it’s going to reach.  She could be ready any day now.

                I try not to think about what will happen to her if no one is able to help her during the baby’s arrival.  I need to work on convincing Julia of the direness of the situation, though I can’t help but imagine the sixteen-year-old titaness isn’t going to be forthcoming with the required medical care.

                Charlie is next.  The look on his face is the perkiest.  No surprise.  As Julia turns him over between her thumbs I can see him wrapping his arms across her nails passionately, hugging her, clearly desiring to be kept out longer in her presence.

                An intense fantasy begins to play in my mind of Julia’s fingers mulching him into a fine paste with a single flick against the heel of her hand, and I let myself enjoy it until she puts the disheartened Charlie back in.

                I know this very well might’ve been my last chance to warn them all about Charlie, but the risk felt too great without a chance to even get close to any of them.  I’ll have to bide my time, however much of it we’ve got left.

                It’s Russian roulette with days for bullets.

                Gina is last.  Julia holds her at chin level, so close that the pair of us could call out to each other and hold a conversation.  I shut my eyes as her examination begins, but I can’t help it for long, and make myself to look down at the girl I love being handled like a piece of meat.

                I can see her trembling, the terror of the towering height of Julia’s hand settling in again, but she’s clearly too out of it to summon much physical reaction.  Our eyes meet and I force myself not to blink, holding the gaze as long as I can.

                The glimmer in her eyes is brighter now and she nods her head.  It’s imperceptible to Julia, but it’s there.  I smile, against all odds of the universe.  I so badly want her to think it can be okay, even though I have no idea if it can.  I want her to believe I have a plan, when all I really have are my stupid whims and intuitions.  I want her to believe I can save them all, when I hardly believe I can keep myself moving even outside the confines of a jar.

                I smile, and I lie, because I love her, and I see the tiniest returned grimace on her quivering lips.  Hope, strung out on life support, but nonetheless there.

                I don’t know when, where, or how, but as the most apathetic God is my witness, as long as I have a breath in my throat, I am going to get everyone out of this hellhole of an existence.

                It’s only as I pull myself from this newfound determination that I notice Julia is clumsily kicking the closet doors closed with the side of her left foot, leaving the other four sealed inside their jars.

                Gina is still in her hand.

                I feel myself freezing up, not able to understand or guess what’s coming, but all the same experiencing the slimy sensation that I’ve made a huge mistake.

                The kind of mistake where you lean too hard on a button and release the nukes.

                “What do you say, Jack?” Julia ponders theatrically without breaking her concentration on the cowering and naked form of Gina in her palm.  I watch Julia’s other gigantic hand flatten against her own stomach and slide down below the beltline of her pants, her fingers clearly slipping past the panties and instantly burrowing down into her womanhood as her wrist begins thrusting vigorously.  “Want to bring in a guest to our little party?”

                I know I’m being punished for something right now.  A sin of the worst kind.  The kind where waiting for hell until you die would delay it for too long.  That’s the only explanation I can begin to wrap my head around.

                Sure, I can admit it.  From the first time I was able to put a few words together coherently I was throwing them at my foster parents in the hopes of getting a reaction.  I hadn’t liked them, and I’d bet they didn’t like me.  We all only tolerated each other by the end, back when I was fifteen before Julia scooped me up.  I wasn’t worth connecting to.  Who was I, after all?  I was a rude little asshole to them.  Why shouldn’t I get my comeuppance when I least expected it?  Maybe I deserve to be punished.

                Even with this justification, though, as I stand atop Julia’s bedspread, my knees locked for fear of my legs flopping over from weakness, while Julia begins awkwardly trying to pull her pants down in a drunken stupor, I wonder if maybe karma got me mixed up with a serial rapist-murderer-genocidal dictator.

                I figure it must at least be a possibility as Gina, naked and emaciated, sits on the bedside table in preparation for her part in all this, because of my own foolish planning.

                Nobody deserves this much punishment.

                I watch my titanic girlfriend struggle to remove her pants.  Sixteen, horny, power-and-vodka drunk out of her mind, her motor skills so impaired I doubt she could put together a ten piece puzzle with pictures on it.  She’s hardly able to keep her own consciousness on our plane of reality, and yet whatever happens to Gina and I next is completely in her hands.  It’s like watching a hurricane slowly beginning to spin in place before consuming countryside in its wake, unable to comprehend the destruction it’s causing.

                Julia’s panties go down next, tumbling down her thighs around her slender legs with a plop and getting caught in the rumpled pants at her ankles.  She nearly trips while she tries to pull her feet one-by-one out of the leg holes, her toes scrunching together as she tests the fabric’s texture on her way to finding flat ground again.  Even when she does find the ground, her balance appears tentative.  Her hand finds a wall just in time to stop herself from tumbling to the ground in a heap.

                “So, my little ones…” Julia begins, her words slurring into something that sounds more like a question.  She tucks a few stray tufts of her dark brown hair back behind her ear, her fingers trembling as she does so, though I can’t tell if it’s from sexual anxiety or just inebriation.  Probably inebriation.

                No, scratch that.  It’s both.

                “Julia,” I butt in quickly, knowing I’ve got little time to rectify this situation, with a daunting multitude of ways the situation could get even worse than it already is if I don’t do it correctly.  “Can I talk to you about something important?  Privately?”

                “Privately?  But we already did that, baby,” she drawls, taking a step forward.  “And besides, I’ve already done the strip tease.  You can’t stop moving after you’ve done the strip tease.”

                “I know, but this can’t wait.  It’s about you and me.”

                “Well, I’ll tell you what, Jack,” she whispers with a wink, shooting Gina a shifty glance.  “I’ll step real close to the bed, and lean over, and you can say whatever it is just loud enough for me to hear without our guest hearing it too.  Okay?”

                Her hands play with the hem of her shirt, which she apparently has no intention of removing, and begin playfully folding the fabric up her waist, revealing everything below in plain view.

                Her pussy glistens menacingly in the stale glow of her bedroom, and the flesh around her rosy lips, already paler than moonlight, seems practically to quiver at being unveiled.  It’s almost a living thing.

                And it looks hungry.

                I flinch involuntarily, already feeling sick to my stomach at the instant traumatic recollection of the last time I encountered my girlfriend’s vagina in ways more intimate than anyone was ever meant to, and even then I was bigger than I am now.  Before, she only got my head to fit inside.  At this moment, and at this size, her crotch looks more like a mythic cave beckoning in lost travelers to a demonic end.

                My eyes flash to Gina and I can see she’s retching a little and doing her best to hide it.

                I want to run to her and lie about how I know everything will be okay, but I know I’ve only got one clean shot at getting Julia to stop whatever twisted game she’s got in store before it even begins, so for the sake of appearances, I don’t let myself walk to her.

                Besides, I’m not even positive the fear of finding myself face-to-giant-labia with Julia once again will allow me to walk more than a few paces without stumbling on the soft terrain of sheets.

                The half-nude teen steps a couple feet closer to the bed until her upper thighs are pressed against the edge as she leans over, and I’m close enough that I could take about twenty steps forward and put my fist inside of her orifice.

                I don’t want to look, but I know I have to for this ploy to work.  So, I force myself to stare back in Julia’s direction as she rolls her shirt up past her belly button, and I try to ignore the sight of crystalline pre-cum lodged in the forest of pubic hair adorning her moist lips.

                Fortunately, I don’t have to look for long, because Julia’s leaned so far over the bed that she’s lost her balance, and it’s only with a wild leap of faith to the side that I’m able to take advantage of the decreased gravity of the buoyant bedspread and just manage to avoid getting crushed by Julia’s cleavage.

                Sober, Julia would be a weepy mess, having almost crushed the life from me under her looming breasts, but she’s anything but that right now, so instead she starts giggling, kicking her feet against the carpet as she slumps more fully onto the bed, her arms stretched outward.  I can see her hands grasping awkwardly at the sheets on the other side of the bed for support and her hips begin thrusting a little into the mattress.

                If she’s got to hump something, at least it’s the side of the bed, rather than my entire body.

                I figure there’s only a few minutes now separating me from that very fate, though, so I act fast and dash over to Julia’s face as she presses it into the bed, enjoying the soft sensation on her cheeks.

                “Julia,” I whisper as gently as possible as I come up next to her ear.

                “What?” she giggles back at a normal volume, her voice slightly muffled by the bedspread.

                “I just… don’t know about this.  Bringing in a visitor to our, you know…” I gulp, wanting to vomit at the mere mention of it but knowing there is no other choice for Gina’s sake, “…lovemaking.”

                “Why not?” she whispers back with genuine confusion.  “I just want… want things to stay… you know, interesting for you.”
                I cringe, both at the oddity of Julia actually showing concern for my sexual pleasure, and at her implied suggestion of a kidnap victim being potentially raped in front of me to be of “interest,” but I manage to hide my reaction.

                “They are interesting, Julia.  More interesting than you can imagine,” I say, disingenuous in my seductive tone but painfully truthful in my words.  “And I only want it to be with you, for always.  I don’t want anyone else getting involved.”

                Julia’s head turns toward me, suddenly removing her face from the bed sheet, and exhales deeply onto my body.  Her tongue laps out quickly from between her lips, licking at my knees, and I stumble backward in surprise at the warmth and moisture.

                “That’s so sweet of you to say, baby,” she coos, snickering at my reaction.  “You really mean it?”

                “Absolutely,” I affirm strongly, nodding my head until I think my neck is going to come unhinged.  “Why would I want anyone else intruding on our time together?  Our… our special time, where we really get to… you know, connect, as who we are!”

                I can see the gears turning in Julia’s eyes, and she seems genuinely touched.  My words aren’t coming out nearly as cleanly as I’d like, given my sheer terror at fucking this up, but it seems to be working.

                “We’re gonna connect, Jack,” she mumbles after an icy pause.  “But you don’t have to worry about other… people… getting involved.”

                “I… I d-don’t?” I gasp, not bothering to hide how grateful I am in hopes it will give her confidence in her choice.

                She shakes her head emphatically, rolling her face back and forth against the surface of the bed, the dark strands of her hair that are pulled under her cheeks becoming tangled.

                “No,” she whispers, her voice plunging a full octave.  I feel her palm suddenly scooping up behind me, probably harder than she would’ve done sober, cupping me closer to her face before swiftly moving away.  My arms throw out just in time to stop the impact against the bridge of Julia’s nose.  “And you know why?”

                “Why?” I ask uneasily, my heart rate picking up again.

                “Because the little freaks in those jars aren’t people, Jack,” she hisses with such clarity you would almost swear she wasn’t drunk anymore.  “None of them could come in here and get between us.  They’re my toys, and that’s it.  But we… we can use my toys.  And… and maybe now, they can be yours… too.”

                I scramble backward, lost in a haze of disgust and terror, and turn just in time to see up to the bedside table where Julia’s arm has reached, her fingers grasping awkwardly at the edge.

                Gina almost goes down at the impact of the enormous hand smacking the surface but quickly recovers and starts backing up.  I can see the horror in her eyes from here.

                “Julia, you don’t need to-” I croak, cut off almost immediately as Julia’s hand recovers, her fingers crawling forward over the tabletop before finding Gina and roughly balling her up into a fist.

                No.  I will not and cannot let this happen.  Not after everything else my friends have gone through, and especially not Gina.  This is not a reality I am willing to accept.

                I see Gina’s arm, gone limp now, hanging out from between two of Julia’s titanic fingers, clenched together just tightly enough to keep the girl I love from being able to move.   Julia’s arm steadily moves back toward the bedspread, hovering well out of reach for me to do anything, though even if I could reach Gina, there’s not a damn thing I could do to free her from our tormentor’s iron grip.

                “I do need to though, Jack,” Julia answers at last.

                “I don’t w-want t-this,” I manage.  “I just w-want you!”

                “And you’ll get me.  But I’m not stopping there.  It’s because you’ve shared so much with me.  Your body, your love… your whole self.  It’s time I started returning the favor,” she explains adoringly.  “And we’ll start with me sharing my toys with you.”

                I’ve got nothing left to say.  It’s like trying to grasp at a cataclysmic downpour of rain as it crashes all around me.  Drunken Julia has become more of a storm than ever.

                “Guess what?” she murmurs throatily from behind me after a pause as I try to fight back tears at the sight above.  “Bottom’s up.  Again.”

                There’s no conceivable move I could’ve made to avoid this.  With the feeling of her warm breath against my back, along with the rancid stench of her liquid conquests, Julia’s tongue extends like a monstrous, dripping snake from her lips and slithers between my legs.  There’s a hot rush as her tongue curls under my crotch, pulling me a few inches closer to her until she’s got enough leverage to slurp my legs into her mouth.

                I feel her teeth and the roof of her mouth against my kicking feet, my arms flailing wildly to stop her from wadding me all the way into her cavernous mouth, though through no power of my own, Julia’s lips close around my chest so that my upper half is still dangling outside her mouth.

                My world cascades into a windy rush.  For a second I think Julia is falling, but then I see her free hand catch against a dangling bed sheet as she rolls off the bed and lets herself plop down against the floor, clearly savoring the release to gravity.

                The impact nearly allows the rest of my body to be sucked between Julia’s lips and into the slimy darkness, but her tongue pushes back against my legs to prevent this.  Immediately afterward, I feel the gooey muscle working around my skin and trying to force its way back between my legs.  I can avoid her for a few seconds, but every surface of the inside of her mouth is lubed up with saliva, and her tongue is strong.

                With that brief struggle over, Julia closes her eyes as she lies on the carpet, propping my body up with her tongue, and begins sucking on the lower half of my body like a lollipop.  Startled and violated as ever, though, it’s nothing compared to what I feel as I watch the hovering hand holding Gina finally go to work.

                Julia’s fingers brandish Gina, rippling around her body and working her into a pose with her tiny arms and legs pointed straight down as if for a pencil dive.  Then, with delicacy I would’ve thought it impossible to see Julia enacting on the most hated of her shrunken pets, especially while drunk, she inverts Gina’s body so that her head is pointing straight downward.

                Right above Julia’s glistening rose-colored pussy.

                Bottoms up.

                Once again I make very painful eye contact with Gina, knowing there’s nothing I can do to make it better right now.

                She’s far away down the length of this twisted goddess’s body, and I’m distracted by the feeling of Julia trying to get me off as I sit half-consumed between her eager lips, but I can still see that glimmer of faith amidst the coldness in her eyes, faint as could be, but still there somehow.

                Hang on, Gina.  Hang on.

                Julia lowers her chosen human dildo down with an eerie regality, slow and deliberate.  Gina seems to be hyperventilating, but I see her manage to gulp down a deep breath and shut her eyes as she passes into the shallow forest of pubic hair before her head and shoulders descend between the quivering lips of Julia’s labia.

                Fuck you, Julia.  Fuck you.  Fuck you.  Fuck you.

                FUCK.  YOU.

                I’ve never wanted to scream anything so loud in my life.  I want to shout it out until my throat bleeds and my heart bursts out of my chest.  I want to kill Julia.

                But I can’t.

                Deep moans emanate from Julia’s throat, echoing through her mouth and rattling my body through her tongue as it continues lapping against my junk and sampling my flesh.  Every satisfied cry sends a shiver through her tongue.  She turns her wrist a few times, swirling Gina’s head inside her trap for maximum effect before plucking her back out again with aplomb in a gooey little spray.  Gina screams, spitting out a vile mouthful of Julia’s moisture and gasps in another lungful of air before she is dunked back into the waiting maw of this sixteen-year-old psychotic’s nether region.

                The pattern continues on for several minutes.  I know that’s all it is because I can see Julia’s cartoonishly pink digital alarm clock up on the bedside table from here, but if I couldn’t, time would’ve been lost to the disgusting sexual machine we’re all involved in now as Julia threatens to suck my body into her mouth while simultaneously raping and nearly drowning Gina in squishy flesh and dribbled pre-ejaculate.

                In and out.  In and out.  In and out.  Remorseless, even as Gina struggles to hold herself straight and instead is simply mashed against the monstrous genitalia.  Every dip of Gina’s body between Julia’s legs fills me with renewed rage in my bones.  And I can do absolutely nothing about it.

                I thought I was powerless when Julia did the same thing at my slightly larger size.

                I know now that was foolish of me to use such a term to describe an act so relatively childish compared to the wrath I now see Julia is capable of.

                This, now, is the true meaning of powerlessness.  All I can do is watch the person I love continually forced in and out of a giant murderous bitch’s crotch while she uses me to stimulate a different orifice in full view of the whole sadistic event.

                Julia orgasms suddenly with explosive force as she yanks Gina’s throttled and soaked body out of her vagina for the final time, her hand quivering and drenched in her own fluids as well as she sets it down to rest on her stomach while still keeping her fingers wrapped tightly around my battered best friend.  With a violent gasp, her lips open fully, spitting me out of her mouth and allowing me to tumble down the crook of her neck.

                I see my chance and take it.  Dashing over the heaving breasts as Julia’s act catches up to her, I pull myself along the rumpled folds of her enormous shirt and reach Gina, the closest I’ve been to her in what feels like years, as her body hangs halfway out of Julia’s ruthless fist.

                Her eyes are shut, her hair is sopping, and her skin is pulled tightly against her underweight frame, but I can see her chest rising and falling normally.  She made it.

                I let out a sigh of relief for some reason, knowing full well there’s so little to be grateful for in my tortured being besides this small act.

                Knowing my seconds are limited, and turning to confirm that my girlfriend’s head is still reeling from the climax with eyes closed, I crouch down near Gina’s face and plant a quick kiss on her forehead. 
The copious amounts of Julia’s heinous moisture stick to my lips, fury coursing through my veins again as I’m instantly brought back to the moment when I received the same treatment with far less violence.

                Gina’s eyes open again, and I see a little more light returning to them as she recognizes that I’m here, despite the paranoia we share in the stupidity and risk of what I’ve just done.  She’s so beautiful.

                “I will get you out,” I declare under my breath, my voice quavering.  “I swear to fucking God I will get you all out of here.”

                I’ve never been so sure of anything I’ve ever said as in this moment.

                She closes her eyes again, a faint smile crossing her lips, and whispers with more strength in her voice than I could’ve expected after the thrashing she just took: “I know.”

                I stand up, shaking, and then remember something else with horrible urgency as I feel the rise and fall of Julia’s body beneath me slowly returning to normal.  Knowing I may not have another chance, I lean back in again and whisper, “Charlie told her about Beth.  Don’t trust.”

                Gina nods again, recognizing the gravity of it, but manages to maintain composure as I quickly back up and move toward Julia’s face again, standing atop her left breast just as she finally fully recovers and tilts her head down to look at me, a smirk on her lips.

                “Holy shit,” Julia mumbles excitedly, the dregs of inebriation still in her words.  “That was wild.  I can’t believe we never tried that before.  Wow.  I guess things are really going to start changing around here for us, aren’t they?”

                I open my mouth to answer, my aggression and relief all melded into one sick miasma, when something catches my eye on the opposite end of the room.

                It’s small, narrow, and just above the stained wooden paneling that runs an inch off the ground around the perimeter of the room, but despite the distance, my animalistic concentration gives me unmatched clarity.

                A hole in the wall.  An oasis in the darkness, covered up at all times by a low footstool with an embroidered seat that Julia keeps against the wall right next to her closet.  I’ve never seen it before, and wouldn’t have if I wasn’t so low to the ground yet still at a vantage point on Julia’s breast.  It looks too neat to have been made by a rodent, and a second later I realize that the rounded square shape of it is from the leg of the footstool.  Julia must’ve punctured the wall on accident at some point when picking up the stool, and simply covered it up, knowing she could allow anyone into her room to fix it, and confident that none of her pets would ever even get close enough to the carpet to discover it.

                Even from here, I can tell.  It’s just large enough for a person of three inches in height to fit through.

                “Oh, believe me,” I say finally, clenching my fists behind my back as the final dredges of humanity untainted by this devil-on-earth begin to piece together a plan.  “I know.”

“So what now, my little lover?” Julia whispers as she continues lying on her back and staring at me atop her breast, her breath still labored after the body-rattling magnitude of her climax.  Her other hand reaches forth, her fingertips sliding down from my chest to my crotch.  “Have I pleased you with my toy?”

                “More than you can know, Julia,” I say, confidence returning in tandem with the violence of my mind at this moment.  Seeing that hole in the wall was the extra boost I needed to push me into whatever off-the-rails train of thought I’ve boarded.  “There is one tiny little thing I want, though.”

                “Anything for you, baby,” Julia coos.

                “Let’s take your toys out of the jars.  And put them back together,” I say, clasping my hands loudly to discourage myself from shaking anew at the impossibly large gamble I’ve just posed without so much as a stumbling build-up.

                “What?” she asks with a frown, her usual paranoia leaking back into her voice through the haze of drunkenness.  “Are you serious?”

                “Absolutely,” I declare.  “It’s the perfect time now.”

                “Why?”

                “Because…” I begin, clearing my throat but refusing to let the salesman pitch in my voice back down.  I can feel Gina’s tired eyes upon me from behind as she lies clenched in Julia’s cum-splattered fist.

                It’s now or never.

                “The jar thing was smart.  You know they haven’t been able to talk at all since you put them there.  No chance of getting out.  You reminded them who’s in charge.  You reminded them who they all belong to.”

                “Uh-huh,” Julia says with unnerving neutrality, obviously trying very hard to figure out what my game is.

                “But now that you and I are at this stage in our relationship, where we can use your… toys… however we want, why…” I roll onward, hardly daring to know what it is I’m doing.  “…what good are they if they can’t move?”

                I know my chips are on the table.

                I know one false move will destroy my world with apocalyptic finality.

                I know I could never have attempted this conversation prior to this moment, at the full height of Julia’s raw passion, having proved that I’m willing to watch her masturbate herself using Gina’s head without further comment.

                And I know what I’m saying right now could mean one or all of my friends will die, swiftly followed by me once Julia finishes figuring out what I’m doing, and probably in the most tortuous fashion she can concoct in the darkest recesses of her mind.

                But I do it anyway, for that glint of hope I saw in Gina’s weary irises.

                Julia raises an eyebrow and nods her head, allowing me to continue.

                “You’ve spent all this time and all this care teaching them.  Teaching all of us what we are to you, and it’s finally, finally worked!  You’ve got it all!” I say with impressed laughter.  “But right now, they can’t use what they’ve learned.  They’re just sitting there, wasted.  All you have to do is let them get back to the place where they can work for you, and you’ve got it made.”

                “Uh-huh.  And why’s that?” Julia asks, seemingly more in control with every word.  Apparently mania as deep as hers allows her to be sobered by mistrust.

                “Here’s why,” I continue confidently as I climb off of my enormous girlfriend’s breast and start walking up along her neck toward her chin.  “Right now, you’ve got five insignificant little toys just wasting away, when, if they were just a little bit stronger, they could be worshipping you with every fiber of their being!”

                “Right,” she simpers, rolling her eyes.  “They’ll WORSHIP me.  All that time I spent trying to teach them, and it never sunk in.  They still tried to get away from me.  You think they’re so much smarter than they actually are, Jack.”

                “Maybe I do,” I lie.  Grasping at a few stray silky strands of Julia’s dark hair, I clamber up the side of her face until I’m crouching on her cheek, close enough that I can see her nostrils flaring.

                My heart is on an infinite sprint.  I’m hardly aware of my skin anymore.  All I have left is my sight and my mind, squaring off with this omnipotent demon girl.

                “But they’re still animals,” I continue.  “And like animals, now that they’ve seen how bad things are when they go against what’s good, and what’s right in their lives… dedicating themselves to you and only you… well, I think they’ll not only thank you for letting them worship you, they’ll beg you for the right.”

                My short speech is finished and my throat is so dry I doubt I could’ve uttered another five words without gagging.  I feel ice on my spine and I’m afraid to exhale.

                Did I just damn us all?

                A smile crosses Julia’s lips.

                Maybe.

                “I knew I picked my boyfriend right,” Julia whispers sultrily, running her tongue along her lips.  “So you want me to open up the jars and put them all back in the house.”

                “Yes,” I answer back.  “Give them a little time to figure it out, though.  To let them realize what they’ve been missing.”

                “How does that happen?”

                I pause, chewing it over, and then feel it steadily coming together in my head.  “Let me talk to them.  On my own.  Just for a little while.  Let me tell them that as their goddess, you are prepared to accept the offerings of your pets after they’ve had the chance to learn.”

                “How do you know they’ll listen?”

                “Because they’ll see me alone and know what I’m saying is what I believe.  And because you’re my goddess, and I know now why I’m here.  I can make them see it too.”

                Julia bites her lip in thought, blinking softly.  “All right, Jack.  All right.”

                Wow.

                Even as her drunkenness tapers off, I can see right through Julia right now like never before.  Perching atop her pale face and rosy cheeks, framed by chocolate locks, I watch her baby blue eyes ferociously boring a hole through me.

                Months ago, I would’ve been terrified of the sight.  Julia’s gaze has the capacity to work someone over with a few shifts of her pupils and render a life sentence in less time than it takes to blink.

                In her eyes now, I see none of that power.

                I see a young girl blinded by love.

                For the first time in two years, I feel approximately five feet and ten inches tall again.

                I am mighty.

                “Gina!” I roar out condescendingly in my best acting voice, determined to keep my focus on Julia.  “Do you finally accept Julia as your one and only goddess, the one you were born to serve?”

                “Yes!” she screams out emphatically from far behind me.  “Forever!”

                It was just two words, cried out at the top of her lungs, but immediately I can tell the difference.  Just as Julia’s eyes have changed for me and made her weak, I hear the opposite effect in Gina’s words.  The terror that once dripped from her voice as she found herself trapped in our tormentor’s feminine finger cage has dissipated.

                “See, Julia?” I say, crossing my arms with more authority than I’ve allowed myself in a long time.  “Together we can make them see that you are their everything.”

                She doesn’t say anything else.  Any other day of our lives, I know I’d already be under the toughest scrutiny and probably the toughest shoe Julia has to offer, but not after making the ultimate show of what I’m willing to put up with.  Julia couldn’t possibly think I care about Gina after what we just witnessed.

                If she was testing me, it’s failed.

                And only at the expense of whatever part of me was still innocent.

                Two fingers gingerly pluck me from her cheek and coil gently around my body as she struggles to her feet.  As we rise shakily into the air, I’m very aware that she’s trying not to stumble and still fighting off the tail end of her first real taste of alcohol.

                Are we really doing this?  Was all of that truly enough?

                Despite my swelling optimism, I manage to temper it this time and keep my mind steely and mechanically locked on my goal.

                The last occasion we all allowed ourselves to hope wildly beyond logic resulted in the crushing of our spirits and the death of an innocent woman.  I will not make that mistake again.

                I’m too alive now for that to be allowed to happen.

                Peeking over to the other side, I see Gina, now sticky with Julia’s dried ejaculate, having managed to hold herself a little more upright with determination in the gargantuan fist.  We shoot each other a reassuring glance but don’t risk anything longer than that.

                Julia kicks at her closet door with her big toe, fumbling to get the right amount of force so that the thing will swing open, finally resolving to simply use her elbow on the brass handle, allowing the light in once again.

                I force myself to look at my friends fully this time, nude and weakened in their hole-poked jars in a line on the shelf.  I can’t let myself lose sight of what’s at stake here.

                Charlie sits himself up, his beady eyes trained in a thousand-yard stare at Julia’s fully exposed labia.  Brian and Kelly manage to sit themselves up again at the opening of the closet door to see how Gina and I fared, but Anna is the one I’m worried about.  Looking even worse than when Julia opened up the closer to collect Gina, she’s clutching her rotund stomach and appears to be crying, her breathing coming in heavy exhalations.  She wasn’t just days away like I thought when I saw her earlier; her contractions must’ve started this morning.

                Our time’s even shorter than I’d thought.

                Flattening her bare foot against the roof of the dollhouse, Julia drags it out against the carpet by curling her toes around a small handle, then flicks at the light switch on the side with her heel.  She’s clearly too wobbly to bend over now, and seeing how she has Gina and I in her grasp, I appreciate the foresight.

                “Attention, everyone,” Julia addresses toward the jars, correcting her slurred words with incredible effort.  She seems to be getting worse again, her pupils darting back and forth like hyperactive insects, but nevertheless, her voice as directed toward my friends is kinder than I’d have thought her capable.  “This lesson… might have come to an end.  Depending on you.  It would please your goddess to see that you have all learned from your selfish and stupid mistakes.  But first, Jack has some things to say to you.”

                Her fingers quivering, either from anticipation or unsteadiness, Julia taps at the trapdoor roof of the dollhouse to open it and then lowers Gina and I through the opening and into the strung-out cup elevator.  Miraculously, we both manage to remain standing next to each other as we climb out and back into the house.

                I have to resist the urge to throw my arms around Gina in a long-delayed embrace that I want so badly it makes my body physically ache, but I wait.  I have to.

                Casually, Gina’s hand brushes against mine then sweeps away before Julia can spot us, and warmth fills in under my skin, giving me courage.

                The next few moments would be almost comical if they weren’t so violently and traumatically tragic.  Julia somehow manages to unscrew the lids of each jar without dropping and shattering them by holding each carefully over the shelf.  First Brian, then Kelly, then Anna are loaded into the elevator and join us in the house.  Julia at least has the tenderness to cradle Ann in her fingertips rather than roughly scooping her up when she realizes how far she’s inflated.

                Evidently, my speech about the importance of these people to Julia as a goddess has managed to sink in, or at the very least, her sickening puppy love for me has allowed her parasitic sense of desire to accept it.  I’m fine with either one at this point.

                Charlie comes down last.

                “Wait, Goddess!” he cries out in her grip, his voice hoarse but his confidence and resolve seemingly stronger than ever after his imprisonment in that jar.  “I’m… I’m ready to do it now, just like I always was!  To call you the one and only center of my life.”

                “That’s good,” Julia says with a dismissive nod as she deposits her biggest little fan next to all of us, covering her mouth to quiet a belch in the back of her throat.  “I can’t wait to see it soon.”

                The same rage from before broils under my skin at the sight of Julia’s ass-kissing confidante being within range of me, but I manage to quell it for the time being.

                “I’ll be back soon!” the sixteen-year-old titan declares hurriedly, placing a hand over her mouth again to cover an airy burp, desperately smacking the roof of the dollhouse to close it, followed by a slam of the closet door on the other side.

                Even through the buffers of the dollhouse and the closet door, I hear the splatter of vomit into a waste basket as Julia succumbs to her state, followed by the mad thumping of her feet as she races to the bathroom for the next round.

                The six of us, lost in a terrified reverie until this moment, turn, stripped bare and tired, and see each other anew.

                The moment the roof closes, leaving all six of us in the plastic hallway of Julia’s dollhouse, is muted insanity.

                Brian and Kelly throw themselves down on the ground next to Anna, who promptly bursts into continued screams of the labor pains she’d apparently been holding back just to avoid Julia’s prying eyes upon her for as long as possible.  Her cheeks are flushed purple with the strain.

                The father of her child puts his hand in hers, allowing her to squeeze it, while Kelly feels Anna’s profusely sweating forehead.

                “Anna, my God, you’re… you’re…” Brian cries out happily, running a hand through her hair and kissing her forehead tenderly before giving her proper space again.  “You did it.”

                “I know,” she huffs through the pain.

                He doesn’t have to say it: that she lived long enough to get to this point.

                Everyone present knows he was about to say that, and we’re grateful for it too.  In the back of our minds, I think all of us had doubts.  Anna’s body has clearly taken the worst beating out of all of us due to the additional life she has to provide for, with her arms and legs drained painfully thin, and her cheeks sunken in.

                “Is… is everyone okay?” Gina asks with tired relief, looking around the area dimly lit by cheap Christmas bulbs as we remain standing next to one another.

                “Fine,” Brian says mindlessly, his focus entirely on Anna.

                “Living,” Kelly answers, shooting Gina a quick glance and an impossible smile of reassurance.

                “Just peachy,” Charlie chuckles, coughing weakly.

                Gina’s hand reaches for mine and I clasp it, our fingers intertwining with all our strength.

                I didn’t know it was possible to feel joy so pure amidst so much chaotic hell.

                But it is.  I feel it right now.

                Safe and perfect, I never want to let go of Gina’s hand again, and the thought of having to do so soon makes me want to cry, but there’s no time for that now.

                “What about you?” I whisper into her ear, comforted by the feeling of her hair against my forehead.  I know the answer can’t be good, but I need to hear it anyway.

                “I’m fine.  I’m making it,” Gina says with a nod, her face solemn but her voice truthful.

                “I’m so sorry,” I choke out after a stinging moment.  I don’t know how I could possibly say it well enough to make up for she just went through.  “I’m…”

                “Don’t,” she adds immediately, giving my hand another squeeze.  “Don’t do that.  It wasn’t your fault.  You know it was a test as much as me.  None of what you just did would’ve worked if I hadn’t done that.”

                “But-”

                “But nothing.  Stop it.  It’s okay, Jack,” she reassures quickly, gently shushing me as she tightly wraps her other arm around me.

                I have to bite my lip to keep it together.  Gina’s the one that just got physically tortured, not me, and yet she’s the one helping me keep my composure.  Where does she find it within herself to do that?

                Despite my unique leverage point over our captor, I’m reminded of how truly fragile I am without these people.  Especially her.

                “It’s happening,” Anna screeches suddenly, tears rolling as she clenches Brian’s hand.  Everyone’s attention is pulled back to her.

                “Kelly!” Brian croaks desperately.  “You have to help her.”

                “I… I d-don’t know if I…” Kelly stutters, drawing her hand away from Anna again.

                “How much do you know?  You can do it, can’t you?”

                “I… I can d-do it.  I’m an EMT.  Or… I was,” the former nursing student answers, shuddering with anxiety.  “I… I m-mean, I remember, I think I can d-do it, b-but…”

                “But what?”

                “I haven’t done it myself before, okay?” she cries, starting to break down as she holds her hands together to keep them from shaking.  “I don’t know for sure!”

                “Whatever you know is gonna have to be enough.  We’ll help you,” Brian continues, swallowing hard and placing a hand on Kelly’s shoulder to calm her.  “I know you can do it.”

                “Okay.  Okay.  Help me prop her up against this wall,” Kelly instructs, stiffening her upper lip and wrapping her arms around Anna’s shoulders for support.  “Gina, the hankie in that room…”

                “On it,” Gina replies, clearly still sapped of strength, but given impetus from the dire need of the situation, and darts into the room to collect the blanket from one of the leftover matchbox beds.

                In the haze of the moment and fear for Anna, I finally shift my gaze over to Charlie, who’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed.  Out of everyone, he appears to be in the best health.

                That won’t be lasting for long if I have anything to say about it.

                “Here!” Gina says, bundling the blanket-sized handkerchief down against the floor to give Anna a place to lie down while Brian and Kelly help shift her onto it.

                “Brian, talk to her!” Kelly orders, having fully fallen back into her training, as she positions herself at the end of the cloth in front of Anna, whose legs she gently parts to make room to work.

                “Anna.  Just look at me.  Please.  Squeeze my hand again,” Brian pleads, clearly not sure of what to do but frantic with fear for the woman he’s fallen for in the middle of our enslaved existence.  He tries to brush the matted hair off of Anna’s sweating face, but she still has a hard time focusing on him.

                Gina backs up again next to me, her gaze fleetingly shifting over Charlie, who remains leaning silently against the plastic wall.  Hugging me closer to her again, this time she presses her lips to my ear.

                “What about him?” she whispers, then turns to face the delivery group again, trembling each time Anna releases a blood-curdling scream.

                “Julia was drunk.  Told me it was him who told her about Beth,” I answer back into her ear.  “He just wants to get with her.  That’s it.  He believes everything she’s fed him.  Doesn’t care about getting out.  Doesn’t care if we die.”

                “What are you going to do?” Gina hisses back to me.

                “I’m gonna break his face,” I grumble.  “Maybe the rest of him too.”

                “What?”
                “I saw a hole in the wall.  Under the flower stool outside.  Just big enough for us to fit through.  But we can’t tell the others with him still listening.”

                “Be careful,” she whispers back with concern.  “Do it quick.  If he catches you, he might hurt the others.  Anna can’t move right now.”

                “I know.  Nothing to hit him with, though.  Walls are too thin to work either.  Have to do it myself.  Fast.”

                “Okay,” she says.  “I’ll help you.”

                “Are you sure?”

                “We’re this far,” she whispers confidently.  “He won’t get away with it.”

                “All right,” I say.  “I’ll hit his head in the wall.  You kick his groin.  I’ll grab his neck.”

                She nods, squeezing my hand a final time as we finally move apart and casually take a few steps closer to the doorframe Charlie is standing in.

                Things turned ugly in the hallway quickly while Gina and I talked.  The cloth is already soaked with blood, and Anna is in full-fledged hyperventilation, but things seem to be going well, all things considered, as Brian and Kelly do their best to ease the opening.

                Our chances would be infinitely better if we had the time to wait for the baby to arrive before confronting Charlie, with the help of everyone.  Unfortunately, I know time is slipping through our fingers as it is, and Julia will eventually will recover from her binge drinking, return to collect me, and see how willing everyone is to bow down to her undeserved might.  I’ve at least relayed the information to Gina, but that may not be enough.

                I shoot Gina a final glance as we come to stand next to Charlie, signaling to her, and then I act before I have the chance to second guess myself.  Caving my hand against Charlie’s head, I slam his skull against the plastic wall as hard as I can.  It’s not much, but it brings on a loud enough smack to at least disorient him.

                Gina is quick, swinging her leg back and kicking straight forward with the might of a striker directly between Charlie’s legs.

                “What the fuck!” he groans out, instantly crumbling to his knees, hands around his crotch.  I double back behind him and wrap an arm around his neck.  I’m skinny, but wiry, and pulling as tight as I can against his windpipe, I can hear his breathing constricting almost instantly.

                “Jack!” Brian cries out, turning to see the commotion.  “What the hell are you two doing?”

                “He’s the one!” I grunt, struggling to stay latched onto Charlie as he fights to remove my arm from around his neck.  Gina nets him a solid punch to the gut, though, slowing his progress as we wrestle.  “He told Julia about Beth.  He’s the reason she’s dead!”

                “What are you talking about?” he shouts, rising to his feet, Anna’s blood on his hands as Kelly continues to work on the screaming mother-to-be.  “That’s not possible.”

                “Yes it is!  She told me he did, right after we told him about it.  I got her drunk, and…”

                “You what?”

                “Just LISTEN!” I demand, but at that moment Charlie manages to wriggle away from me and swings his elbow back into my stomach, knocking the wind cleanly out of me.

                “Get the fuck off me, you little piece of shit,” Charlie growls, rising to his feet and nursing his reddened neck before kicking me hard in the ribs.  “Swear to God, climbing up inside that pussy so often is getting to you.  You think you can say shit to me?  You with your getting to live in the lap of luxury while she has the rest of us living in fucking jars?”

                “God damn it, STOP it, both of you!” Brian yells.  “You’re not doing this right now.  Anna is…”

                “If you want to help her, you need to help me stop him!” I manage, trying to pull myself to my feet again.  I see Charlie rearing back to kick me back down, but Brian grabs him under the elbows and wrenches him backward.  This ends with Brian getting a swift uppercut to the chin that forces him to release the scruffy newcomer.

                “Everyone STOP!” Kelly bellows out, still entirely focused on Anna, but understandably confused by all this.  “Don’t touch each other.  Just talk.”

                “Afraid that’s not possible, hon,” Charlie says, rolling his neck and popping it while clenching his knuckles together to ease them after punching Brian.  “Julia’s best boy decided I haven’t already sunk low enough and is trying to take away the last good thing I have: my name.  I’m not about to let that happen.”

                “Then we’ll make it possible,” Brian answers, putting an arm in front of Charlie from behind and shoving him hard down to the floor, kicking his legs out from under him.  “Stay down until we talk this out.”

                “I have no beef with you, ass-wipe.  You let me alone, and let me fix up Jackie-Boy’s face for all the lies he’s throwing at me, and then maybe we’ll have a nice little chat after,” Charlie threatens.

                “You’ll talk now, you piece of shit,” Gina snarls, stamping a foot down once again without mercy onto Charlie’s crotch with a sickening thud.  Body convulsing, the defeated man resorts to cradling his damaged goods.

                “Anna!” Brian gasps, swiveling to check up on her at the sound of another scream.

                “She’s doing it, Brian.  The baby’s coming now,” Kelly calls out without turning around.  “Push, Anna.  Push!”

                “Jack, what was it that you think you heard her say?” Brian asks, turning back to me.  “I… I mean, I’m not doubting you, but…”

                “She said he loves her.  That he wanted her to take him out of here and play with him too, and that he couldn’t wait to tell her about Beth,” I repeat back, the words told to me by the drunken Julia melded painfully into my memory.

                “Think about it, Brian,” Gina pleads.  “The way he was when he got here, and then the day we told him.  About the plan.  The next time we were outside.  That was when…”

                “He wanted to talk to her alone,” Brian finishes dryly, nodding his head, his gaze glazed over.

                “You people are a bunch of fucking sickos, you know that?” Charlie spits out at us from the floor, turning over to his side as he continues working through the pain of Gina’s ball-busting kick.  “What, you think I let this guy’s sister die just to get my dick wet?”

                “You know you would,” I say back.  “You told me to enjoy my time with her.  That I should learn to like what Julia… does to me.”

                “So what?” Charlie challenges, steadily rising to his feet despite his weakness.  “You’re all so fucking depressed all the time, you can’t even look at what’s under your nose and take advantage of…”

                “WHY?” Brian roars out at last, the rage pent up to maximum as he lands a crushing blow on Charlie’s jaw that instantly knocks the man back to the ground.

                “God damn it, man, why won’t you believe me when I…” Charlie simpers, rubbing at his chin.

                “Beth didn’t do anything to anyone, ever.  She was innocent!” Brian cries, following up with another kick that gets grabbed by Charlie, toppling our friend to the ground.  Gina moves in to hit him again, but he’s ready this time, striking her in the knee and forcing her to back up before he can follow up again.  I help her to her feet and pull her back out of his range.

                “Now just hold up for two more seconds,” Charlie spits.  He holds his hands up to discourage us from approaching again.  “Use your fucking heads for once and look at what’s going on here.  From the sounds of it, Jackie-Boy’s supposed to be convincing us to grovel at Julia’s toes.  To show her we’re reformed or some shit.  Now maybe he wasn’t planning on doing that, but she sure as hell is expecting to see it when she gets back.  If you actually believe what you believe about me, how’s it going to look when she comes back in here and sees my face busted up on the ground?”

                My heart begins to sink.

                “He’s right,” I declare gravely.  Charlie may be spouting bullshit to keep people off of him, but unfortunately, he’s also absolutely right on this final point.  It’s time to switch tactics, however unlikely it is that they’ll work.  “We have to stop.”

                “I don’t care what Julia thinks I believe about her anymore,” Brian snarls, his eyes still fixed on Charlie.  “I’m not letting what this son of a bitch did go without taking a few teeth out.”

                “You’ve got a kid on the way that would prefer you didn’t get your head popped like a fucking cherry tomato, man,” Charlie points out, crawling a few inches further back and wobbling to his feet again.  “No matter what you think I did, you have to see that.”

                Brian’s fists clench, but he manages to take a few steps back as he shoots Anna another glance, knowing the bastard is right again.

                In the distance, I hear the flush of the bathroom toilet, followed by the high-pitched crash of water in the basin of a sink.  Julia’s almost pulled herself together again.

                “Listen.  You’ll all be able to stay in here as long as we don’t do anything else,” I insist.

                “And then what?” Brian demands, stumbling a few steps closer to me, still overcome with grief for his sister.  “I’ll be damned if I let that motherfucking giant psycho lay a finger on Anna or this baby.”

                “Push!” Kelly instructs loudly to Anna again.

                “I have a plan,” I say at last.  Gina’s hand shifts in my grip, and she’s clearly confused as to what the hell it is I think I’m doing.  Frankly, I empathize.  “We’re getting out of here soon.”

                “If beating this lowlife’s face off before Julia gets back here is off the table, then I don’t see how you can plan to do that without him getting in the way,” Brian snarls.
                “I didn’t!  I fucking… I fucking never.  Yeah, I said a few things about her pussy, and yeah, I wanted to talk to her alone because I wanted to kiss up a little so she wouldn’t squish me like a goddamn roach.  But I still want the bitch to go down as much as any of you,” Charlie defends.

                “Look, Charlie,” I say coldly.  “You want to show us you’re not here to screw us over anymore?  Keep your mouth shut and follow my lead when the time comes.”

                “Will do.  Just don’t expect yourself to get off easy after we get out of here,” he answers in kind.  “Once we get past Mega Bitch, all bets are off.  Clear?”

                “Crystal,” I say before returning my full attention to everyone else, forcing myself to drown out the sound of Anna’s cries.  “She’s out there puking up what I got her to drink.  When she gets back, I tell her you all want to worship her the right way, but to do it, you have to be clean and worthy enough to be near her.  Then we all say we need her to take us to the bathroom and wash.”

                “What good is that going to do?” Brian demands desperately as he returns to sit next to Anna while keeping a sharp eye on the mellowed Charlie in the corner of the hallway.

                “Because,” I say, holding my breath.  “There’s a hole in the bathroom sink wall behind the blow dryer stand.  I don’t think she remembers it’s there.  We get her to put us near it, I distract her while you all get moving, and we go.”

                I sense Gina’s hand twitching again at this statement she knows to be a blatant lie, but she manages to not move another muscle.

                “Right,” Brian says with a nod.  “And how do we know he won’t do anything while we’re getting out?”

                “Simple.  Julia trusts me.  Things get bad, I just tell her he tried to attack me, and then he’s not going anywhere anymore,” I answer confidently, knowing perfectly well that this won’t really save us if she manages to catch onto evidence that a new escape plan is afoot.

                “Great plan.  No flaws in that one,” Charlie drawls, rolling his eyes.  “I hope you people never treated anyone else this way that came through this place.”

                “Only the fucking traitors,” Brian retorts.

                “PUSH!” cries Kelly again.

                The attention in the room is suddenly redirected again as Anna grunts and lets out a final glass-shattering cry for so long that her throat is shredded hoarse, and then she collapses, her neck going limp against the folded handkerchief bedding.

                The baby’s cry wails out as it fully emerges, persistent and defiant in the face of the nightmare it’s been born into.

                “ANNA!” Brian shouts, dropping back to his knees and lifting her head onto his lap.  “C’mon, c’mon, stay awake.  Look!”

                “You did it, Anna,” a wearied Kelly states, scooping up the goo-drenched and screaming baby into her arms for warmth.  “She’s all right.  She’s breathing fine.”

                “C’mon, Anna.  Stay awake with me,” Brian pleads softly, watching with relief as Anna’s eyes open halfway.  “Did you hear?  It’s a girl.  We have a baby girl.”

                “Girl,” Anna repeats meekly with a nod, utterly spent well beyond the point of normal human capacity for pain and weakness.  “She’s okay?”

                “She’s got healthier lungs than my baby sister has back home,” Kelly declares reassuringly, attempting to juggle the length of the umbilical cord while wrapping the baby in an unbloodied part of the cloth.  “She’s fine.”

                “Good.  Kelly.  T-T-Thank you,” Anna whispers, closing her eyes again.  “I’m…”

                “Yes?” Brian asks.

                “I’m tired,” she whimpers.

                “I know,” he says, trying to keep his voice from choking up.  “But it’s okay.  I’ve got you.”

                “I know,” she repeats back.  “But…”

                “What?”

                “I don’t think… I’m coming with you.”

                Instantly we all understand, and a collective knot forms in all of our stomachs.  Worst of all, we can see in her face and hear in her voice that she’s right.

                “No.  No, no, no.  You are.  You are coming with us.  I’ll help you, carry you, I’ll do whatever it takes.  We’re all getting out of here soon.  Jack found a way,” Brian explains hurriedly, as if he realizes his time with her is running out quickly.

                “He did?” Anna asks optimistically, her volume dropping as she opens her eyes wider to see me in the corner.  “Thank you, Jack.”

                “N-No p-problem,” I mumble stupidly, forcing a smile and nodding solemnly.  Gina clasps her hand with mine again.

                “Gina?” Anna asks next.  “Where are you?”

                “Over here,” she answers, biting her lip.  “Here, Anna.”

                “Keep fighting, sweetie,” Anna grunts, coughing painfully.  “You’re so strong.”

                “I will,” Gina utters.

                “Brian,” Anna says with a hard swallow, disoriented again, her words frayed by dehydration and loss of blood.  “Brian?”

                “Yeah?” he answers, short of breath as his eyes turn red and wet.

                “Take care of her.  Don’t… don’t let her…”

                “I won’t,” he vows.  “Nothing will ever touch her.”

                “I… I love…”

                “You too,” Brian whispers as tears spill down his cheeks and into Anna’s hair.  He clutches her head to his chest as she closes her eyes with a final sigh. 

Brian keeps Anna’s lifeless body held close to him, trying to keep her warm as his tears trickle over her moonlight-pale face.  The rest of us except Charlie, who’s chosen to keep quiet amidst our hurried farewells to our friend, aren’t doing much better than him.

                I am hollow.

                I promised I would get them out.  All of them.  I’ve already failed at that.

                Julia’s body count ends here.

                Outside the dollhouse, I hear the rumble of the closet door opening, followed by the telltale yanking away of the plastic roof.

                “Well?” Julia sings merrily as her face fills the plastic frame above, wiping a hand across her lips, clearly operating under the belief that we didn’t hear her unfortunate purge a few minutes before.  “Are you all ready to show me how much you appreciate me?  Or is it time to go home to the jars again?”

                “We’re… r-ready,” Gina whimpers.

                “What’s going on?” Julia hisses suspiciously, sensing the mood immediately and trying to get a better view into the house.  “Where’s Anna?”

                “Julia,” I say as steadily as I can manage, having pulled myself thoroughly out of Gina’s embrace before the looming figure of our captor had a chance to see.  “Anna is gone.”

                The face above us freezes, blinking in disbelief, lower lip quivering.

                “W-What?” Julia asks as her voice wavers with sadness, when suddenly the baby belts out a fresh scream.

                At this point, her discovery of the baby’s survival was totally unavoidable without endangering everyone in this house, but all the same, the little girl’s cry fills me with dread.  I see Brian go rigid.

                “Is… is the baby all right?” Julia gasps, pressing her face against the opening of the dollhouse for a closer look, throwing her hands over her mouth in shock at the sight of the incredibly tiny life form.  “Oh my God.  She’s so… so…”

                I’m glad Julia doesn’t finish her sentence.  I think any descriptor she assigned to this baby that she herself just rendered motherless through inhumane torture and neglect would make me too sick to stay standing.

                “Give me Anna and the baby, please,” Julia instructs with chilling politeness, recovering her composure in a snap and jamming her hand down into the hallway.  She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth impatiently.  “Now.”

                Fuck.

                “Julia,” I speak up again, quickly forcing myself to swallow the frog in my throat.  “Are you sure you don’t want them to handle it?  There’s no need to bother someone like you with-”

                “No, Jack,” Julia snaps in abruptly, not angrily, but with enough force to let me know the discussion is ended.  “They won’t be able to take care of her well enough in there.  I’d like them both now, please.”

                I can sense the gears turning in Brian’s head.  No single action in his life has ever been as hard for him as this one; I can see it in his eyes.  But he knows just as well as us that refusing Julia’s demand will only result in the house being opened completely, his useless defenses flicked aside, and the baby taken into the custody of a suddenly much more aggressive sixteen-year-old monster.  The safest thing now, at the height of all our hopes and fears, is to put his daughter directly into the hand of the young girl who killed the woman he loved.

                Biting his lip and trembling with the continuing tears, Brian and I work to lift Anna’s body onto Julia’s fingers, while Kelly cradles Brian and Anna’s daughter carefully behind.

                I can see Kelly’s hand linger for a second longer on the baby’s head, clearly just as pained at what we’re all being forced to abide by.

                “I need someone to help with the baby and clean her up,” Julia declares as she lifts Anna’s body and the baby up and out with incredible tenderness and care.  “So she’ll be safe.”

                At least she’s talking some sense, though this doesn’t bode particularly well for our getaway.  Brian opens his mouth and raises a hand in a panic to volunteer for the job, but Julia’s well-known distaste for him allows her to snidely ignore his desire, and we can tell the choice has already been made.  I see the harrowing blue eyes shift with subdued menace onto her romantic competition instead.

                “Not you, Brian.  Gina,” Julia mumbles weepily, the full emotion over losing one of her human hamsters finally settling in.  Brian manages to keep himself silent, having realized that absolute compliance will be required to keep the baby safe.  Julia squeezes her other hand down into the opening of the dollhouse and flattens her palm to the ground.  “Get into my hand.”

                There’s no hesitation.  Gina brushes past me as she turns, holding her head high and taking a deep breath, then whispers rapidly into my ear: “If you get the chance, go.  Please.”

                My stomach churns.  I want to ignore what I’ve heard, but the strength in her voice commands me to listen.  I swallow hard, processing it unwillingly, knowing I’d say the same thing to her if we were switched right now.

                I watch as Gina steps onto Julia’s fingertips and into the opposite palm that holds Anna’s body, along with the still-attached and screeching baby girl.  She does it without a second’s pause for her fear of heights.

                Watching so much that I care about in this world rising up once again in the omnipotent hands of our self-appointed goddess makes it tough to keep my eyes up on the sky, but I force myself to.  Focus.

                In the most backwards way imaginable, though, I’m reassured by something I see in Julia’s eyes.  The same adoration and protectiveness she displays when gazing at me, this time directed at the baby, with a slight difference.

                Almost motherly.

                It’s a mortifying sight as Julia holds her hand closer and closer to her face to examine an infant less than an inch long, a loving smile slimily spread over her pink lips, yet somehow I know instinctively that she won’t harm the little girl, at least not without being pushed to the absolute edge first.

                Unfortunately enough, that time might not be far away, if I miraculously manage to pull off my plan.

                Julia disappears from view with Gina and the baby, her steps heavy but steady as she returns to the bathroom.  Brian and I remain standing somehow, though Kelly sinks to her knees and buries her face in her hands, sobbing.

                “I finally figured it out,” Charlie states with satisfaction, placing his hands on his hips as he steps forward again, breaking the silence with the unwelcome coldness of his words.

                “Figured what out?” I ask icily, my vision still trained on the opening in the dollhouse roof.

                “What the smell on her was.  Gina, I mean,” he says with a self-assured nod of his head.  “It was bugging the hell out of me.”

                “What are you even…”

                “Pussy juice,” he declares confidently.  “All the shit dried into her head and shoulders, too.  That’s what it was.  Pussy juice.”

                I clench my fists tightly enough that my knuckles pop a few seconds apart from one another, my skin burning hot and white like an iron.

                “I thought we told you to stay quiet until we get out of here,” Brian says, hardly present, as his attention just as much as mine is fixed to the opening in the roof, waiting breathlessly for Julia to return.

                “You know what the problem with all of you is?” Charlie opines slowly.  “You’re such a bunch of goddamned dejected sacks.  No wonder you can’t keep yourselves together.  If I was all of you, living like this and not letting myself just let go sometimes, I’d ask Julia to squeeze my fucking brains out the top of me.”

                “Shut the hell up,” Kelly scowls through her tears.

                “Oh, I’m sorry,” Charlie simpers condescendingly.  “Did I touch a nerve?  Hit a little too close to home?  Maybe you’re just not looking hard enough at yourselves, then, to see it.”

                “You’re running out of chances,” Brian threatens.

                “But you wanna know something?” Charlie states, stepping away from Brian and tapping me on the shoulder this time.  “Jackie-Boy here is the worst of all.  He gets to see some hot girl-in-girl action, and what does he do?  He fucking cries like a little bitch about it.  Can’t even appreciate the goddamn art of pretty little Gina going for a swim up Julia’s gorgeous cunt.”

                My body is screaming for me to turn around and deliver wild haymakers to Charlie’s face until his lips cease to move, but I don’t, and it’s only after a moment of painfully confusing turmoil that I understand why.

                “Don’t do it, Brian.  Kelly,” I warn slowly, shutting my eyes and trying to calm myself.  “He wants us to do it.”

                “Yeah, that’s right.  I do,” Charlie confirms, tapping Brian on the shoulder.  “Because then I get to show off what I can really do to your face when you make me mad enough.  Like right now.”

                “Because then this whole thing goes down if we attack him anymore,” I correct.  “He’s just trying to screw us over again.”

                “Of course, it’s not like it would be very hard getting a hit on any of you.  You can probably barely see through all your fucking pansy tears,” Charlie adds, holding his arms out, leaving himself wide open for the punch we all so badly want to deliver.  “So maybe I’m aiming too low right now.”

                “I think you are,” Brian responds, his fists clenched as well.

                “Brian,” Kelly cries, sniffling.  “Please.  Don’t listen.”

                “C’mon, buddy,” Charlie says, looking Brian square in the eye as he realizes who the most vulnerable of us is right now.  “I mean, for fuck’s sake.  Your girlfriend’s probably getting snipped off your new brat and then flushed right down the toilet alongside Julia’s post-bender piss.  Let’s see some kind of reaction about that.  Let’s see if you really care.”

                Kelly and I are already wrapping our arms around Brian’s elbows and bracing ourselves against the ground in anticipation as he lunges forward at Charlie.

                “Brian, STOP!” Kelly pleads as we immediately begin losing ground to our rampaging and emotionally broken friend, his resolve easily able to let him overpower two people.  “He’s just saying that to…”

                Brian’s already well beyond the point of listening as he breaks free of us and charges clumsily forward.  Charlie holds himself wide open, prepared for an attack that could render our whole “worshipful little runts” act a waste and a lie in the eyes of Julia.

                I’m not letting Charlie win, not when we’re this close to the end.

                Taking advantage of Brian’s slowed pace in crossing the bloodied handkerchief, I tackle him around the side and knock the both of us to the ground, holding an elbow over his stomach to discourage him from getting up.

                Brian sputters, reddened eyes glaring at me with pure lust for revenge, and for a moment I think he might hit me.

                Before he can consider it further, Kelly follows us to the ground, pressing her knees on Brian’s outstretched arms and holding them down.

                “Just hold still, Brian!” Kelly shouts, placing a hand on his warm forehead.  “Breathe.  It’s okay now.  Stop listening to him.  Just look at us.  Breathe.”

                Closing his eyes, Brian allows more tears to fall down his face, and his muscles cease constricting against the weight of Kelly and me in an attempt to rise.  We did it.

                “Oh, come the fuck ON!” Charlie growls, taking a few steps closer to us.  His tone is still emphatic and theatrical, but there’s something else coming through now as he sees us refusing to lower ourselves to his level: desperation.

                “You come on,” Kelly hisses at him.  “Take your games and back off if you still want to get out of here at all.”

                “Just look at you all.  You all make me fucking sick,” Charlie continues, crossing his arms and meandering around the hallway in an attempt to fill our field of view, since we refuse to turn and look at him.  He circles around the cluster of us on the floor until he’s the closest one to the opening in the ceiling above, though his attention is still squarely on us.  “You can’t even look at me when I talk to you.”

                “Then stop doing it and knock your head against that wall until things start making sense again,” I suggest.

                He’s lined up right where we need him now.

                “I meant what I said,” he says, refocusing on me.  “You’re the worst of all.  God damn it, kid your age?  How many nights before you ended up here did you spend touching yourself to the thought of a fucking dime like Julia even taking a second look at you?”

                I bite my lip.  Despite Charlie’s elaborate and last-ditch effort to enrage us, he’s right to an extent.  At fifteen, without any romantic prospects or first kisses, I’d sometimes lie awake at night fantasizing about someone with half Julia’s beauty giving me a chance.

                I know now perfectly well that I would give those odds up forever just to have a single peaceful night of solid rest.

                “Are you even listening to me?” Charlie bellows, his volume rising simultaneously with his level of desperation as he realizes his chances to ruin the plan are rapidly disappearing.  I can tell he wants us to look him in the eye, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.  Not yet.  “You had it made in the fucking shade: food, water, place to sleep, a hot-ass piece of jailbait throwing herself at you every second of every day, and you can’t even pull your head out of your ass long enough to fully appreciate it.  I mean, the fucking tits, and the…”

                “I’m not sure she’d appreciate you talking about her that,” I declare suddenly, intensely meeting his gaze without allowing myself to break it.  Now that he thinks he’s got my attention, he won’t be moving anytime soon.  “You’d make her angry.”

                “You’re fucking with me, right?” he chuckles heartily, clutching his sides.  “You can’t return the favor she’s giving to you, and you won’t even listen to someone who calls her like she deserves to be called.”

                “Well, what would you call her, then?” I ask innocently, seeing that the fury in his urgent eyes has now robbed him of all situational awareness.

                “She’s a severely fuckable sixteen-year-old.  We had the chance to do whatever we wanted with her in here!  Anything,” Charlie laughs in disbelief at my perceived ignorance, practically drooling in his broken-down state with a libido frustrated to the point of insanity.  “What would I call her?  You’re out of your fucking head.  She’s the best piece of skin you or I were ever going to have the shot at, and the best part is she didn’t even realize it yet.  Jesus Christ.  She’s such a gaping whore for you for some goddamned reason and you’re wasting the best parts of her away!  All we had to do was work it out, say the right shit that she wanted to hear, use her fucked up little brain for us, and she’d have let us go to town on that ass.  We could just get some fucking relief!”

                “You don’t sound quite ready to worship our goddess,” I comment obviously.

                “Ready to WORSHIP our g-” he pants, unable to finish the sentence, his fists shaking wildly.  I’m starting to think he’ll attack me now instead of the other way around.  “How tightly has she wrapped your spine around her finger?  She’s a goddamned psychotic bitch with a raging pussy.  She’s all alone out there, slobbering for cock!  We could’ve had her worshipping us if you hadn’t FUCKED us all OVER!  So there.  That’s your fucking answer.  Now what?”

                “Well, I don’t know,” I shrug, finally breaking eye contact to look up at the opening of the house behind Charlie’s back and up to Julia, who’s been looming silently overhead for the past minute and a half.  “What now, Goddess?”

                Charlie’s mouth hangs open, his knees locked in place.

                Julia’s face, tightened and white-hot with the old familiar rage I used to fear but now am grateful to see, disappears from view.  I haven’t seen a look in her eyes like that since Beth arrived, and before that, when she drank Jimmy out of a glass.  Her fingers, trembling, wrap around the opening of the house.

                “Grab a wall,” I hiss to Kelly and Brian, who immediately recognize what’s coming and roll to the side just in time to latch around a plastic doorframe.

                The force that propels the dollhouse outside the closet and onto the carpet is monumental.  I’m surprised it doesn’t do a complete 360 flip.  After rolling easily onto its side, it begins to lift upward again before slamming back down right-side up, tossing our personal gravity into oblivion for a few breathless instants.

                The three of us manage to get a good enough grip on the wall to avoid being thrown down the hallway, but Charlie, in his paralyzed stupor, is not so lucky, and is tossed to the end of the plastic aisle, slamming onto his head and landing roughly on his ankle.  He screeches in pain, clutching his skull, too terrified to look up.

                Julia wrenches the main house open at the hinged halfway divider, leaving us exposed with absolutely nowhere to run or hide.

                The stand-off that follows is enough to chill everyone to the spine twice over and leave the average human in tears, if not for the hardened mental conditioning we’ve been forced into over the years.  Julia hunches before the dollhouse, hands flat on the ground, oceanic blue eyes narrowed intently on us all and capable of catching on fire.

                She holds the posture of a young girl opening up her dollhouse to innocently play with her toys, but with so much palpable malice emanating from her face that not even an outsider could be remotely fooled by the façade.

                “Jack,” Julia intones icily at last, lips pursed and eyes unblinkingly locked to Charlie.  “I thought you said you could convince them.”

                “I…” I begin.

                “He did, goddess,” Kelly declares bravely from next to me.  Lowering herself to her knees on the plastic floor, she grabs Brian by the wrist and pulls him down into a kneeling position as well, which he swiftly obeys as the pair of them put their hands together as if in prayer.  I follow their example, just for good measure.  “We are ready to serve you, now and forever, in whatever ways you please.”

                “Yes, goddess,” Brian repeats respectfully with head bowed.

                “Wow,” Julia says with a nod, clearly pleasantly surprised.  “You are something, Jack.”

                “Bunch of lying SHITHEADS!” Charlie roars, fighting to stand up.  “Not a goddamn thing they’re saying or doing right now is the truth.”

                “Is that so?” Julia answers coldly to him, cocking her head to the side so that a few of her dark locks cascade messily over her eyes.  “I can’t believe you’ve got the nerve to say that to me after everything that just came out of your little freak mouth.”

                “M-M-Maybe I said some things in a rougher way than I meant them, b-but I’ve never lied to you, Julia!” Charlie gasps defensively at the direct address, dropping to his knees as well, though for entirely different reasons.  “Never!”

                “I thought you understood how things are, Charlie,” Julia simpers with legitimate disappointment.  “But now I see why you did everything you did.”

                “I…”

                “Stop talking now.  You’ve said enough.”

                “PLEASE!  J-J-Just l-listen … they were making a plan to escape, right now!  T-This is all part of it.  Don’t you s-s-see that?” Charlie pleads as logically as he can with a girl so deep in a god complex that she undoubtedly abandoned logic the moment she emerged from her mother’s womb.

                “Why the hell should I believe you?” Julia demands, leaning in closer and closer to Charlie’s corner of the exposed plastic hallway.

                “Because I was right the first time!  I’ve never done anything that wasn’t meant for you.”

                “Right after everything I heard you say?  Jack asked you everything so nicely, and what did you do?  Said I wasn’t a goddess.  Said you… you thought… you could use me, for… for your sick little dick!” Julia manages with difficulty, obviously still queasy from her drunken antics but even more violently ill and almost choking at the mere thought of a man using her for his own purposes: her greatest personal fear, realized.  I knew it could be done if Charlie just kept talking, though I hadn’t anticipated him going quite as in-depth as he did.

                Julia’s hand rises from the carpet, her soft fingers curled into menacing claws, and casts a shadow over her cowering and loudmouthed prey as she prepares to snatch him up.  Even from here I can see the sheen in her palm of clammy sweat.

                It’s clear her venomous words aren’t just an act to intimidate us into submission like normal.  This isn’t simply one of her sick head games.

                She’s wired.

                “PLEASE!” Charlie squeaks uselessly as our sixteen-year-old warden’s fingers clench like peachy cobras around his body, instantly squeezing away most of his air.

                “Didn’t I tell you to stop talking to me, you little insect?” Julia spits, lifting him up from the dollhouse and closer to her face, her wrist trembling with fury.  Her pupils have dilated dangerously.

                Her tongue slides across her lower lip, leaving a glistening sheen of saliva.

                “NO!  WAIT!  T-T-The hole!” Charlie screams as his head pokes out the top of Julia’s fist, squirming with pants-wetting terror at the sight of her tongue, finally deciding it’s time to throw everything on the table.

                “What hole?” Julia demands immediately as her brow furrows, her fingers squeezing thoughtfully around Charlie’s sides.

                “The fucking hole in the bathroom wall behind the blow dryer!  They were gonna act all puppy-nice to you right now, get you to take them in there to clean up, and go through it when you weren’t looking!  It’s all your BOYFRIEND’S idea.”

                Julia pauses for a moment, her fist halting in midair as she chews it over.  I see her eyes dart over to me, clearly too hesitant to believe without proof that I’ve stabbed her in the back, before returning to Charlie, who she then places with oddly delicate care back onto the house floor, though her hand is still shaking.

                “I’ll be right back,” she says solemnly, rising to her feet and marching away for the bathroom, her mighty steps causing the house to quake in rhythm.

                I glance furtively at the low-arched embroidered footstool that sits no more than ten seconds run from here.  With the house open and Julia on the rampage, this is going to be our opening.  Close, but it’s too risky to go now.  We’ll have to drag this out as far as we can to make it work.

                “Well, I hope you’re all fucking pleased with yourselves,” Charlie snickers under his breath, looking over at Brian and Kelly, who have hung their heads in waiting, refusing to give him the time of day any longer.  “I hope you’re all real fucking pleased.  You could’ve avoided this all if you just managed to not piss me off when all I wanted was to help you.  And now look.  I’ve come out on top.”

                “No,” I say.

                “No?” he chuckles, turning back to me.  “Why’s that?  I just plugged up your last door out of here because you all were ready to throw me to the dogs.  And why in the holy hell are you fucking smirking at me?”

                “Because,” I answer simply.  “There is no hole in the bathroom.”

                If Julia was a thunderstorm before, she’s a hurricane now as she reenters the bedroom with so much force I think she might kick the entire dollhouse across the room if she can avoid falling over.  The rush of wind as she comes to a stop nearly knocks us all over.  She slams down to her haunches again instead, holding herself up on her fists like a gorilla as she leans her face in close enough for Charlie to feel the heat of every breath.

                “That was the last time you will ever lie to me, you sick little worm,” Julia gags out with a sneer, pursing her lips and inhaling hard before spitting a thick wad of saliva onto Charlie like a cannonball.

                The force of the gooey phlegm cocktail is enough to bowl over our former compatriot against a plastic wall, the vodka-and-vomit-scented mass stickily engulfing his face and chest as he slumps down, fighting needlessly to remove Julia’s spit from his eyes so he can see again.

                Before he can even manage to clear away enough goop to see, Julia’s fingers are pinched around Charlie’s left ankle and yanking him out of the house fast enough to give him whiplash.

                For a moment, I think she’s going to lift him up by his leg to her face for a personal talking to, but she’s apparently well past those kinds of manners, because with a flick of her wrist she instead sends Charlie sailing in the other direction across the room.

I shudder as Charlie careens through the air and bounces on the carpet.  He gets a few inches of extra air before rolling over onto his stomach a solid eight feet away from the dollhouse.

                Even if he didn’t break at least a half dozen bones in the fall, Julia is swiveling around far too quickly on her knees to give him a chance to avoid whatever’s coming next, suddenly giving us an uncomfortably magnified view of her still-completely exposed lower half.  She crawls forward the few extra paces it takes to reach him, her pale cheeks clenched, her feet dragging slowly behind with toes squirming.

                Brian, Kelly, and I are all pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, still on our knees.  I feel Kelly’s arm twitch next to me, and Brian’s eyes dart toward the two of us, looking for confirmation to make our deadly move.

                “Well?” Kelly whispers so softly that we barely hear it.

                “Can’t… not without…” Brian mutters bitterly.

                “We won’t leave them here,” I say under my breath, lowering my head.  “We’ll come back.”

                “You two go,” he hisses.  “I can’t.”

                “Brian, please,” Kelly begs gently.  “Staying won’t help her.  Julia won’t let you near her.  And we’ll need your help to get them out later.”

                “Can’t.  Promised Anna.”

                “You saw it.  She won’t hurt her.  We’ll find a way back to get her.  I swear to you,” Kelly pleads.  I nod in affirmation.

                Brian bites his tongue, closing his eyes again, once again forced to mull over an exceptionally painful prospect with only seconds to consider it.

                With some pain in my gut, I realize Julia may not exercise the same control for Gina, when it suddenly occurs to me that despite Julia’s hatred for her, there’s no way she’ll give away her one and only bargaining chip before getting me back in her hands.

                The only big question left is: will she still want me back?

                I’ve been in her head more intimately than anyone, perhaps even Julia herself.  Emotional, finicky, and scared of losing her pets, Julia’s blind passion for the lies I’ve been feeding her conquers all.  Her eyes have told me everything I need to know.  I know she won’t hurt Gina or the baby.

                At least not until she’s first been given the opportunity to personally mash me into a fine paste for what I’m about to do.

                “You don’t even know how fucked up you were when I found you!” Julia accuses coldly of Charlie as she crouches over him.  “I gave you so many chances to turn it around.  This pathetic little life.  I showed you what it could be like if you dedicated yourself to something important, and what did you do?”

                “I…”

                “WHAT DID YOU DO?” she screams at the top of her lungs, her whole body quaking now, flecks of spit spraying down upon him as well as a thunderous echo.

                Charlie’s reduced to a sniveling mess as he sprawls out completely, probably unable to speak coherently now, and on this point alone, I sympathize with him.

                “Typical.  Can’t even face up to your sins when they’re shown to you,” Julia responds with deadly calm once again, turning off the volume like a light switch but losing none of the loathing that drips from her words.

                Her hand hovers over Charlie in a fist as her thumb slowly extends and lowers itself onto his right arm, poised with purpose.

                No matter how we feel about Charlie now, the palpable crunch that follows is enough to twist all of our stomachs into a dozen knots, as is the shriek from the victim’s throat as Julia squishes his limb under her thumb into a bloodied pulp.

                “When?” Brian whispers hollowly now that Julia’s back is turned and her attention squarely on Charlie, the decisive question clearly like poison in his mouth.

                “Not yet,” I answer.  “Wait.”

                “Why?” Kelly asks imperiously.

                “She could notice.  Not yet.  Trust me.”

                “When?” Kelly follows up.

                “Later.  At the end.  When she loses focus.  You’ve seen her do it,” I say.

                “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Brian groans softly, lowering his head again.

                “He’s right,” Kelly agrees more quietly even than before.  “Wait.”

                Julia plucks Charlie’s writhing body up from the carpet, leaving a gooey crimson stain on the carpet where his arm used to exist, and slides herself backward into a seated position.

                “You want me, don’t you, Charlie?” Julia questions seductively.  “You want the good stuff.”

                Even though we can’t see him as Julia palms Charlie with her back to us, I know he must not have reacted, because I see her shoulders twitch at the affront of being ignored.

                “Answer me now.”

                “NO I DON’T!” he bellows meekly.

                “I said STOP LYING!” she screeches again, clearly so off the rails of her emotional equilibrium that I doubt even she has a clear plan for herself or her toys now.  “Stop lying, Charlie, or I take the other arm.”

                “Y-Y-Y-Yes… yes,” Charlie sputters with defeat.

                “Good.  Don’t treat me like I don’t know everything about you, because I do.  I heard it from your own filthy… little… mouth.  You thought you could control me.  Make me… do things for you.  You thought you could…” Julia chokes out, before her tone abruptly fills with sunshine, the gears turning in her head once again, “...go to town, on my… ass.”

                All Charlie can muster is an incoherent sputter.

                “And being the very forgiving goddess that I am, who am I to deprive you the joy?” she says with sudden perkiness.

                Brian, Kelly, and I all raise an eyebrow, our breaths bated.

                “I just want you to know, you sick little bastard,” Julia huffs with a disappointed sigh.  “You’ve made me do this.”

                This has to be it.

                “Start moving to the other end,” I whisper at last, moving sideways on my knees still without making a sound toward the far end of the divided plastic second floor hallway closest to the stool.

                Brian and Kelly follow, shuffling silently on their knees, all of our eyes averted from the carnage on the carpet.

                We stealthily reach the other side of the house and look back up toward the mayhem to see Julia hoisting her bare rear end a few inches off of the carpet with one hand, while the one clutching Charlie’s quivering body reaches behind her, the hand inching closer to her crack.

                Charlie better pray he has strong lungs.

                The sight is gruesome and yet impossible to look away from as Julia gingerly parts her butt cheeks and jams Charlie inside, clenching him between them and using her thumb to shove him in as deeply between them as he’ll fit.  As the titanic girl shifts herself upward for better leverage, her legs spreading further apart, I can see her adjusting Charlie’s body with surgical precision so that his face is snugly pressed into her swollen anus.

                We can hear his muffled screams from here, but Julia’s thumb gives him an extra push until we see part of his head threatening to force through the darkened hole, instantly silencing him again.

                “You wanted to go to town?  Then show your goddess how pleased you are and lick me, bug!” Julia shouts at last to ensure he can partially make out her orders, settling back down onto the carpet, letting her cheeks clasp back tightly together around her prisoner.  “Lick.  Me.  Now.”

                It probably takes a second to fully register within the claustrophobic and sweaty hell pocket Charlie finds himself in now, but after a second’s pause, Julia freezes in place and settles into a series of pleasurable shivers, sinking closer to the floor.

                “Don’t… STOP!” she roars out in a horrifying blend of rage and ecstasy, letting her hand snake back between her legs, two of her fingers sinking into her pussy lips again.  Her eyes close.  Her hips thrust up and down against the carpet, her ass crashing against the carpet with heated abandon on each pump.

                “Now,” I whisper curtly to my two friends, and they must’ve realized this was the moment before I even spoke, because there’s no hesitation as we rise to our feet and clamber down the edge of the plastic floor, landing with a soft thump on the carpet that is swallowed completely by the inflating moans slurring from Julia’s throat.

                “LICK ME!” Julia cries, lost in her own world more deeply than ever before, thrusting and bouncing against the carpet in a desperate need to use every muscle spasm against her prey.

                I doubt Charlie is still capable of licking her at this point, let alone capable of resembling an intact human being.  And I doubt Julia is particularly concerned with this.

                “Go,” Kelly instructs us, seeing the opening.  And we do.

                We’re sprinting.  The wind is on my cheeks and in my eyes, and my heart is a machine, pumping adrenaline throughout.  Kelly, then Brian, then me, one behind the other, our senses trained purely on the hole under the stool just ahead.  This girly-girl dungeon of Julia’s bedroom that’s served as our personal hell for well over two years, cavernous and humbling in its magnitude, fades from view.

                I hear a monumental slam against the floor and chance a peek over my shoulder as Julia unclenches her ass, panting heavily with satisfaction.

                Charlie’s body, ravaged and crumpled like a rat after a trip through a threshing machine, plops unceremoniously to the carpet in a pile of lifeless red meat.

                Julia’s swirling blue eyes meet mine, the fire still smoldering within them with unbridled lust and violence.

                I’m cold.

                I turn my head back around quickly as we dash under the stool, Brian already helping Kelly clamber over the wooden rim and into the opening, which is indeed big enough to squeeze through.

                It was just a glance.  In that glance, though, I saw everything I need to see.

                I saw shock, love, and fury, exploding into a new level as that fire in her eyes is doused in the gasoline of betrayal.

                I saw the passion of a goddess scorned.

                “Jack?” Julia shouts with trembling hands outstretched as she scrambles desperately toward us on her stomach, and I can’t tell whether it’s love or hatred winning out in her voice, but I don’t concentrate long enough to decide as I slam into the wall.  Brian’s hand clasps my arm from above and swings me up toward the darkness of the opening in the wall.

                “JACK!” comes the final resounding scream from behind as the three of us sprint into the pipe-lined blackness.

We keep sprinting through the inner wall well beyond the point where all three of us have totally expended every last ounce of energy in the weary little meat sacks we call our bodies.  My blood’s surging with at least ninety percent pure adrenaline, and I’m fairly certain if I stop moving now I’m going to crumple over.  Vaulting across the pipes and squeezing between board slats becomes more difficult the deeper we go, and practically every other step entangles us in thick cobwebs that string up to the invisible void above.

                More than a dozen times in the black haze I think I feel the familiar wall of Julia’s palm colliding with my back, collecting me for a final time as her firm fingers close around me.  In my memory, the muscle behind those massive digits seems to squeeze with every stride, trying to convince my limbs how futile this all is.

                Then when I nearly trip over a hunk of wood, for an instant my derailed mind is convinced I’ve stumbled over Julia’s foot, her big toe tapping impatiently for the chance to purge my innards with a soft squish.  Even as I recover and continue moving, it takes a moment to convince myself I’m not currently being liquefied under her heel.

                Still other times I think I feel wetness against my shins and ankles: her mythic tongue, as though in our confusion we’ve run directly into the mad goddess’s mouth, and she’s having a last tasting before the slimy plummet into a digestive graveyard of other swallowed souls.  She has to already be reserving a space for us there.

                Of course, nothing is fresher in my mind than the visage of Charlie’s bloodied corpse being bludgeoned to pulp where the sun doesn’t shine on Julia.  This, too, has to be a very real possibility.

                Turning around to see what was lay behind crossed our minds for inexplicable reasons, and before we turned the first corner, I could see the militant blink of a flashlight peering through the hole that we lunged into about ten minutes ago, but it’s too small for Julia to be able to fit her hand inside for a more clarifying review of the darkness.

                We’re safe.  For now.

                And given how rapidly our fortunes are prone to change in in this house, “now” might end before I’ve even taken another breathless leap in the dark.

                Nearly as much as my heaving lungs as we run, though, my heart aches for Gina, still back in Julia’s bathroom where she was chosen to care for Brian and Anna’s newborn daughter.

                The widowed father is leading our charge through the walls, followed by Kelly, and finally me.  I doubt he has any idea of where he’s headed, though it’s not like Kelly or I would be doing a much better job in his place.

                The walls are an absolute maze, and I know we can’t possibly see all the pathways out.  Even out of Julia’s clutches, however temporarily, we’re still made to be rats in a cage.  I imagine however panicked she has to be right now over losing us, our mad teenage goddess is getting some of her standard sick satisfaction out of knowing we’re just as lost as she is right now.  Reason tells me the network of tunnels can’t be nearly as complicated as my mind makes it, but the longer we move, giving the fear time to fester in my chest, it’s as though the structure itself is multiplying, mutating to Julia’s will, and entrapping us in the oblivion.

                We won’t be able to head for an exit from the house, of course.  It would be tantamount to us throwing the switch on Gina and probably the baby as well.  Julia’s already a bundle of violent neuroses when she has full control of a situation.

                It’s an understatement to say it terrifies me to the marrow imagining her when she’s pushed to the absolute edge.

                “Brian, stop,” Kelly pants as we clamber over a particularly thick bronze pipe.  “Stop for a minute.”

                “Okay,” he agrees wearily, and the patter of our feet ceases as we all take a relieved slump on the dusty ground of the inner wall.  I don’t so much sit down as just barely avoid a full-body collapse.  Now that we’ve halted after so much manic sprinting, the magnitude of the situation we’ve put ourselves in can finally start to catch up, and I can’t say I’m looking forward to the sensation.

                “Are you two both all right?” Kelly asks.  “Jack?”

                “I’m fine,” I say quickly, pressing a fist to my chest as I catch my breath.  My body vibrates, and for a moment, I assume I must’ve leaned against a rattling pipe, until I realize it’s coming from my arms.

                “Good,” she answers as she places a hand on my shoulder, which helps with the shaking slightly.  “Thank you.”

                “What?”

                “I said thank you.  For figuring this out.  You know we wouldn’t have been able to make it without you,” she repeats with emphasis.

                “Uh.  You’re… welcome,” I answer guiltily, never more bittersweet than now about one of my perceived victories over Julia.

                “It’s okay,” Kelly says, reading my mind, as she hangs onto my arm.  “She’s not going to do anything to them.  Not with us out here.  It’s all she has left over us now.”

                Kelly’s right, and I’m comforted by it, but I still can’t help but tremble at the thought of the girl I love trapped in the hand of the girl whose love for me might result in all of us roasting in Julia’s stomach acid before morning.  My only respite is in knowing that the initial success of our flight will have to have staved off our demented warden’s hammer of injustice for now.

                She won’t touch Gina, her most effective bargaining chip, until she’s sure she can still win.  Not without me squarely in her sights first.  She’ll want me back just so she can exact the most exquisite vengeance upon my wretched soul as any in all of human history.  More importantly, though, with us now as wild cards in the house, Julia’s facing a far greater threat: the possibility of someone actually getting out and bringing her twisted empire crashing down around her.

                I have a sinking feeling we won’t get too far before an ultimatum is posed.

                Julia’s a sucker for ultimatums.

                “I hate to break up the break, you two, but we’ve got to start thinking now,” Brian huffs, drained physically as well as emotionally.  “About how we’re going to play this now.”

                “I know,” Kelly says.  “Any ideas?”

                “Working on it,” I groan, leaning back against the narrow walls and shutting my eyes.  “The plan didn’t really go any further than getting to this point.”

                “Not like we had many options,” Brian says, crestfallen.  “And it worked well.  For us.  But now we have to decide how we’ll get back in and get them out.”

                “Going straight back in there is suicide,” Kelly states.

                “Not necessarily.  We could go back in a few hours,” Brian says.  “What is it, probably around nine right now? It’s been dark for an hour.  She’ll have to sleep eventually.”

                “I doubt it.  She probably won’t sleep for very long if she’s looking for us.  Or waiting for us to come back for the others,” Kelly corrects.  “Especially that.  She’s not going to let them stay in the dollhouse.  If she’s not holding them herself, she’s at least going to put them in a jar.”

                She’s right again, of course.  Even if Julia has to sleep, I can’t imagine those tightly-screwed jars are moving anywhere more than six inches from her hands until she’s got her runaways back in custody.  The darkness goes silent again for a moment, and despite the lack of visibility, I can sense Brian cringing painfully at the mention of his child being entrapped in that glass prison.

                “I’m sorry,” Kelly says quickly.  “You know Gina will take care of her.”

                “I know,” he gulps, pausing for another moment.  “So what are you saying, then, if we can’t go right back in there?”

                “Well.  You’re… you’re probably not going to like this, but… the maid should be back in the morning.  That was when she was here before, when Beth… I… I mean…” Kelly sputters.  There’s very little conversation we can touch on these days that doesn’t involve unspeakable tragedy.  “Of course, we’d have to wait for the rest of the night.”

                “No, I get it,” Brian answers solemnly.  “It makes sense.”

                “We’re still on the second floor.  We need to find a way down to the ground,” I say.

                “I know, but we can’t come out of the walls up here,” Kelly answers begrudgingly.  “She has to already have the cameras back up on her computer.”

                “Fucking hell…” Brian groans as this occurs to him simultaneously.

                “I’m surprised we didn’t find the way down accidentally in the dark,” Kelly comments.  “We’ve probably been going in circles in here.”

                “Probably.  It doesn’t really matter.  We just needed to get away from the opening,” Brian agrees.

                “Does anyone even remember how many turns we’ve made?” Kelly asks.

                “I think I can guess.  I remember a fork.  If we get up now and start moving in the direction behind me, we’ll take a left instead of a right.  That should at least get us away from her room.  The hallway stairs aren’t that far away from there,” Brian says.

                “I’m ready when you two are,” I say, pulling myself up on a pipe for support.  As I rise, my aching body screams for me to lie back down and possibly remain in that spot for the rest of time, but as usual, I’m forced to ignore common sense and general fantasies of basic comfort.

                “That front hallway is going to be a real bitch to get down,” Kelly says as we all get moving again, still following Brian.  “We’ll have to go slowly.  Take our time.”

                “Right.  The pipes are close enough together, though, that we should be able to test our footing on the way.  Besides, I’ve had to work around some set-up like this before.  I was a handyman before I was a teacher,” Brian says.  “Maybe I’ll be of use for once today.”

                “I’m sure you will,” Kelly reassures.

                “Definitely,” I say, trying to convince himself as much as myself.

                It’s not that I don’t have every confidence in Brian’s talent for memorizing pipe layouts in a house he’s never actually seen the inside of, but at our current statures, the mere thought of the descent is already curdling my stomach.

                We arrive at the drop sooner than expected thanks to Brian’s half-remembered tidbits.  Our pace slows considerably as we near, in preparation for locating the drop with a carefully placed hand rather than stepping directly into the cruel grasp of gravity.  Luckily, a slope in the ground tells us we’re approaching it until I find myself bracing against the other two, overlooking the edge before the abyss.

                It’s just as difficult to see anything, but somehow, knowing that inching myself forward any further would result in a plummet lasting several seconds, standing here rattles me regardless.

                “This is it.  We need to get moving.  Just follow my voice, and I’ll find the pipes,” Brian instructs as calmly as he can manage, though I can hear in his voice he’s nervous too.  I can’t say I blame him.

                Without another word, he makes the first move, scrambling over the ridge and rappelling into dusty emptiness.

                “C’mon, Jack.  Let’s go,” Kelly whispers as consolingly as she can, stepping across the edge as well.  “The first one is right here.”

                Despite what a torture this would be for the acrophobic Gina, I wish she was here now so we could give each other strength.

                I fish around in the darkness, finding the first foothold where Kelly said it would be and shift my weight onto it, giving myself to the void, and trying pretty desperately to put aside the fact that we’re all about to climb blindly down an entire story at the size of someone’s finger.

                True to his word, Brian is familiar enough with the organization of the pipes that descending them is a possibility, if only a terrifyingly slim one.  The longest portion of our night is spent placing one foot and hand at a time on the next slippery rung.  Some are ice cold and numb our skin with rushing water beneath their surfaces, while others are hot enough that we can’t risk standing on them for more than a few seconds without risking a burn on our already substantially abused bodies.  Mercifully, some are wound tightly together like the bars of a jungle gym, to allow us to take brief rests, but still others are broad and too smooth to have any kind of trustworthy handhold, so we have to rely exclusively on feeling for each other’s ankles in the dark.

                Brian leads the way, warning us of the temperature on each new pipe, or of tricky maneuvers for step placement.  I know Kelly once held a summer job at a rock climbing gym.  The task’s different now, to say the least, and exponentially more dangerous, but it’s something we can use.  In spite of the hellish nightmare of our lives in the last day, Kelly’s voice remains steady and calm all the way: probably the nursing student in her.

                “Just one limb at a time.  Find a home for it, and then switch to another one,” she says, paraphrasing softly at the occasional interval when Brian or I have slowed up.  The words are indirect, and little help for someone like me with limited coordination, but she manages to be a comfort all the same.  I still wish Gina was here to hang onto.

                The descent takes longer even than I would’ve thought, and each time I put my foot down another step of the pipes, only to nearly hit blank space and an untimely demise, I marvel at how much further I would’ve fallen if I had slipped up any higher than this.  Of course, the effect only expounds the lower we go.  My stomach is knotted so tightly I eventually put it out of mind, as though my head is inflated with helium, and I’m just deflating slowly into the blackness.

                Reaching the floor unscathed is particularly unexpected and I can’t help but cringe when I press my foot against the cold, unmoving earth that won’t threaten to betray me to gravity if I lean too far in one direction.  Security is something I’m unfamiliar with in general at this precarious stage of life.  I think all three of us are surprised to not have become a meager splatter on the floor already as we check up on one another for injury, as if the borrowed time we’re living on just got a second extension.  For us, that time has already become a meaningless construct, and perhaps just as troubling, my weary muscles have become string cheese.

                Once we’ve hit the sacred, dusty ground, we’re drenched in grease from the pipes and our own anxious sweat, and however afraid we are to try it, we’re all wiped out enough that sleep is an option.  After thoroughly searching this stretch of the inner wall, punching into pink insulation and powdery exterior layers to test their resolve, we reach the conclusion that Julia wouldn’t be able to reach us in our exposed states unless she bulldozed directly through the barrier with heavy construction hardware.

                Which, knowing our rapacious sixteen-year-old foe as well as we and especially I do, isn’t quite outside the realm of possibility.

                Unfortunately, we’re tired enough to accept those odds.

                We sleep in shifts as though we’re huddled in the muddy trenches of a major battlefield from those school textbooks I haven’t had the privilege of reading on a normal scale in more than two years.  Temporary safety is seemingly ours, but rationality isn’t enough now to confirm it.  This is just the paranoia we’ve inherited from our former owner at work again.  Frankly, no amount of bulletproof steel or walls of towering flame would be enough to convince us that we can afford to make ourselves vulnerable so long as Julia is on the warpath.

                So Brian takes the first watch in front of the wall, still too enraged and mournful and a bunch of other stinging sensations to be able to fall asleep unless on the verge of collapse.  Which, luckily for the continued functioning of our central nervous systems, all three of us are.

                After his roughest estimation of two hours, Brian starts to pull me awake, but Kelly, apparently only lightly sleeping herself, stops him and volunteers to take the next watch instead.  Gratefully, I fall back into fitful sleep almost immediately, sucking up as much of this power nap as I can.  It may be the last chance we have to sleep before whatever undoubtedly insane rescue plan we’re about to enact.

                And depending on how successful we are, it may be the last chance we have for a nap any shorter than eternity.

                I can tell Kelly doesn’t want to have to wake me up after her two hours that I strongly suspect added up more to three.  Still, fair’s fair, and I have a responsibility to do my part and ignore how loudly my sore body is screaming for more life-giving rest.  It’s lonesome work just sitting in one spot and glaring into the void, but there’s a certain calm to it, even with all the worry I feel for Gina and the baby.  I can’t allow myself to get too caught up in terror for them or my judgment and decision-making will be severely impaired, and that’s really all it’ll take for Julia to win.  She’s already holding all the cards.  A single flinch from one of us and the game is over.

                Midway through my shift, I feel a firm hand on my shoulder jolting me from my iron-sight stupor, and we’re off again down the dark path without another word.  There are far fewer pipes this low to the ground now, so our journey is much quicker.  Even with as little sleep as all of us got, it’s done wonders to help us recover from the climb, and I can feel the shared energy as we march into the dank and horrifyingly unknown future.  It’s do or die now, literally.

                “We need to get into one of those grates,” Kelly comments after a lengthy silence, vaulting over a low-hanging plank.

                “What do you mean?” Brain says.

                “You know.  The ones we saw when she showed us the video feed.  The panels near the floor,” she says.

                “Weren’t those air vents?” I ask.

                “No.  The house is old.  Practically a museum.  Those are maintenance access.  Not like you could fit a person through them, but-”

                “I think we might be the exception,” Brian says with a nod.  “We can’t be far from one.  I think we’re in the front now, near the living room.  Where she…”

                “You’re right,” Kelly says before Brian can think too deeply about being so close to where his sister died between Julia’s treacherous lips.  “Anyone remember seeing one there?”

                “I think I do,” I say.  “Maybe ten feet away from the fireplace.”

                “Great.  Let’s get moving,” Kelly says.  She takes each of us by the hand and continues leading forward through the barren murkiness.

                Another twenty minutes of trekking brings us into what we can only assume to be the living room.  The air in the wall is warmer now, which comes as welcome news to three naked people who’d look pretty pathetic standing next to a classroom ruler.

                Freedom, sleep, and now heat.  All we need now is the means to send Julia on a one-way trip to hell and I think we’ll be more or less satisfied.  I also wouldn’t mind some clothes, real food, and an eternal embrace from Gina, but there’s no sense in getting selfish when we’re still firmly on the losing side.

                Brian spots the streaks of light first spooled out in triplets on the wall as we turn a corner, indicating a possible way out, no more than a foot ahead of us.  “C’mon.  Let’s-”

                “Shhh,” Kelly hisses suddenly, clasping her hand over Brian’s mouth.  Stunned, he freezes, failing to understand.  Then he hears it, and so do I.  Our synced heartbeats are thrust into sickening overdrive.

                Footsteps.  Bare feet padding across hardwood.  Delicate and purposeful, but sending seismic rumblings through the walls all the same.

                “I wonder where my pretty little pets all got off to?” a feminine voice croons merrily, ringing in our ears like some demonic backwards song.

                There’s a clattering in the panel: fingernails tapping against the edge, followed by metal twisting on metal.  With the scratching of rusty screws and a leaden groan, the grate is ripped away and spills light into our tunneled hovel.  I feel Brian’s arm around my neck, yanking me forcibly backward, along with Kelly, who’s snatched my arm and done the same, stumbling silently into the relative safety of the dark again.

                “I hope they’re not scared of little old me and what I’m going to do to them once I get my hands on them…” Julia whispers a little too kindly.

                Shadows dance angrily over our small source of inherited morning light as a hand, slender, white, and full of terrible promise unfurls into our path, fingers dancing back and forth in the air as though beckoning us into the greedy palm.

                “…even though they probably should be.”

Kelly’s hand is squeezed over my mouth to trap in the gasp, and as the three of us huddle together, I can feel the uncontrollable trembling rattling each of our skeletons in unison.

                Her giant fingers touch down on the ground, sliding scientifically through the clumped dust and lubricating it between the fleshy tips.  She rubs the end of her slender thumb along the ridges of each of the other four fingers in a steady sequence, then traces a crooked line like a river through the gray expanse.  I can make out a thin wisp of her chocolate brown locks sweeping just under the metal cusp as she peers into the blackness.

                Thank fucking Christ we hadn’t walked that far ahead before Kelly heard the grate coming down, or otherwise our incriminating footprints would’ve been stamped right through it, and we might already be lost.

                “Anybody?” Julia sings like a siren.  “I promise to be nice with you.”

                The seconds heave by in rhythm with my chest.  I’ve never been so aware of my body’s movements.

                “Wherever you are, I know it must be so dark and scary by yourselves,” the girl continues coolly.  Her hand drifts slowly back across the floor, stroking it.  “Now you’re all alone.  You probably forgot what it’s like.  You’re like little babies trying to take care of yourselves.  But if you came back to me, you wouldn’t have to worry about the world anymore.”

                I can feel a cold bead of sweat on my shoulder, and it’s hard to say who it belongs to as we cling together.  Given that we’re as bare as the day we were born and without any kind of plausible plan to go up against this girl, I can’t say she’s totally wrong in comparing us to infants.

                “That’s too bad,” our tormentor mumbles quietly to herself just when I’m starting to feel I won’t be able to hold still for much longer.  “I miss my little friends so much.”

                I’ll just bet she does.

                Satisfied at last, the maniacal teen's hand retreats into the light, and the grate slams back into place, the screws grinding back in a moment later.  We hear her frustrated footsteps thundering away, pounding as she heads down some other hallway in this damned maze of a mansion.  It’s only when we hear dead silence, when we’re so absolutely positive that no living soul exists within the same fifty-foot-radius, that the three of us collectively inhale again, still quiet as the mice we’re emulating.  At last, Kelly’s palm gently removes itself from my lips, and Brian’s clammy hand leaves my shoulder.

                “Good ear,” Brian says gratefully.  “Thanks.”

                “Don’t mention it,” Kelly sighs with a weary huff.  “I guess the new rule is no talking while we’re moving.”

                “Sounds good to me,” I say.  I sneak forward on all fours, despite the continued quietude, and place my feet in the cleansed circles where Julia’s fingers were searching moments before.  I can still feel her warmth on the ancient metal.

                Once in front of the grate, I stand up, peering through the opening and into the monumental living room with its ornamental couches and expensive glass coffee tables.  A small chandelier hangs above in the domed ceiling.  The openings look wide enough for us to squeeze through.

                “Hold for a second,” Kelly utters, realizing what I’m considering.  “Is… that still the plan?”

                “That’s what I figured,” Brian says firmly.

                “Me too,” I say.

                “And after that?”

                Brian and I give each other a blank look.  It’s not like any of us have been brave enough yet to think that far ahead.  The general consensus, we assumed, would involve getting help from some normal-sized folks and then returning with a spiked baseball bat intended for Julia’s skull, though this was just general theorizing.

                “Move for the garage?” I offer .  We’re close to the front door, if Beth’s arrival was any indication, and my vague memory of that security feed serves.  The other way out can’t be that far away.

                “It’s a start,” Brian agrees, then turns back to Kelly.  “What’s the problem?”

                “Well, I mean, she’s walking around now.  Might still be nearby.  Are we sure that-”

                “It’s better than waiting for her to go back upstairs,” he interrupts.  “Because then-”

                “She’ll be back in front of the feed on her computer,” I finish, sliding a leg through the grate to test it.  It’s a fairly tight squeeze, but the opening is broad enough on the opposite side that getting through will be easier after the first push.

                “Right,” Kelly gulps as she and Brian creep up next to me.  “All right.  I guess we get moving, then.”

                “The red couch.  See it?  The corner from here?” Brian says as he points to the dangling tassels of the intended fabric tower just off to our right.  “Get through and go for it right away, directly under.”

                “Fine,” Kelly says, and taking a deep breath, hoists herself over the small lift and onto the metallic rim of the grate.  With a small push, she slides through fairly easily and lands on the hard floor.  Brian, with the broadest shoulders of the three of us, takes a little more maneuvering, but with a few hard elbows from me he makes it through.  I follow last, nearly stumbling on my landing, but manage to catch myself and sprint after the other two.

                The distance to the couch isn’t particularly long, but I feel that same exposed sensation from last night as we ran for the hole in the wall right under Julia’s nose, as though my skin has been peeled away and a powerful gale is sweeping through.  I’m cold, yet still feel the anxious sweat on my brow as I dive into the refreshingly dark sanctity underneath the couch.

                “Good,” Brian says, whispering so quietly his voice barely registers in our insignificant ears.  “Here on out, only this loud.”

                Kelly and I nod as we set off for the other end of the couch and crawl beneath the decorative tassels again.  Brian pokes his head out just far enough to confirm that the coast is still clear and then gestures like a military commander toward a nearly identical couch with a cream hue instead.  And then we dash again, grateful to have a floor-length rug to run across that dampens our already humble footfalls, and slide under the next cover.

                Progress is slow, as we only make our moves after taking at least a minute to test out the silence.  The living room is huge, even to emaciated prisoners with only a few inches in height to their names.  It takes a full five moves between scattered furniture just to get anywhere near the doorway.

                Every instant spent out in the open allows the phantom sensation of Julia’s body squeezing down on me to return, and no matter how wide I open my eyes in this liberating landscape, it’s nigh-impossible to convince myself that I don’t have my ex-girlfriend’s monstrous toes clamping down on my body in the heat and unholy musk of her shoes, the weight making escape a laughable fantasy.  I can all but feel the soft skin of those digits pressed against the back of my neck, threatening to snap it between them if I so much as breathe another breath without her authorization.  The very memory of her standing on me is enough to add weight to my shoulders as I stumble along, especially because I know it’ll be child’s play compared to what faces me and the rest of us if the real Julia should appear now in the room.

                Our next view is a long hallway, nearly bare save for the ceiling-length windows that frame a couple of tables holding blue oriental pottery and partially wilted roses.  Fortunately, the curtains are swept closed over the openings, and wordlessly we agree that this is the best option in what is probably the most dangerous part of the trek, especially since the only other exit from this room involves two intimidatingly tall steps to climb.

                We move with the same efficient caution, keeping low and heaving our whole bodies into the rush.  Throwing myself under the heavy folds of the curtain behind them somehow brings me the same sense of security, though in reality I know it’s just my body doing what it can to keep my mind from collapsing in fear.  The couches, of course, offered some protection if Julia were to discover us.

                Right here, we’re literally fucked if she happens to walk in.

                By some miracle we make it through all four curtained checkpoints without our hearts giving out from knee-buckling nerves.  There’s little time to discuss further moves, as our top priority has to be getting out from under our vulnerable embankment, and we instantly set about searching.

                The kitchen appears at the end of the line, and unsurprisingly, it’s scaled to house a full catering staff, with three different stoves and a newly finished sheen on all the marbled countertops.  Behind a low-hanging bar opening on the far end, a small breakfast nook with a circular table is arranged tastefully, and next to it is a long mat lined with shoes.  Above it is a white door, with the telltale rubber lip flap around its jamb: almost certainly a way outside.

                Our chosen destination is a titanium trash can in the corner, less than ten seconds’ sprint from where we sit under the curtain.  It is, perhaps, even more dire a position to take shelter than the curtain, but a quick point from Kelly into a high corner of the room reveals a security camera that Julia might very well be peering through at this very instant.  The receptacle would, at least, offer some cover from it.

                So off we go again.  Our feet hit the tile floor and pick up speed with every pace, encouraged by the comforting looming of the towering cylinder.  We throw ourselves behind it and wait for sixty agonized seconds, huddled together, until the end if necessary.  If Julia had seen us on the cameras make this, the longest move yet, she’d probably already be down here with her fingers around us and splintering our bones.

                But she doesn’t come, and it’s all right to receive regular oxygen again.

                That’s when we hear it.

                A soft groaning, starting slowly, but gradually increasing in velocity: the sound of chain links ticking over and over one another.  The grinding of rubber on sprayed driveway pebbles comes next, then the creak of the tire hitting concrete, right through that beautiful thoroughfare next to the shoes.

                The garage.  The garage door opening, and more importantly, a car entering the house.

                I feel both Kelly and Brian exhale as they stand behind me, and can almost hear the smiles plastered goofily on their exhausted faces.  However, in spite of the palpable relief we feel, we know not to thrust ourselves out into the open as though the game is won.  We’ve inherited far too much of Julia’s paranoia over the years, especially in these past few months, to ever be convinced that we’re not doomed just yet.

                We paralyze ourselves for a few more seconds, gripping each other’s shoulders to ensure no one blows the cover.  It occurs to me that, unless our demon spawn brunette captor is playing some elaborate ruse to make us come spring out right into her clutches, this could very well be the maid entering the house.  A woman catastrophically unaware of the horrors that have taken place in this house and potentially liable to go into shock if our revelation is handled incorrectly, but a person nonetheless.

                The last few inches of the garage door snap loudly into place through the wall.  My skin tingles and my hands tremble.  A nearly ironic prayer sits on my lips, and I can tell the same is true for my friends.

                It’s at this moment that a loud crackle echoes through the towering plaster canyons of the Mack house.  We flinch, staggering back and searching the doorways expecting to see Julia, but there’s nothing.

                Looking up a little further as the crackle repeats, my gaze snags on a gold-plated speaker embedded at roughly eye level for someone of average height, around ten feet down the wall and above the closest countertop.

                “Good moooorning,” Julia intones cheerily, her voice booming from the speakers and echoing with an eerie feedback as though she’d been absorbed into the ether and was haunting us from beyond the grave.

                We all freeze again, assuming we’ve been caught and zeroed in on already moments before salvation is ours, but Kelly waves her hand to calm our immediate emotional storms and points in the direction of the hallway we just ran down.  An identical speaker on the wall crackles with the same ghostly presence of our foe, and we realize Julia is projecting her voice to every room of the house that contains one of these devices.

                “You guys are all really smart, the way you almost got away from me.  I’m so proud of how well you learned,” Julia says next.  “It’s too bad you forgot to learn what I do to pets who don’t love me like they should.”

                “What’s she doing?” Brian mouths.

                Kelly frowns, holding up a finger instructing him to wait.

                “But I know you wouldn’t want something bad to happen to Gina, or baby Julia,” comes the godlike commandment from the intercom.  “Especially while I’ve got them right in my hands, and I'm not letting them go until I have you all again.”

                Without even looking at him, I can tell Brian is foaming at the mouth, his muscles threatening to spasm from acidic rage.

                “So here’s what’s going to happen…” Julia continues easily.  From the way her tone lilts upward, I know she’s got a smile spread over her lips right now.  “…you’re not going to let Ms. Coleridge see you when she comes in now.  You’re going to stay hidden all day until she leaves.”

                There’s something different happening inside Julia.  Her tenor, her words, they’ve transformed from less than a day ago when we heard her speak into something freer.   It’s as though she’s showing us more of herself - the real her.  More honest.  Rawer.

                Unhinged.

                I remind myself to breathe, but it’s difficult.  I already know where she’s going with this, and so do my companions.

                “Tomorrow morning I’ll be waiting in my room.  Come in, and give yourselves back to me, where you belong.  And then maybe, just maybe…” Julia explains happily.  “…I won’t have to have Gina and baby Julia for breakfast.”

                “Brian, we can’t,” Kelly sobs weakly, gripping his shoulder for dear life.

                “I’m not asking you to,” Brian says as we huddle within the cramped darkness of the wall again.

                There hadn’t even been any whispered discussion.  Julia’s warning over the intercom caused enough fear to metastasize in our hearts that we were forced to listen to the maid walk right by our hiding place behind the trash can, her shoes clunking on the kitchen tile as she headed down a hallway.  No matter how desperately we wished to make ourselves known to the pepper-haired woman and save ourselves at last, it would be the equivalent of throwing the switch on a chair-strapped Gina and the newborn child of Brian and Anna, whom Julia apparently took as an opportunity to make into a junior version of herself.

                So, just like Julia ordered, as soon as Ms. Coleridge was gone, we hustled back across the floor and dove clumsily through the thick maintenance grate in the kitchen.  It was an easier squeeze going in than coming out, so even if Julia saw us make the move, there was no catching us, though at this point it somehow would’ve felt just as much of a loss as staying hidden.  We jogged through the narrow blackness for several minutes, passing spots we could’ve easily paused for to breathe and regroup, but none of us knew what to do yet, and stopping would force us to confront how truly lost we are now.

                Brian, it seems, knows what he’s got to do now, no matter how wrong it is.

                “Do you not understand?” Kelly cries.  In spite of how dehydrated we all are, she manages to find some tears to shed.

                “Yes, I do,” he says.  I can tell he means it.

                “She will kill you.  Without hesitating.”

                “I know.”

                “You won’t get to see your daughter again.  She’ll just grab you up, and it’ll be over.  Just like that.”

                “I know.”

                “What good will come of it?” she whimpers.  “Do you think it’ll be any better for anyone to have you gone, too?”

                “All I know is that she might let our child live if I go back there and give myself over,” Brian croaks, with a glistening in his eyes for Anna that’s visible even in the near-pitch space.  “I’m not going to make your decisions for you.  And I don’t have the strength left to try to force you to come with me anyway.  But I have to do this now.”

                “No you don’t,” Kelly pleads, shaking him roughly.  I consider joining her, but I’ve grown to know how dangerously stubborn Brian can be when he’s made up his mind, as he has in this moment.

                “Do you have another plan?” he asks blankly, not really needing to hear the answer.

                “No.  Not yet,” she admits with palpable remorse.  “I know you’re afraid for her.  For them.  We all are.  But this isn’t the way!”

                “It’s going to have to be,” Brian says.  His voice quavers like he might vomit.  I empathize deeply.  “Unless you have something else that won’t end with my daughter in the stomach of that… that…”

                He can’t even finish, and neither of us blame him, because he’s right.  We don’t have something else.

                We really, truly are, out of moves to make now.  No matter how far we run from Julia’s hands, even when she can’t see, taste, or feel us, our every action is still hers to command, and our bodies hers to direct toward our own graves.

                It’s over.

                Done.

                She’s got us, and even Kelly, in all her messily expressed grief, is beginning to grapple with that fact.  There will be blood on someone’s hands within the next twenty-four hours, and frankly, I can’t imagine wanting to go on if it happens to be Gina’s or the baby’s on mine.

                “Hey, fuckheads.”

                The voice is fired at us in the hush, so quiet it might’ve been mistaken for the hiss of a stray pipe, if not for the particularly distinctive formation of the word it used to address us.

                “Over here.”

                Our hearts jolt as though Julia herself had discovered us, even though the gravelly voice is not only male but coming from the inner wall, behind a cluster of crisscrossing wires.  We turn skittishly toward the darkest corner, backing a few inches away, although without raising our hands in defense.  It’s not like there’s much left to fight for.

                “You want to keep your goddamned voices down?” the source of the voice grumbles as he crawls out of the jungle of metal, his sinewy arms wrapping around a tuft of insulation for support.

                I’m surprised to see the spectral stranger is the same height as us; the voice had given me cause to expect some kind of haggard creature at least the size of a dachshund.  Rags are draped and bound economically with twist-ties around his shrunken chest and legs.  If it weren’t for the deeply etched wrinkles around his eyes, I’d guess he’s not even forty years old.  Wild, bushy facial hair takes up most of the underside of his head, and even in the dark, his eyes are more of a void than the shadows that surround us.  This, I know beyond a doubt, is an empty man.

                “Oh my God,” Kelly mutters, robbed of breath in shock.  “How…”

                “Can’t be,” Brian mutters, flabbergasted.

                “Shut it.  Are you coming, or not?” the man growls, waving a hand toward the tunnel he emerged from behind the wires, before turning and disappearing back into it.

                “Fine,” Brian says with abandon, following in, though his shoulders remain stiff: he’s just as nervous as I am.  “Guys?”

                “R-Right…” Kelly stutters as she cautiously gives chase, then turns to face me.  “Jack?”

                “Yeah, I’m… I’m coming.”

                “C’mon.  Let’s go,” she says, extending a hand for me to take, which I do, gratefully.  We might as well make a choice now, since we seem to be criminally short on such things these days.

                The tunnel is considerably cleaner and more smoothly carved than the actual inner walls we’ve been using to traverse the house, which astounds me, until I begin to realize it’s probably all the stranger’s doing.  From the look of him, he’s been in here a long time, his eyes unused to even trace quantities of daylight.

                We pass other points I recognize as openings into the inner wall, all of which we missed when we made our way to the living room.  After around ten minutes of striding single-file through the straight-lined blackness, we suddenly come into a wider space with a chilly breeze spinning through.

                What I soon recognize as a small portable book light rests on its side and clicks on with a kick from the stranger, flooding the area with just enough dim artificial glow to let us drink in the scale of this hovel, stacked high with wood chips, food wrappers, nails, and other junk I can’t quite make out.

                Kelly and I clutch our arms to our chests for warmth, our teeth chattering.

                “Here,” the scraggly man grunts, throwing something at us.  I flinch as a rag similar to his own flaps onto my sorely naked shoulders, quickly pulling it around my sides like a blanket.  As soon as I do, a coiled twist-tie hits me in the shin, gifted from the same place.  Kelly pulls one around herself too, while Brian, who was just ahead of us, is already cinching his makeshift toga.

                I relish the feeling of fabric around my skin again: protective, even though such a thing would do precisely nothing under the meaty weight of Julia’s heel if it should come crashing down on me.  Pinching the dulled material in my fingertips, slightly coarse though it, is, I recognize it as the shorn corner off a dish towel, its fibers long flattened into a smooth sheet.

                The man doesn’t even give us warning as he chucks something else at each of us.  I throw my hands up and catch against my chest the football-sized hunk of sliced bread, a little crusty with staleness, but not rotten, and that’s good enough for me.  My stomach rumbles audibly just from feeling its grainy texture in my palms, and I hear similar reactions from Kelly and Brian as they eye their bread too.  However, as much as I want to shove it between my lips and swallow without chewing, something stops me.

                This guy has obviously made something of an existence for himself down here.  I don’t know how he got into the wretched catacombs of the Mack household or why, but he’s clearly something of a ravaging survivalist.  Who’s to say he didn’t lace all these pieces with rat poison to off us?  Not that we have anything worth taking, but he may be hungrier than he’s letting on for something more than just bread.  I look over at Kelly and Brian for reassurance, and they seem to have the same thought.

                Sighing, our bizarre host takes a step forward and pulls a few crumbs from each of our chunks and shoves them in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

                “It’s food, idiots.  Eat it before I change my mind and take it back,” he grouches, a little friendlier in his own animalistic way.  We’re still not totally convinced, but with strength waning, and the probable hour of our demise approaching rapidly, the humanity in his tone is enough for me.  Greedily, the three of us begin wolfing the offerings down.

                Twenty minutes pass without another word.  Most of the bread in each of our hands gets eaten, and what doesn’t is folded reverently into our laps for later.  Eventually, the three of us get sufficiently comfortable with the possibility that the ragged individual won’t slit our throats and take a seat on a chunk of wood tall enough to act as a bench, while the man still paces around in front of us, with enough distance that we can at least settle down and focus on speaking.

                “Okay, I’m just… going to say it,” Brian chokes up at last, his strength partially renewed.  “What’s going on here?  Who are you?”

                “What’s going on is that I’m just trying to live my life,” he answers, scratching his chin through the beard.  “Just like you.  And it’s awfully fucking hard to do when you’re all yapping like you were right on the other side of the wall, where she can find you.”

                “So you… were caught by her, too,” Kelly says.  Her tone is firm, but there’s a frown curved into her brow, distrustful and curious.  Like she’s already a step ahead of the rest of us.

                “Yeah,” he spits, cuddling his rags tighter around his body.

                “And you got away,” I suggest.

                “What do you think?” he groans sarcastically.

                “So who are you?  How did you even… I mean, you must’ve been down here a long time…” Brian says, trying to piece it together.

                “Before any of you, yeah,” the man confirms.  “Two and a… no, no, three years.”

                Such a seemingly small number, yet next to the already comparative eternity I’ve spent trapped inside this house, it’s like trying to imagine infinity in concrete digits.

                “So why didn’t you get out?” Brian gawks, his tone embittered.  Slowly, he rises from our makeshift bench with his whitened fists clenched.  “Why didn’t you tell someone?”

                “Maybe the same reason you haven’t, smartass,” the man coughs.  “I’m trapped.”

                “How?” I demand suddenly, earning his attention, but I can see in the stranger’s weary and contorted scowl that he has no intention of answering.

                “Wait a second,” Kelly mumbles weakly.  She raises an accusing finger.  “Your face.  It… was in my one of my textbooks.  You’re…”
                Like a cornered animal, the man cringes and takes a few steps back, his beady eyes darting over to her, and for a second I think he might lunge at Kelly to prevent further commentary.

                “You’re Arthur Goodwin, aren’t you?” she says with a heavy swallow.

                He doesn’t nod, but the grudging glint in his dilated pupils is enough to confirm it.

                “Who?” Brian demands, rising back to his feet.  I’m wondering the same thing.  “You said he was in your book?  Why is-”

                “He’s from the Techilogic Corporation,” Kelly utters.  “He… he-”

                “What?”

                “He invented the PMRD.”

                I’m surprised at the vitality Brian is able to muster as he lunges like a rabid wolf onto Arthur Goodwin, but I can certainly relate with his violent sentiment.  The pair tussle over one another, rolling through the dust and spitting, but riding on a pure adrenaline kick, Brian easily puts down the rebellion and latches his hands around the throat of the creator of the shrinking device that’s stolen away years as well as a number of entire lives.

                I’m even more surprised when I find myself rising up and bearing down on them, not to help pry Brian off Arthur, but to aid in restraining the latter on the ground.  The haggard genius inventor, obviously very far fallen from the stature he once enjoyed, is lean and wiry, probably with a strength advantage over Brian, but the madness is strong in my friend who’s lost his sister, his lover, and quite possibly his daughter to the same teenage goddess.  After a final squeeze on the man’s whitened neck, Brian releases his grip.

                Gasping for breath, the disoriented Arthur squirms against us, slamming his shins into our hips, but Brian and I are working too quickly, and in seconds we have the guy rolled over and immobilized, with his hands twisted across one another in our grip.

                “Don’t… hurt him,” Kelly suggests softly as she walks toward us, though she says it more as someone with something to lose if Arthur’s lungs should collapse, and on this we agree.

                Oddly, as I sit on the man’s back, pinning his wrists at an angle too awkward for him to escape, I realize my fury isn’t conjured from his invention of the cursed instrument.  Regardless of whether or not the creation of the PMRD was a damnation on our eternally self-defeating species, it’s older than me, and out of my hands.  Julia is still the enemy.

                It’s really just that I’d like an awful damn lot to know why he’s here, in this house, at this size, and I have a feeling Brian and Kelly share my wish.

                “So this is what I get for shutting your mouths and making sure you don’t starve.  Glad to know humanity’s about the same as it was last time I saw some,” he says knowingly, heaving the dusty air to regain himself.  “By the way, little lady, I just go by Goodwin, since we’re starting off so friendly-like.  Who the fuck are you?”

                “Just start talking,” Brian instructs.

                “Get the hell off me,” Goodwin hacks, frothing at the mouth.  “You don’t get it.  You just don’t fucking get it.”

                “Then maybe you can help us fucking get it,” Brian snarls, smacking our captive on the back of the head.

                “I don’t say a word until you get off of me,” he responds, shaking his head.

                “Gonna have to beg to differ,” Brian says.

                “Hey, I’m not the one with a twenty-four hour clock on my goddamned head now,” Goodwin croaks, and at this threat, he receives another conk on the back of the skull that smacks his mouth back into the ground.  I flinch, but can’t say I disagree completely with Brian’s rudimentary tactics at this juncture, with the seconds ticking by before we’re all made into lunch meat.

                “You can have a lot shorter one than twenty-four hours if you want,” Brian says with eerie calmness, and looking up, I realize Kelly is handing something over to him she’s scooped up from the nearby junk pile.  The light is behind them, so I can’t quite make it out, but it glistens with a silver sheen, and has a point sharp enough to make just about anyone pay attention.

                “Fuck you,” Goodwin curses, pressing his forehead to the ground as Brian clasps the razor tip against the man’s neck.

                “Just talk to us, and then you can move,” Kelly says with tentative geniality.

                “Real convincing,” he chokes out.

                “What the hell are you doing here?” Brian demands.

                “What the fuck do you think?  Same reason you morons are here.  I was just minding my own business, then God took a dump on me and little Miss Satan puts me in her fucking dollhouse.”

                “Not good enough,” Kelly barks, then leans in closer to his face, softening again.  She extends an accusing index finger, but her hand is shaking too much to keep it up.  “I remember now.  From my book.  You… you sold out the company almost twenty years ago.  Tried to sell your designs to terrorists.”

                To our shock, Arthur starts laughing: not just a sarcastic little chuckle, but a full-blown barrage of huffing snorts.  He sounds like a hyena crawling up toward the white light.

                “What?” Brian demands after this carries on for several hysterical howls.

                “You really believe everything you read, don’t you?” our captive sputters, and then goes right back to cackling, as though this is all we’d need to hear.

                As tough as it is to buy such a flimsy defense, Goodwin is backed up by the incredibly unlikely happenstance of his presence in this house, so we’re at least willing to stave off more drastic action a little longer.

                “So why are you here, then?” I ask, breaking up the flustered pause.  “How did you find Julia?”

                Against all odds, Goodwin exhales heavily, relaxing despite still having a shiv leveled against his jugular.  He rests his head on the ground, probably as a pre-emptive defense against another smack from Brian.

                “Come on,” Kelly says.

                “I… didn’t find her, she found me,” he manages bitterly.  We seem to have broken through some kind of wall with him at last.  I can tell the next sentence is difficult for Goodwin to get out, and not just because Brian’s threatening to slit his neck open.  “I was selling unlicensed PMRDs.  Jail-breaking them.  Black market shit.”

                “So you were trying to-”

                “No, I didn’t sell the designs to terrorists or the mob or whatever those cocksuckers made up about me,” he cuts in.  “I’m not a fucking traitor.”

                “What are you, then?”
                “Unlucky,” he spits.  “And stupid.  Techilogic set me up.  I never had any plans to try selling the goddamned things to anyone else before they walked me into a phony sale and then pinned the whole thing on my head.  I shouldn’t even still be alive.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “What do you think I mean?  They tried to KILL me!”

                “Why?” Brian presses a little louder.

                “I knew things about the corporation, okay?  Everybody in it, too.  I was in there at the deepest level.  I was washing all their dirty laundry.  Closer than anybody, but they still needed me because nobody else could do what I did.”

                “Like…” Kelly drawls.

                “I put together ninety percent of the size modification puzzle for them.  The entire goddamned science is mine.  None of them at the top had a whole brain between them, but they gave me a lab and a nice coat, so I worked out everything on the Mark 1 design they just couldn’t crack.  The processor that identifies organic matter.  The internal refraction design.  Revamped the whole operating system,” Goodwin explains.

                “That still doesn’t explain why they wanted you dead,” Brian murmurs angrily.  The lethal metal remains clenched in his quivering fist.  “What did you do?”

                “It’s not what I did, it’s what I saw,” Goodwin relents.  “You see enough of the shit I’ve seen, it just gets more convenient to cut you off before you can tell anyone.  Like gangrene.  They had everything they needed from me.  Enough people understood how the system worked by then.  I was expendable.”

                “Then what the hell did you see?” Kelly asks, gentler now.

                Goodwin tilts his chin up high enough to look Kelly in the eye.  “I don’t suppose Ms. Bookworm or any of you here has read enough to know about what some creative son of a bitch called the Carly Incident?”

                All three of us jolt, the air poisoning our lungs and our bloodstreams curdling.

                To people who’ve spent the last two years the way we have, he might as well have asked if any of us have heard of the atomic bomb.

                “Of course,” Kelly says, her voice wavering with apprehension.  We happen to be special cases, but anyone with a functioning nervous system has at least a cursory knowledge of this thing that would’ve passed into urban myth if it didn’t also happen to be alarmingly true.  Any given record of criminal activity covering the last twenty years would be obligated to include it, but more important even is where it sits in scientific history.  “That family.  The… the Artons.  The first known size-changing event.  And the guy, J… Jack, right?”

                “Yeah,” I answer for her.  “It’s Jack.”

                The coincidence of our names has occasionally found its way into my consciousness over the past two years, not to mention the similarity of our situations, or at least what I know of his.  There’s always been distance in my mind to the Carly Incident, like comparing myself to a Shakespearean tragedy.  Two opposing planes of existence.

                Yet here my friends and I sit, freed, and just as much a prisoner as he was.

                “Jack and… Carly, his sister, she… found him… shrunken, and…” Kelly mumbles uncomfortably.  “Five years…”

                “Okay, fan-fucking-tastic, you know the stuff the internet likes to make a big stink about,” Goodwin grouses.  “I don’t suppose you can tell me what happened after they finally saved the little shit from her, though?”

                Another chilly silence falls.  None of us have a real answer, and it’s never occurred to me before to wonder if that’s an odd thing until now.

                “I… thought she went to prison,” Kelly offers, unsure of herself.

                “I did too,” Brian says.

                “Well, wouldn’t that have been just the prettiest picture for everyone?” Goodwin says.  “Carly goes in a cell, her brother goes off and has himself a goddamned lovely life, and Techilogic builds a fucking empire on top of everyone’s shoulders.”

                “But…” Kelly mutters.  “They… they caught her.  She-”

                “You really think that people as crazy as her will just let themselves be put in a box forever?  Happily ever after?” he simpers condescending.  “Good to know some people still believe in fairy tales.”

                We all pause again, not totally convinced by Goodwin’s cryptic nonsense, but sufficiently thrown off of our pre-conceived notions to pause for agonized contemplation.  I begin to relax my weight on Goodwin, and Brian’s hand gripping the shiv finally falls away from the throat of our host, who notices, but pays it no mind.

                My mind is racing at a full sprint, trying and failing to process all this while still grappling with the mounting nausea swelling in my stomach like a weather balloon: gut-rending terror for Gina and the baby, as well as the little fact that in all likelihood, this is going to be my last day alive.

                “Okay, look, none of that matters now.  Why were you selling the PMRDs, then?  How does that make you any different from the people they say you were giving them to?” Kelly orders from Goodwin, diverting our attention squarely back onto him.

                “Because I figured that was the only way to bring Techilogic down,” Goodwin sighs.  “I didn’t just get them to anyone.  I was thorough.  Did background checks.  I thought if they could just trickle out there, it would make enough of a mess to burn Techilogic to the ground.”

                “So Julia was…”

                “An opportunity.  At least I thought at first,” he groans.  “Those parents of hers, they’re-”

                “Lawyers,” Kelly says, realization dawning.

                “Not just lawyers.  I wouldn’t have even let there be a conversation with her if they weren’t fucking titans.  I didn’t think they’d be enough to take down Techilogic on their own, but if something went wrong while their kid had one of my jail-broken babies, like I knew it would have to, and they turned on the company because of it, well…”

                “It would’ve killed the market,” Brian says.

                “Bingo, Copernicus.  So see?  I didn’t fucking sell anybody out.  All I wanted from Techilogic was-”

                “Revenge,” I answer for him.

                “If that happened to be part of it, sure,” he snaps shamelessly.  “I don’t have to defend myself to you fuckers after what they did to me, or to anybody else.  I just had to make things right.  Even.”

                “Those aren’t the same things,” Kelly snarls.

                “Not to mention how convenient it must’ve been for your wallet,” Brian says.

                “I was never in it for the money, you fuckwad.  I just wanted to survive.  That was what I’d always had to do when I was younger, before Techilogic tried to civilize me,” he fires back.  “That’s the only reason I’m still alive.  I can think ten steps ahead of everyone else.”

                “But not Julia,” I point out.

                I can feel him shuddering beneath the pressure Brian and I are exerting on him, like he wants to hit me.  Can't say I blame him.

                “Well, it’s not like I need to tell you,” he grumbles.  “She walks up real close to you and sticks a knife in your gut before you even have the chance to look her in the eye.”

                We all share a silent nod.  No further explanation is required.

                Everything we wanted to and didn’t want to know is ours in pure, crystalline clarity, and it aches just as much as I expected it to.

                After all, the end is, in all likelihood, just as close as it was a few minutes ago.

                This has gone on long enough, and our collective energy is just about sapped again.

                At last, without even having to look at each other, Brian and I struggle back to our feet, releasing our grip on Goodwin.  I half-expect him to lunge right up at the earliest opportunity and club me in the jaw before scampering off into the darkness like a wounded animal, but he makes no sudden movements, and doesn’t even pull himself up until the three of us have staggered back a few feet.  When he does finally act, his motions are weary, like those of an elderly man with just a few more days on his personal calendar to tick off.  He’s clearly just as worn down by the morbid conversation as we are.

                “You’re a coward,” Brian deadpans matter-of-factly to our predecessor.  The shiv remains clenched in his whitened hand.  “I hope you know that.”

                “Look,” Goodwin grunts, his chest heaving, though his features have, incredibly, mollified just a tad, to the point that he looks less rabid muskrat and more tortured human soul.

                A lot like us, I’d bet, if we had mirrors, though I can’t say I’d have the bravery to look at a reflection of myself now.

                “What?” Kelly responds resignedly as she leans back into a chunk of wood, her head slumped forlornly against her chest.

                “I don’t know what you want me to say.  Sorry?  Fine.  I’m sorry for creating the thing that took away the last couple years of your lives,” Goodwin says, and to my surprise, he drops the stainless steel armor of crusted sarcasm to give us the briefest glimpse of sincerity.

                “Thanks so much,” Brian says with the most passive-aggressive smile I think I’ve ever seen etched onto a person’s face.

                “That’s not all, I bet,” Goodwin continues.  “I’ve been hiding in here all this time.  Is that what you want, too, then?  A sorry for not getting out sooner and bringing the cavalry to kick in the door?  A sorry for knowing that Techilogic would kill me as soon as I poked my head out into the open again?  Okay, sure.  I’m sorry for those things, too.”

                Kelly sighs heavily, too out of it to request that the man shut the hell up.

                Brian twiddles the shiv between his fingers a few times: a little dance of death.  I can see the gears turning in his head, and I know Goodwin can, too.

                “Does that make it better?  Me saying sorry?  It’s a fucking word, and I mean it, but it does bullshit for you or your friends.  So I don’t know what you could want from me now other than my neck,” Goodwin says.  “Do what you’re going to do, then.  Old papa over here has that look in his eye.”

                Indeed, Brian is still seething, his whole body quaking, though it’s surely a fairly complicated miasma of conflicting fury all directed at varying targets including Goodwin, Julia, Charlie, Techilogic, and probably God, if Brian still has any semblance of faith.

                “I’m too sick of this.  All this bullshit.  It makes me tired,” Goodwin admits, exhausted of life, and I can tell he’s being genuine.  “So if you think it’ll make you feel better… get some kind of satisfaction for everything Julia took from you because she found me, well… go ahead.  Because I’ve had enough.”

                I know that this, too, is true.  His voice is hoarse, nearly devoid of any feeling.  Or life, for that matter.

                Brian rises to his feet with the effort of someone lifting a car off an injured loved one.  His weapon hand falls to his side as he advances on Goodwin, who remains motionless, watching him with slackened features and deceased eyes until the pair are virtually chest-to-chest.

                Instead of striking forward to plunge the tip into the throat of the PMRD’s inventor, though, Brian lets his fingers open, and the shiv clatters to the ground  much more loudly than I’d have thought possible for something so small.

                “I’ve seen plenty of people die already,” Brian croaks.  “I’ve had enough, too.”

                Goodwin nods once, recognizing himself in Brian’s face.  No mirror necessary.

                “You can have some more of the food, and there’s a warm place to sleep in the corner over there,” the bearded harbinger says, pointing off behind his mountain of collected junk.  “If you’re set on going back up there and ending it with her, go right ahead.”

                “All right,” Brian says, turning to observe the area, and is probably already contemplating the fact that his last meal on earth will consist of stale bread.  I know Kelly, with her hands pressed to her cheeks, must be thinking of things in a similar fog: the places she won’t see, the years of life she’ll miss, and most of all, the people she’ll never see again.

                Meanwhile, I’ve been stuck in my own overcast reverie, with my legs huddled up against my chest, and my hands clenched to the back of my neck as though a tornado is about to blow through, because in truth, it is.

                Inside my head, I start to thumb through the last pieces of my memory I give a damn about, like I’m sorting through an old photo album before letting it slide into a crackling bonfire.  A last rite, maybe, before I go out.

                This is what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it?

                I can see them all in aching purity.

                My foster parents, making sure I had clothes on my back and food on my plate, in spite of my childishness and lack of foresight or understanding of what was important in life before I was imprisoned.

                I hear Kelly’s voice, guiding me in the dark.  Brian’s arms, pulling me away from the edge.  Both of them blindly trusting that I could help us find the way.

                I see Anna’s kind eyes, even in her last moments, insisting with her reassuring gaze that the world didn’t have to crumble around us if we didn’t want it to.  That there was still something on the other side worth clawing toward.

                I can feel Gina’s hand wrapping around mine, her skin soft but her grip strong despite not knowing how many more breaths we get to have before Julia squeezes the last one out of us.  Something that made me feel like there was a reason to try - something good worth preserving at all costs.

                And in that moment, I know giving in just yet isn’t an option.

                We aren’t through.

                “No,” I say, and everyone’s heads turn with a start in my direction, clearly having almost forgotten I was here.  “Not yet.”

                “Jack,” Brian says.  “There’s… nothing else.  It’s done.”

                “Yes there is,” I say, standing up, and turn to Goodwin.  “Her PMRD.  You said you jail-broke it.  You know how it works.”

                He winces like I just spit into his face.  “I know what you’re thinking, kid.  Trust me.  Reprogramming it to turn on her, right?  That’s not an option, even if we can get the damn thing in our hands and turn it on.”

                “Why?” Kelly demands.  By now, all of us are standing again.

                “A failsafe.  I couldn’t afford to have anyone trace it back to me.  If anyone tries to break into the ID system and use it without authorization, the CPU is designed to corrupt itself within… I don’t know, seventeen seconds?  If I had my equipment, maybe I could get around it, but…”

                “That’s not what I meant,” I say, already having guessed our options in that respect would be limited.  “Maybe it’s too late for us.  But we can still make sure Julia never gets to take someone else’s life away.”

                Brian’s fists tighten.  Kelly bites her lip, clasping her hands together as if sending off a prayer.  Even Goodwin, a shambling corpse, bows his head a little.

                “This is kind of our last chance to, you know… matter,” I utter, looking to each pair of weary irises in turn, which seem to glow even in the dimness of this purgatory.  “What do you say?”

                The conversation didn’t last much longer before all of us, as though through divine selection, were marching single-file back through the darkness of Goodwin’s tunnels and off to martyrdom.  The tension, previously thick enough to need a power saw to even begin cutting through, seemed to melt away as all of them reached the same point as me.

                It isn’t just our lives on the line, or even those of our loved ones.

                It’s anyone out there: strangers going about their business, unaware that any year or month or hour they might become Julia’s property if she lays an eye on them for too long and takes a shine to their hair color.  People, like we used to be, unspoiled.

                We have the chance to save them now.

                Thankfully for my already inhumanly frayed nerves, we didn’t have to climb back up the invisible jungle gym of pipes and wires in the foyer walls.  Goodwin, God bless him despite all the ways he indirectly fucked us over, has spent enough years in this hellscape to construct a number of conveniences for himself, one of which is a makeshift pulley system with some unused cables from the basement and a plastic cup elevator.  One at a time, we piled into the lift and waited while the others on the top or bottom tugged at the secured cords in unison to make for an easy ascension.

                It reminded me of the sensation of sitting in Julia’s own jerry-rigged elevator in the dollhouse I’ve spent so much of my life in as I rise up into the darkness rather than the light, a confident grimace replacing the falsified smile I normally had to craft for my ex-girlfriend’s sake.  Even with the looming threat of my own end, this was infinitely preferable.

                The easiest method for voiding the device, Goodwin explains, will be to log in and then attempt to activate it with our own foreign thumbprints on the scanner.  After a couple of warnings, the CPU will just corrupt itself, and the whole package becomes unusable.

                Reaching Julia’s closet, where the PMRD is secured in its case, is considerably trickier, although Goodwin’s familiar enough with the shadowy environment to improvise a path.  After some more awkward clambering along a thin rope ladder of partially singed wires, we find ourselves above the room, sprawled in the frosted dome of the ceiling light.

                Of course, we’re more vulnerable now than ever before.  We can hear Julia pacing around in her bedroom below, slumping onto her bed and then rising again, and occasionally slamming her bedroom door to go on another round of searching.

                She’s getting more anxious than ever.  It would be a good thing for us, except for the fact that I know she’s still going to have Gina and the baby cradled in her hands.  She wouldn’t part with them unless she had the three of us smeared along the bottom of her shoe, with my mark probably stretching the furthest and bloodiest.

                Time is precious now, but our efforts are all going to be for naught if we can’t begin to predict Julia’s movements.  She seems to have no need to enter her closet, but it’s still too risky to cross our fingers and head down.  All morning we’ve heard her through the wall taking laps around the house, screwing and unscrewing grates when Ms. Coleridge isn’t nearby.  Thanks to some highly unscientific estimations of our time window, we realize Julia’s probably taking the same route around the house at roughly the same pace each time, checking few enough grates that she returns to her room just under fifteen minutes later with a margin of error too small for us to be able to worry about it.  We listen and wait, each counting the minutes, for three cycles just to confirm it.  On the fourth, we go to work.

                Putting our collective backs into it, we manage to unscrew the tinny center and, using a coil of yarn that Goodwin secures to a pipe, we slide like miniaturized firemen into the closet and down to the middle shelf, where Julia stores the PMRD’s silver briefcase behind a pile of folded jeans and shoe boxes.  With some effort, we’re able to pry open the metal tangs that hold the case closed.

                It stings a little having to look at the device, at least at first.  I sense a flinch ripple through each of us as the silver firearm is revealed in all its demonic glory.  It’s strange to see it resting here on the shelf with only a few articles of clothing guarding its capacity to corrupt the world.

                Still, I’ve never had the opportunity to stand still and study it so closely for so long, and the more I look, it becomes clear that the device wasn’t constructed by an assembly line, but by a pair of practiced hands.  The outer shell of the PMRD is, assuredly, one that’s seen plenty of sick love, but just as clearly, one that’s been taken apart before and put back together with the alignment slightly off, especially on a thinner strip of metal coiled around the back of the grip.

                In my mind, perhaps due to the fear I used to harbor, the thing was always some gleaming, all-mighty weapon of unseen deities, like something straight out of some futuristic cyberpunk nightmare.

                But it’s not.  It’s just an immensely powerful computer chip with a metal husk cobbled around it.

                Silently, we set to work, following through on Goodwin’s instructions.  There’s not much we can do in the actual sabotaging of the PMRD, but he still needs our help getting into it.  It takes all of us lifting, plus a small screwdriver head Goodwin has strapped to his back to pry the damn thing out of its space.

                “All right, scrubs, I hope you were thinking on the way up here,” he whispers as the device switches on, welcoming its user with a friendly text greeting on the touch screen attached to the barrel before insisting on the input of a password.  “This is something we’re gonna need to get into it.  I can’t bypass this without all my gear. ”

                The other two pause and glance over at me, and I think we’ve all got the same thing on our minds.  No more than a moment is required to consider it.

                “It’s… it’s probably me,” I mutter.  It feels odd to be so sure of something, when so little of my being exists in absolutes now, but this is something I know can be counted on.

                In spite of the danger and need for silence, Goodwin snorts derisively.  “Fuck.  Should’ve known that myself.  Hold on.”  He presses his fists into the neon lit touch screen, apparently just as self-assured.

                J-A-C-K.  The password input fades away, replaced by the bizarrely angelic glow of the main menu.

                We’re in.

                “God damn,” Goodwin breathes, tapping through the screens to put the PMRD into firing mode.  “Guess she’s maybe not as smart as I was giving her credit for.”

                “She’s got her weaknesses,” Brian says, nudging me on the back.

                “All right, this should be about all we need,” Goodwin says with a final punch to the touch screen.  He drags a digital slider around, allowing a new height to be chosen for the target of that impending emerald ray that stole our very existences.  On the side of the barrel, I notice the white ovular pad used to confirm the identity of the handler.  “It just needs an invalid thumbprint.  If we trip it up a few times, it’ll shut down for good.”

                Kelly sighs next to me, though I can’t say if it’s with relief for the world or gloom over the only remaining thing we can do now.  I imagine it’s a mixture of both.  Brian, too, looks pretty broken.

                My eyes travel one last time over the body of the device, tracing across a few improperly attached panels that are only held in place by some tight soldering and screws.

                In the back of my mind, I recall a few scraps of conversation here and there about the PMRD, or at least what people understand of it.  The “refraction system,” they call it, already outdated and too dangerous for public use.  Goodwin explaining his part in its original design and his understanding how the beams travel off mirrors designed to resist the effects of the shrink ray: probably the biggest breakthrough in the science nearly two decades ago.  How this scrapped together piece is essentially all mirrors, the only way he could ensure there was nothing for Techilogic to track.

                And then I see it, plain as day, and just as foolish.

                I let my jaw hang slack.

                “Stop,” I utter, my heart clenching in my chest.  It takes a lot out of a person to make these kinds of life-altering realizations so close together.

                “Why?” Goodwin grumbles, clearly just as pained over the fact that we’re essentially sealing our fates here.  He’s already got his thumb on the scanner and his foot wedged into the trigger, preparing to attempt an unauthorized firing.

                Kelly puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes, clearly assuming I’m trying to back out of my own grandiose sacrifice out of fear.  “Jack,” she whispers gently.  “It’s okay.  We’re… all going to be together.  You said yourself, this is-”

                “…not our last chance,” I breathe, still stunned and overly paranoid about the near-impossibility of what I’ve now decided is, indeed, our true final recourse.

                “What are you talking about?” Brian murmurs.

                “Your… your system,” I mumble semi-incoherently at Goodwin, who’s slid off the scanner for just long enough to let me spill out my ramblings.  “The mirrors.”

                He blinks at me, processing and not grasping.  “I told you, kid, this is the fastest way to end it.  Opening it up and scrambling the mirrors could shut it down, too, if we closed off the barrel, but-”

                “Not that,” I say.  I step forward, sliding the screwdriver tip from Goodwin’s belt before he can react and clambering inside the case with it tucked under my arm.  Pressing fingers into the back of the grip, I rap the driver head against it.  “But… but the inside.  Back to here.”

                I know I’m not making any sense at all, and I know we don’t have the time for my wild-eyed bullshit, but I can hardly understand it myself.

                The possibility that maybe, just maybe, we don’t have to die tomorrow morning.

                “What?” Kelly demands desperately.

                “Wait, you’re saying…” Goodwin begins, finally piecing it together himself.  There’s the genius after all.  He pushes me lightly out of the way, taking the screwdriver head, and leans it against the back of the grip, then holds his ear against the cold surface, testing the echo with his knuckles.  His eyes bug at the insignificant metallic response.

                “Can one of you please just-” Brian begs.  He and Kelly have climbed into the case, too, for a closer look that doesn’t bring any further answers.

                “Well, I’ll be a goddamned son of a bitch,” Goodwin musters under his breath.  He turns to me.  “You… you really think you’d be able to-”

                “Yes.”  I don’t even have to think about it, even though I don’t know for sure.  My gut answers for me.

                “Her.  You think you’d be able to get her to-”

                “Yes.”

                “How do you know?”

                “Because I know her,” I say with deadly seriousness, more confident in this moment than I’ve ever been of anything in my whole life.  “Better than she knows herself.”

                Goodwin nods, haunted by the sight of me, and turns back to the others.  “C’mon.  We’re closing up now and getting out.”

                “What?  Why?” Kelly gasps.

                “I’ll explain up there.  We’ll come back tonight and get to work,” Goodwin informs her curtly, immediately setting into shutting the PMRD down and elbowing it back into its slot with some aid from Brian and I.  “C’mon.  Let’s get moving.”

                Once we have the case shut tight and positioned on the shelf just how it was before, it’s time to make our getaway.  Goodwin climbs hand-over-hand up the yarn, then once back in the top of the light, instructs us to secure the string around our waists for the trip up.  With a steady effort, we’re able to hoist ourselves back into the ceiling, one at a time, and then as we huddle against the back wall he explains my idiotic concept to Brian and Kelly.

                There’s not much discussion.  My friends give me the same pair of questioning eyes that Goodwin did, and each believes me without any additional words.  I’m not sure I deserve their trust, but at this point, I’m going to have to just do my best not to let them down.

                Goodwin leads the charge back to the pulley system through the dark, which all at once takes its own distinctions, as though the shadows were carved by hand into something familiar and almost inviting.  I realize I don’t fear it any longer.

                Brian is the last one to come down in the cup elevator, and as it sets down on the ground, we move to help him out, but he doesn’t budge.  His arms hang at his sides, and his eyes are locked to the ground.  Knees wobbling, he shudders down to his haunches and slumps against the side.  We rush to his side, grappling with his gelatinous limbs.

                Has he lost the will at last?  When we’re so close?

                I’m not accepting that, and I don’t think Kelly is either.

                “Brian?” Kelly whispers pointedly.  “What’s wrong?”

                “Faith,” Brian says after a pained pause.  He bites his lip and, miraculously, smiles.  It catches me off guard, and instantly silences everyone present.  Even Goodwin.  “Her name is Faith.”

                And now we understand.  He’s not giving up.  Against unfathomable odds, Brian’s allowed a wisp of hope to worm its way into his heart.  It’s been so long since I’ve seen such a little miracle in another person, I almost didn’t recognize it.  Low as we are right now, it’s incredibly infectious.

                “It’s a beautiful name,” Kelly says, putting an arm around his shoulder.  The both of us spend a moment huddling closer to the new father, basking in the dim but nonetheless visible glow of humanity Brian’s tendered for us.  “Like she is.”

                Time is short, and we don’t have minutes to spend lying on the ground like idiotic stargazers.  An eerily reverent Goodwin pulls us to our feet after a minute’s respite.  Still, there’s nothing that’s been as liberating in the last emotionally tortuous day than to have someone discuss a future event as though it’s an inevitability.

                As though we truly can live to see it.

                Hell, I’m even starting to believe we can.

                As we trek through one of Goodwin’s furrowed tunnels and approach his junk kingdom again, I can’t help but smirk a little to myself and allow my previously clenched fists to loosen just a little.  It’s good that Brian said that now, because Faith is just about the only thing that’s going to deliver us from annihilation.

                After all, tomorrow morning we go to war with the devil.

There’s something electric coursing through my veins.  Blood, skin, bone: all of it linked with peculiar clarity to my thoughts, like I own myself again for the first time in longer than I can remember.  It’s a bizarre and almost entirely novel sensation to think there’s even the slimmest chance I could regain control of my own destiny and not have my every breath subject to the whims of a mad goddess.  Everything inside me feels aggressively, furiously, rebelliously alive even though the odds of ever seeing another sunset are just a tad more likely than winning the lottery twice in a row.  That, still, might even be a stretch.

                But stretches are all we’re going to get now, and somehow, I’m all right with that.  I know that whatever happens next will be because I chose it, not Julia, or whatever deaf, dumb, and blind higher beings may exist out there.  It’s calming like nothing else.  I know my heart should be pounding hard enough to power a freight train right now, but it’s not.  Instead I find the most unlikely kind of serenity in the waiting.  Fear and morbidity are still present in healthy doses, but all other feelings come second to the euphoric sensation of autonomy.

                Brian, Kelly, Goodwin, and I have been catching our breaths for the past hour behind a tall stack of fluffy bath towels in a hall closet, shrouded comfortably in darkness and downy air.  We haven’t had much light or clean air for the past day as we scurried through the dank walls, working to prepare for our shot in the dark.  Partway through, we had to pause just to ensure we didn’t crumple over from exhaustion, but luckily Goodwin came to the rescue with water siphoned from a loose pipe in the wall and powdered coffee beans he’d managed to swipe from behind the kitchen trash can.  It’s not much of a last meal, but it gave us the final push we needed.

                As we all sit on the tile floor, Kelly finds my hand and Brian’s, grasping them as tightly as she can manage despite fatigued muscles.  We squeeze back with just as much force, bowing our heads in the blackness.  We’re all we’ve got left, after all.  I can almost hear our heartbeats syncing, heaving at first from nerves and resignation, but at last slowing down far more than anyone in our positions should be capable of.  That’s as ready as we’re probably going to be.

                “Hey,” Goodwin whispers coolly.  He hasn’t done much talking since the ultimate decision was made, other than directing us through the plaster mazes of the house, and hearing him make a sound catches me by surprise.

                “Yeah?” Kelly says.

                “I meant what I said.”

                “Which part?” Brian drawls.

                “I am sorry,” he utters.  The words, broken and peeled back as they are, come off as more honest than anything he’s said to us in our short time together.  If we can believe nothing else that comes from this hollow creature’s mouth, I know we can believe these three painful little words.

                “We know,” Brian answers without resentment, and this, too, can be trusted.  The silence that follows brings the closest thing to peace I think we may ever receive again, and I relish it, in the back of my throat and on the tips of my fingers as I cling to my friends.  We’re perched on the end of our miniature universe and poised to topple into oblivion.

                I hear it now.  The familiar crackling of the speakers affixed to the wall, down the hall and high above our heads, and that godlike rumble preceding the words of someone who surely spawned from the complete opposite end of creation.

                “All right, little ones.  Listen up.  Wherever you are,” Julia sighs, her syllables softer than the day before.  “I’ve been patient with all of you.  Much more than you deserve.  But now you’re going to come back to me so I can put you where you belong.”

                Where she thinks we belong at this point is anyone’s guess, though we can probably rule out anything that averts torture of the most exquisite brand.  Still her tone betrays something else.  Kind, almost, and genuinely loving.  I haven’t heard her speak like that since the last time we shared an intimate moment together, when she seemed to believe it was just the pair of us in her vile makeshift world and no one else.

                “Listen to me,” she repeats, the familiar bite of her tone beginning to seep through the foggy audio.  “I know you must think I’m stupid for letting you all get away so easy.  But I’m not.  You all still belong to me, no matter how far you go.  Even if you went to the other side of the Earth.  You’d be mine.”

                I’m starting to recognize the voice again the further she goes.

                Not to mention the incurable god complex.

                “I told you what would happen if you don’t come.  And unless I have you all in front of me in the next ten minutes, I’m going to put Gina and baby Julia in my mouth,” Julia continues.  “I’m going to suck them.  Hard.  Over and over.  Until all the meat comes off their bones.”

                There’s our girl.  I was beginning to think we’d lost her.

                “They don’t have to mean anything to me.  Do you hear me?  I can get more of them anytime I want.  Just like you.  But I won’t, until you all understand that as much as I do,” Julia explains calmly.  “So when you come in to the room, you’re going to walk.  No surprises.  All at the same time.  And get down in front of me.  On your tiny little knees.  Like you’re meant to be.”

                Another muffled click brings an end to the transmission, and we’re left alone with a potentially mercifully short future laid out before us.

                Here we are, holding the last real decision of our lives in our feeble and potentially fallible grasp.  It feels weightier than I could’ve imagined, almost enough to force me to the ground, but Kelly’s hand keeps me up.  The caffeine pumping through my body doesn’t hurt, either.

                “There’s something you need to understand,” Goodwin says.  “If this works.  If we somehow can… you know….”

                “What?” Brian says.

                “…we can’t let people know.  Nobody.  Do you get that?” our haggard host grunts.  “If you want anything to come of getting out of this place, you have to stay silent.”

                “We know,” Kelly says with difficulty.

                “I’ll have to run again, for as long as I can go, anyway.  And Techilogic will keep you quiet too, however they have to,” he says.  “Don’t give them a reason to do it the hard way.”

                “I guess we cross that bridge if we come to it,” Brian says, oddly contented.

                “When,” corrects Kelly.  “When we come to it.”

                When.

                What a word.  Like we’ve got a future or something.  It’s incredibly difficult not to believe her.

                “When,” Brian agrees quietly.  He nods, thanking her for that unwavering spirit of hers.  “So everybody knows what they’re doing, then?”

                “Yep,” Kelly whispers.

                “Roger that,” Goodwin mumbles.  He leans in further, and I can feel his empty gaze affixed to my face.  “Kid?”

                “Absolutely,” I say.  Kelly’s grip tightens around my palm, and Brian’s hand reaches my shoulder.

                “Okay,” Goodwin says, rising steadily to his feet.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

                Supporting one another’s weights, we follow suit, staggering up with surprising ease.  The ground feels lighter beneath my feet, as though I could leap a full foot into the air, which is pretty good for someone only standing at a matter of inches.

                “You’re gonna do it, Jack,” Brian reassures as we all march toward the crack under the door, where my destiny awaits so potently.  “You know the inside of her head.”

                “Just like we rehearsed it,” Kelly reminds me.

                “Right,” I say, chewing the words over in my head that I’ve been repeating all night to the pair of them in preparation.  Even with all that, I know nothing can fully ready me for what’s coming, but I swallow this shadow of a doubt.  There’s no room for that now.

                Crouching down, I begin to crawl into the light, already feeling more exposed than ever before as the hall light touches my skin, but still no more fear than before.

                “Jack,” Kelly whispers, stooping down next to me a final time before I can slip under the opening.

                “You’ll…” she continues, closing her eyes.  “You’ll be all right.”

                “Thanks,” I say.  “You will too.”  With a final glance at my friends I dart under the crack and pull myself up into the light of the grandiose hallway.

                Large even by the standards of a normal sized-human being, the carved ceiling and immaculately patterned ruby wallpaper stretching on for seeming miles everywhere my eyes can reach certainly makes for a fittingly decorative death march.

                The path to Julia’s room from here is fifteen feet at most, but even with a steady walking pace the oriental carpet seems to elongate with every step I take.  The white door where my fate awaits looms higher and higher: a wooden monolith, where I’m about to chitchat my way through our personal version of Judgment Day.

                Still my body remains free, uninhibited by terror or gravity even as I prepare to put myself directly back in snatching range of my psychotic captor and most likely ex-girlfriend.  I am the length of someone’s finger, but at this moment, with the air puffed up in my lungs and my arms still tingling with the comforting memory of my friend’s embrace, I feel confident enough to skip my way up into heaven and land a solid right hook on the face of whoever might be up there spectating.

                The carpet comes to an end, as does my robotic march, before the door offering a final blockade between me and the next life.  I always imagined there would be a glow, too, but I suppose it’s at least painted white, so that’s something.

                I lower myself onto my haunches, crawling to squeeze under the low-hanging crack of the door.  Feeling the scraggly floor skimming against my forearms and shins, the wood bumping against my back, I swallow a hard lump.  No matter what happens, no matter what she says or does or breaks in my body, this is the last time in my life I will willfully bow on my knees near Julia.

                As I re-enter the decadently adorned bedroom, immediately snapping back to my full meager height, my eyes sweep the space.  So much life was had and then taken away in this frilly prison, and I had started to imagine it as the outer limits of my world.  Now, it all feels much smaller than it used to, and coming from someone as short as I currently am, that’s saying something.  I know I need no longer confine myself to its constrictive surfaces.

                Of course I see her, too.  Our girl.  With her dark chocolate locks straightened, a new skirt hugging her toned thighs, and her bare toes pressed to the floor and painted a fresh sea blue to match her eyes, even I have to admit she looks noticeably radiant for an inhuman monster.  It occurs to me that she actually dressed up for this meeting as though going to church, even putting on make-up.  She’s seated on the end of her bed about ten feet away from me, facing the door but with her attention focused into the center of her pale palm, where Gina appears to be cradling a surprisingly quiet Faith.

                I restrain the fury at seeing my love and Brian’s child trapped in Julia’s mighty hand, instead allowing myself a peaceful smile.  Here goes nothing.  The words come easily into my throat and seem to fill the room with improbable volume as I bellow:

                “Good morning, Julia.”

Julia’s oceanic irises snap to me before the familiar greeting has even finished leaving my lips.  For a moment, her frame jostles as though I’ve startled her, and I can’t blame her.  She probably wasn’t anticipating the kind of death-wish confidence I just displayed by amiably roaring a morning salute to the girl who’s probably literal seconds from swiping me up into her fist and pinching my bones to powder one joint at a time.

                Her enormous toes curl provocatively against the carpet, grasping at the fibers, as though she’s about to pounce like a jungle cat, but there’s no other movement in her body after her palm containing Gina and Faith lowers back into her skirted lap.  From this distance, it’s harder to read the sixteen-year-old’s face, especially since she’s pursed her glossed lips and opened her eyes to such a state of chilling neutrality.  She might just as well be desiring to pop me back into her crotch as she is planning a fiery apocalypse for all mankind.

                Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Julia was capable of managing both those emotions at once.

                The seconds tick by and I still haven’t been pulverized by those pale toes or found myself suffocated into the pad of my ex-girlfriend’s massive palm.  All organic matter remains as eerie stone.  Silence settles fully back into the room, though when I concentrate, I think I can hear Gina’s breathing getting heavier even from all the way down here.  After all, she’s most likely assumed she’s going to have to watch me die now, and that’s a much more likely conclusion than the mad designs our ragtag band has been coming up with inside the walls all night.

                Julia’s pupils remain trained directly onto me as I stand calmly on the carpet a matter of footsteps away, looking rather pathetic with the towering white door behind me.  I’ve been under this kind of scrutinizing gaze many a time by Julia, feeling as though the layers of my skin and muscle were being peeled back just by the glow of those blue eyes, but not today.  Right now, and maybe for the first time, she’s just a girl.  Granted, a girl with a powerful tool, a deadly charm, a homicidal streak, and the singular wish to possess all the world as her toys and candies.

                But nonetheless, a girl.

                And I will not allow her to be anything more to me from now on.

                Over a minute of stinging quietude rolls by before Julia’s plush lips part, exhaling audibly and sighing deeply enough to fully re-inflate her lungs.  She’s in no hurry, but luckily, neither am I.

                “Jack,” she says.  I’m surprised the word isn’t expelled with vomit.  If anything, she speaks sweetly to me.  Even calmingly.  “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

                It’s a rational thing to say; she probably wants a clean canvas before she turns me into human splatter pattern art.

                “I’m here,” I say, holding my arms out as wide as I can.  For as vulnerable as I am at this moment, I feel oddly invincible.

                “Yes,” she answers.  Her fingers curl possessively inward toward her palm, forcing Gina and Faith further back against the heel of her hand.  “So where are the other two?”

                “Still inside the wall,” I say, shrugging nonchalantly.

                “Oh?” A frown crosses Julia’s brow, and her toes cease flexing and instead set to tapping impatiently against the floor.  “Is that so?”

                “Yes.  That’s so.” I say simply, willing myself to remain still.  Already I can see this is working and I’ve barely said anything.  It’s burning her up just a little to be shown such flippant insubordination by her former lover, and as hard as she’s trying to keep from letting a single emotion show itself, I can see her truer side starting to come through.

                “That wasn’t the deal,” she informs me with a little less of her earlier gentility.  “You heard what I said yesterday to the house, didn’t you?”

                “Yes.”

                “You know what I’m going to do to them if I don’t have all of you in here now?”

                “Of course I do,” I say coolly.  No lying required here.  “I’ve seen you do it to people before.  I know you aren’t kidding.”

                “Good,” she scoffs.  Her nostrils flare.  Her right foot shifts its weight against the floor as though she’s considering standing, but then thinks better of it.  “So why don’t I have all three of you in here now?”

                “I wanted to come here myself first,” I say.  “So I delayed them.”

                “Delayed them?”

                “I didn’t hurt them.  I just blocked off the way out of the wall,” I say.  “I thought it was important you and I talk first.”

                “And why should I believe you did that?”

                “You don’t have to,” I say.  “But you know Brian.  You really think he’d let me risk his baby getting swallowed by letting me come in here alone?”

                Julia pauses, considering me from a new angle.  She lightly chews her lower lip.  “I’m not going to let Gina or Baby Julia go until I have all of you back.”

                “I know that,” I say.  “We can talk, and then I’ll show you where they’re hiding.”

                “I’m not in the mood to play mind games, baby,” she responds swiftly, the sarcasm dripping from each word.  Her tongue peeps from the corner of her mouth, smacking wetly at the inside of her cheek.  “Not anymore.”

                “No one ever was,” I say.  “That’s why it’s just me here now.”

                “I don’t think we have anything to talk about now.  Not after what you’ve done to what we had,” she says.  With her free hand, she twirls a finger through her dark locks, tucking them gingerly behind her ears.  “It’s really not complicated.  Nobody’s going to leave.  I’m going to get all of you back here with me again.  And then I won’t have to eat anyone.”

                At last she smiles that well-worn victorious smile of hers, letting the dimples deepen in her cheeks, but I remain as stoic as ever.  She doesn’t get to have a single inch here.

                “There’s where you’re wrong,” I say boldly, and this time I’m rewarded with a flinch as her grin fades just as quickly as it was flashed.  “There is something that needs to be said.  Me to you.  I just haven’t known how to say it before.”

                “And what might that be, Jack?”

                Her attention is solely on me.  I’d guess she’s hardly aware now of the two lives perched in her hand.  I’ve never felt so specifically like the center of someone’s universe.

                “I realized something while we were hiding in that wall, Julia,” I proceed after letting the air catch in my chest.  “All this time you’ve been shrinking people and keeping them because you think you’re better than us.  Haven’t you?”

                “I know I am,” she says without thinking.  Her tone remains frigid.

                “So why do you have to shrink us, then?  Why not just tell us yourself?  If you were really better than us, you wouldn’t need your fancy little toy to prove it,” I challenge.

                A few successive blinks.  Julia’s internally dumbfounded at what I assume to be the first time anyone has ever dared call her out on this genocidal hobby of hers, though she still doesn’t let it show.

                “I don’t need it,” she affirms after mulling it over, the confidence redoubled in her voice.  “Maybe at first, just so I can keep you long enough to learn your lesson.  If I made you big again now, do you really think it would make any difference?  Do you really think you could ever live without knowing you’re mine?”

                It’s at this juncture that I let out a chuckle that earns another cringe from Julia.  I’m really starting to spook her now.

                “I don’t think anything would ever change, Julia,” I say truthfully.  “My size doesn’t matter anymore.  Maybe it never did, and I just had to learn the way things really are.  So I guess I owe you thanks for that…”

                “You’re welcome, Jack,” she whispers bitterly, her eyes narrowing as she studies me again.  “Are you telling me you understand now?”

                “Yes,” I say.  “I had to be on my own for a day to know it, but it’s never been clearer to me than right now.”

                “Really?”  Julia’s elegant eyebrow rises.  As paranoid as she’s probably become in the last thirty-six hours, I can see how desperately even now she wants to believe she can still own my entire being rather than just the little meat sack I happen to inhabit.  The desperation to be wanted by someone she imprisoned is still healthier than ever.  God, it’s sad.

                “Of course,” I say, lowering my hands behind my back and clenching my fingers together to keep them from shaking.  “No matter what size I am, I will never let you make me small.”

                Few things in the past few years have given me as much joy as I feel now in watching the momentary hope squelched from Julia’s eyes, replaced with seething rage.  If Gina and Faith weren’t still so precariously poised in Julia’s hand, I might even allow myself a little touchdown dance.

                The towering brunette’s lowers her arm to the bedspread, allowing Gina, still clutching Faith to her bare chest, to stumble from the overbearing palm and onto the sheets.

                In that moment, even from all this distance, I manage to catch Gina’s gaze.  Her eyes appear to already be glistening, anticipating the particularly messy demise I seem to be arranging for myself right now.  Her lip quivers, begging me to drop to my knees and give Julia what she wants so I don’t have to die.

                “You!” Julia laughs, taking several booming steps forward.  “You will never be small?”  She slams each bare foot down with ample force, enough to rattle the walls and nearly knock me off balance.  I clutch my knees, not daring to let myself fall before her, even now as she takes a final step and halts just short of me.  A few inches before me are those murderously wriggling toes, the nails gleaming with that fresh coat of blue polish.

                “No,” I say resolutely, staring up the monolithic spire of Julia’s body.  Though I can’t even reach her ankle, we’re eye-to-eye now like never before.  “You could make me into an ant, or dust, or a microbe if you wanted.  It doesn’t matter.  Because you couldn’t possibly make yourself big enough to stand above me.  Or any of us.”

                A pregnant pause ensues.  Julia doesn’t conjure up a response, though as her foot suddenly lurches forward, her big toe pile-driving itself into my stomach, I think I have an idea of her opinion on my little speech.

                My legs leave the ground as her firm digit squeezes the wind from my lungs and picks up just high enough that my tumble backwards and onto the ground isn’t going to leave any lasting damage.  Though that’s not to say it doesn’t hurt like hell as I roll over backwards several times, fairly confident I now know what it feels like to be fired through the windshield of a high-speed vehicle.  Even as I slide onto my side, clutching my sore stomach, the brunt of the assault still makes me feel as though Julia’s toe is pressing into my gut, compressing all my internal organs beneath the heft of her muscle and flesh.

                In the next instant, the sensation is made into reality again.  I feel her toe squeeze down onto my abdomen, preventing oxygen from making its way back in.  Her heel pivots against the carpet, working me with such delicacy yet still keeping me pinned squarely under her digit.

                Obviously Julia felt a practical demonstration would be the best refutation of my babbling about scale differences, and frankly, there aren’t many good rhetorical arguments I could be making now as she gives me another solid mashing.  Though that’s partially to blame on the fact that I can hardly get enough air to eke out a life-giving gasp, let alone debate the issue.

                Looking up between the crevice of Julia’s toes, her face high above is steadfast and determined, her eyes almost completely closed.  I can see her sliding her tongue over her top row of teeth as she retaliates for my remarks, perhaps permanently.  She savors every squirm beneath her foot that I can uselessly present.  I’ve clearly pushed Julia way out of her emotional equilibrium bubble, enough so that I think I was close to getting exactly what I want from her, but right now, I appear to be on the losing side as she infuses fresh bruises into my aching body.

                Maybe all of that wasn’t enough.

                Maybe after all my foolish bravado about goddesses and bugs I still failed us all.

                “JULIA!”

                The scream surprises both me and its recipient, enough so that Julia actually lifts her toe off my quaking body.  It takes a second for me to recognize the voice’s owner as Gina, and even less time for my heart to jolt into more action than when Julia was threatening to liquefy me a moment ago.

                Julia gives her full attention over to Gina now, cocking her head to the side in that curious way she always does as she takes a few pounding steps back toward the bed.  I fight my way to my haunches as I watch her enormous slender heels lumber off, but from the crushing blow followed by rollicking dizziness and robbery of air, I’m still trying to reorient my sense of the world without falling over again.  I can feel my legs protest as I take a few wobbling strides after the massive teen.

                “Yes, Gina?” Julia utters pleasantly, slipping easily back into that perturbed teacher voice we all know so well.  It’s a mask I haven’t seen her wear in a while, not since she killed Beth.  “Did you have something to add before I finish teaching my precious little Jack his most important lesson of all?”

                I watch Gina give Faith a kiss on the forehead before wrapping the infant a little tighter in her cloth scrap and setting her down on the bed.  Whatever she’s about to do, she obviously wants no collateral inflicted on the innocent two-day-old.  She takes a few steps forward closer to the edge of the bed, her legs quivering but her stance just as wildly confident as mine was before Julia kicked it out of me.

                “He’s right,” Gina declares, looking straight up at Julia as well and even pointing an accusing finger.  “You can make us as small as you want, but none of us have to be small if we don’t want to.”

                “Is that so?” Julia responds snarkily, practically daring a follow-up from her romantic rival.  Copying her new tiny opponent, Julia prods her thumb into Gina’s chest, forcing her back a few steps, but my dearest friend holds firm.  If I’m going down, she’s clearly intent on going with me and any others in this house, and most importantly, with our heads held high.

                “Yes,” Gina musters.

                “For someone so scared of heights, little Gina, you’re getting awfully mouthy,” Julia poses.  In one smooth motion, she scoops her palm back under Gina and dangles her under the arms, holding her up with more than enough of a drop to set the shrunken girl’s phobia aflame.  “Imagine how much higher in the sky you’ll be when I make you even smaller.  You still think it won’t make a difference?”

                I see Gina’s squirming grow more intense as she cowers in the terrifying grip of Julia’s playful fingers, rising up and up, her legs swimming over the open air of a topple equivalent to a naked dive off a skyscraper.  This is easily the highest she’s ever been held in the air by our cruel tormentor, and no amount of my pleading would be able to save her this time.

                And then it stops.  Gina’s arms fall to the side against Julia’s restrictive digits, and she lets her legs hang calmly in the open.  Her muscles appear to be constricting against further trembling.  As she lifts her head up again to look Julia square in the eye rather than observing the death plunge below, I don’t need to be able to see her distant expression to know what’s happening, because the rage has flushed Julia’s cheeks three shades pinker.

                “No, Julia,” Gina announces loudly enough for me to hear, her fear alive as ever but no longer keeping her prisoner.  “It won’t make any difference… at… all.”

                That did it.

                “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” Julia intones with a bloodthirsty cool.  Plucking Gina back out of her opposite hand between a thumb and forefinger, she lets the lingering image of the spiraling drop sink in before lowering my personal savior back to the mattress far below.  Even as she plops Gina from her grip, I watch her pull herself immediately back to her feet.

                Julia stalks directly toward our massive gamble of a trap, her back to her two subdued detainees.  Gina looks to me from the bedspread, hugging her arms around her chest, her eyes blank.  Knowing there’s no way now to try and catch her up to speed on the plan, I give her a wink and the most reassuring smile I can come up with, no matter how much it’s going to confuse her.  In spite of believing she’s about to be shrunken down to pinky-nail size and suspended high enough to give an astronaut vertigo, Gina returns the gesture.

                I look to Gina as long as I can safely allow us, and by the time I turn back to our hulking companion, she’s already pounding back across the floor on a hormone-and-adrenaline-fueled warpath.  There’s no pretense of her trademark politeness any longer.  It’s all out there now.  The tampered PMRD is already snapped out of its case and squeezed adamantly in Julia’s fist, the chintzy machinery whirring with life.  I can see her palm is centered right over the handle, precisely where we need it.  Her itchy trigger finger is curled in as she finishes tapping at the touch screen and takes aim directly at Gina, who doesn’t budge a muscle.

                I cross my hands behind my back.  Come on, Goodwin.  Please let that genius still be in there somewhere.

                Julia’s finger squeezes the trigger, but instead of bathing Gina in the PMRD’s damning green glow, a clunk resounds from inside, followed by a chugging series of clicks, as though the little machine was trying to give birth.

                Please.

                Please, please, please.

                Please.

                There’s a twitch in Julia’s eye as she slams her other hand into the side of the barrel and grits her teeth to hold back the roar, thoroughly enraged to find Gina hasn’t already been reduced to a ladybug.  A final chirp brings an abrupt halt to the unsettling cacophony of ticking gears and mirror panels inside the PMRD, just as Julia was beginning to lower the deadly weapon away from its target.  A frown etching into her forehead, I watch her grapple in irritation with the handle, allowing the partially chipped casing to peer out from beneath her fingers, and that’s when I see it.

                The emerald luster I know all too well, firing not from the end of the firearm, but from its cobbled handle, thanks to Goodwin’s careful tweaking of its internal hardware last night.  And it appears to have hit its target dead-on.

                Julia’s probably already feeling the cold sliding cancerously beneath her skin as she begins losing inches faster than I can blink: an entirely novel experience for her, I’m sure.  She flings the traitorous PMRD into the mattress headboard hard enough that some of its casing cracks away before the whole junky contraption plops onto her pillow.  Even if the full effect of her intended fate for Gina can’t take hold, the device’s potent rays have already beamed against her skin for several seconds.  It’s more than enough to do some damage.

                Sinking into the billowing shell of her clothing like a parachute, Julia wrestles through the skirt as the ground looms closer.  She flops onto the carpet with a hard slam on her back, kicking out of the restricting articles and scrambling back to her feet with fists clenched, hair tussled and pale flesh of her full naked form completely on display like the rabid animal she truly is.

                I’ve seen her completely nude before, but never like this.  Now, she truly is stripped of everything.

                Gina’s looking understandably flabbergasted as she scoops Faith back up and retreats further away from the edge of the bed, but not nearly so much as the actual victim of our elaborate deception.  Staggering back, taking it all in as she passes below the two-foot mark, Julia looks briefly to me, familiar fire in her eyes as the ruse at last becomes clear.  By the time she’s processed the madness of it, floundering to her haunches with intermingled terror and fury, I can’t imagine Julia stands at more than a modest twelve inches tall.  Not tall enough to reach up to the bed now, even, to grasp for Gina, or more importantly, the damaged PMRD.

                Still plenty tall to kill me where I stand, of course.

                And as she refocuses on me with a vengeful fervor, those blue eyes radiating so brightly they might as well be screaming, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Julia will kill me if she can lay another hand on my body.

                A cry bursts from her lips, bloodcurdling enough to make you think she’d been shot through the chest rather than reduced in size.  Tears flow from her reddened eyes as her hands pass frantically across the smooth curves of her body, checking to ensure everything is still there, and probably hoping it’s just a trick of the light.  To Julia, of course, what we’ve done is far, far worse than any physical punishment that could be doled out by goddess or man.

                This is her literal worst nightmare, come to fruition.

                Even if we all die right now along with what remains of human justice, I think I can go contentedly knowing we deposed Julia from her throne and brought her whole miniature empire down into the dust.  Right now, she’s discovering herself precisely where she’s spent years trying to convince us we and we alone belong.

                Beneath.

                My ex-girlfriend is already sprinting toward me, her loss of height doing little to impede her now-unquenchable thirst for grisly comeuppance, and at four times my stature, it doesn’t take much to close the distance.  In another moment she’ll have my neck in her fist.  Another moment after that she’ll have a lump of bloody flesh in her fist.

                That’s when I feel a different and much smaller hand around my ankle, tugging me roughly down to the ground.  It’s Brian, yanking me with all his might into the preserving temporary sanctity underneath the crack of the door.  Julia’s hands slam into the wood, her fingers clawing for me just as I pass beneath the threshold: far too thin for her to follow us with her entire body.  Julia’s palm grazes against the top of my head, nearly closing in with those powerful fingers, but I pass from her grip and back out to the hallway before she has a chance to pop my skull open.

                Screeching erupts cataclysmically from the bedroom as Julia sets about kicking the door, and almost immediately, we hear the rattle of her laptop’s power cord being tossed up at the door handle, clearly to pull it down and continue in carnivorous pursuit.  Ravenous as Julia is now in her painfully vulnerable and emotionally unleashed state, no barrier made of wood, steel, or hellfire is going to stop her from ripping the life directly out of my throat.

                Brian throws an arm around me, too scared to speak.  We’re not out of the woods yet, and we know we can’t have much more than a minute to act, given how frantically we can hear the rattle of Julia’s improvised lasso against the door, just barely missing its mark.  With any luck, Kelly and Goodwin are already in place inside the wall.

                “Plan B?” Brian whispers urgently.

                “Plan B,” I agree as we take off running in the other direction just as the bedroom door handle twists downward.

“All right, you little fucking freaks…” Julia spews as she shoves her way through the partially opened bedroom door and advances into the hallway.  “…no more lessons.  This is your last day at school.”

                The eerie words of our “teacher” notwithstanding, just her tone of voice would’ve been enough to know how truly delirious we’ve made Julia.  Grossly maladjusted to being reduced anywhere near to our level, she blinks more rapidly every time her eyes meet a new and far more prodigious sight.  Even if we’d succeeded in shrinking her down all the way to an inch, I can’t imagine her ire would be any less intimidating, though the difference now is that twelve inches, she could still quite easily bring about the extinction of her former pets.

                And from the look she gave me on our way under the door after Goodwin’s PMRD retooling took its satisfying toll, I know that’s exactly what she plans on enacting.

                Following the plan, Brian and I continue sprinting to the closer end of the hallway while Kelly and Goodwin set to work inside the wall.  We turn the corner before Julia has a chance to lay eyes on us.  After how fast she moved back in the room, I know it won’t take long for her to put herself right on top again.

                With only a matter of seconds to spare, Brian and I reach the string we unraveled during the night across the hallway rug.  The line runs into a crack in the wall beneath a narrow mahogany table, with its opposite end looped around a pair of nails we managed to pry just loose enough to act as an anchor.

                In this angle of the hall, with the nearest window so far down and its curtains billowing above an air vent, the light falls just far enough away that the string is practically invisible unless you happen to be down at our eye level.

                “You think you’re so smart?  You think you’re better than me?  You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?” Julia croaks.  I can’t even tell if she’s speaking to me or the entire universe.  Probably both.  Her voice is getting raspier by the second.  She’s obviously not coping well with the degradation of her insane new reality.  I hear her stumbling, leaning against the wall for support as she advances.  She’s a breath away from turning the corner.

                I look to Brian and we share a nod as he slips behind the angular leg of the table, scooping up the end of the cord in his fist.

                Julia’s gaze meets mine just as I turn back around, with only a pebble’s throw between us.  The deep blue bowls of her eyes are singed on the ends by reddening veins in her scleras as madness crawls over her outer shell.  She may be quadruple our size, but she’s already hunching over lower like some haggard gremlin, resting her hands against her wobbling knees for support.  Her chest is heaving to work through a completely understandable panic attack, and the rest of her is quivering almost as much: her entire naked body flushed pink with shock.  Even as those cutting irises attempt to slice through me with a withering glare, I feel lighter than ever.  It’s more like staring at a wild animal now than a murderous teen.  She’s shedding humanity even faster than clothes or inches.

                “Jack,” she utters, hacking to catch her breath.  The word is hardly distinguishable from how thoroughly her throat chars the syllable.

                “Julia,” I say back mockingly, placing my hands on my hips and stepping backwards over the concealed string.  “Something the matter?”

                “I wasn’t going to kill you, you know,” she growls, nearly overcome with rage just from looking at me.  Her limbs are shaking hard enough that it’s a wonder she can even remain standing.  “Maybe I was going to take some things away, like your little cock, but you’d have seen.  I could’ve been reasonable, even when you betrayed everything I ever gave you.”

                “I can’t believe I missed out,” I simper at this proposal to have castrated me, continuing to shuffle backwards across the carpeting.  “Was that just a one-time offer?”

                Julia only shakes her head, incapable of grappling with any of my foolish rebellion when she already has me so clearly in her sights and ripe for the clawing.  Her left leg stiffens, and I can see her shifting her weight to avoid tripping over thin air.  She’s cracking badly and not even making an effort to hide it now.

                “But I won’t keep you anymore, Jack,” she spits.  “Not after this.  I won’t be this.  You… you can’t just fucking-”

                “Actually, Julia,” I interrupt cheekily.  “We not only can, but we kinda just did.  Funny, huh?”

                “Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you, Jack?  To all of you?”

                “No, but I’m sure I won’t have to wait long to find out, will I?”  I’m smiling and crossing my arms like a cheesy stay-in-school poster, but Julia is seething so radically she can’t even see through my paper-thin guise.

                “I’ll save you for last.  So you can watch it all,” Julia threatens, at last taking a stumbling step forward.  “First I’m going to put you in your jar.”

                “I don’t even have my own jar,” I snicker.

                “And then I’m going to peel them.  All of them, down to their bones.  Like little guppies.  And put them in the jar with you.”

                All right, even in my adrenaline-high state of do-or-die confidence, that idea is enough to chill me to the bone, but it doesn’t matter now.  What we need is time for Kelly and Goodwin to finish their work.  And in about two seconds, if there’s any luck left to be squeezed out of this surreal hellscape of a situation, they’ll have it.

                “That’ll be awfully hard to do if I’m running around inside the walls again,” I say with a shrug, scratching the back of my neck.  “Kind of pokes a hole in your plan, doesn’t it?”

                “You honestly think you can get away from me?  You messed up my gun and that still didn’t work for you, and do you know why?  Because you weren’t meant to be beat me,” Julia snarls, pious as ever.  “I could already have you right now if I wanted.”

                “So why don’t you?” I laugh and, God help me, I flip Julia the bird before making a beeline in the opposite direction down the hallway.

                I don’t make it more than two miniature strides before I feel the ground quaking with Julia’s pounding footsteps as she sprints in hot pursuit.  Daring to look over my shoulder is not something I’m feeling up to at this moment.  If my goal was to get her fired up, I guess I’ve succeeded.

                But I don’t feel Julia’s hands slamming into my back and pulling me into a pulverizing compaction.  Instead I hear the near-silent swish of the string rising up from the carpet as Brian gives the pulley a tug with all his might.

                I also hear a shriek of surprise and pain from Julia as she runs directly into the wire, which slices against her stomach, clotheslining her flat onto her back with another hard slam.  Gathering the bravery to turn around and peek at the felled beast of a girl as she loudly moans over the stinging wound, I get a glimpse of the cut along the width of her abdomen, plus the look in her eye as she groggily lifts her head just in time to see Brian and I taking off at our pathetic top speed.

                The vent, so far down the hallway it might as well be a mirage, grows larger in the swimming rush of my field of vision like it did two days ago on the sprint from Julia’s dollhouse.  I hear the slamming of her feet behind us again, closing in faster even as she cries over the probably-bleeding cut, and allow it to spur me forward.  For once, it pays off to be the smallest guy in the room as Brian and I swan dive through the air in a desperate panic, slamming through the grating and into metallic sanctity on the other side.

                I look to Brian in the pillars of dim light we have to work with, silently asking a question.  He shakes his head, confirming we need to drag this out a little further.  Part of his job was to keep track of the passing seconds as we diverted Julia long enough to extract Gina and Faith, and it’s one we knew he would take seriously after all the careful timing practice we performed in the walls last night.  I nod, helping him to his feet and dusting myself off.

                “How much longer?” I utter into Brian’s ear, so quietly I might as well have just been exhaling.

                “Two minutes,” he says into mine.

                Down to the wire.

                Julia lets loose some mangled hybrid of a scream and a screech I couldn’t possibly have identified as human if I wasn’t right here to witness it.  Each of us cover our ears, observing the rampaging teen as she rattles the caged wall in her white knuckles.  The screws are still loosened after her thorough morning hunt yesterday, which is why we chose this vent for our next move under Plan B’s assumption that Goodwin’s ruse wouldn’t succeed, though at her current height, she’s finding difficulty in prying it open.

                “Oh come on.  For a goddess, you’re sure having a hard time with a little pair of runts, aren’t you?” Brian taunts with his hands on his hips, and I can tell he’s getting some serious catharsis from directly taunting the murderer of his sister and lover without fear of reprisal.  “I’m starting to question your whole title, you know?”

                She doesn’t offer a response, but instead kicks uselessly at the grate and repeats the guttural noise, probably giving herself a bruise in the process.  Her other hand is busy rubbing gingerly at the definitely-bleeding line of crimson across her stomach.  My eyes dart to the blackness behind us, instantly spying a hole that leads into Goodwin’s insulation path, where Julia couldn’t possibly follow us.  Easy in, although we were planning on Julia being able to break through the grate by now and give chase, allowing us more space to work with.  Ironically, our absolute safety right now thanks to the partial aid of the PMRD is starting to present a risk to the whole riskily cobbled Plan B.

                It’ll be all right.  We just need to keep her mad so she can’t think for too long.  That’s all.

                Rolling through my options faster than I can process them, I open my mouth to speak again, but before I can get a word out, Julia slams her fist into the vent hard enough that the clank actually silences me.

                “That’s it!” Julia hisses, wheezing for another infuriated gasp as she slides her now-bloodstained palm across her torso to wipe it away, though she only succeeds in spreading it further like war paint.  I watch through the grate as a single bead of dark blood trickles its way down her pale flesh and onto her thigh.  “I don’t need to do this anymore.  You’re just going to come to me.”

                I chuckle as condescendingly as I can manage, trying not to let my renewed anxiety show as the sticky bead of blood travels along her calf.  I realize her voice is beginning to calm down again into its usual slithering whisper, indicating she’s probably fighting her way back into that maniacal sense of logic that’s allowed her to stay ten steps ahead of everyone she’s ever known.  We can’t let that happen.

                “Stalling me won’t do much for you when I’m using Baby Julia’s head to pull the screw off to get you,” Julia comments with a quicksilver cool that once again catches me off-guard.  Giving the grate one last shove, she turns away, abandoning the attempt to get us, exploiting the weakness in our plan without even knowing it.  Brian’s not going to last long under this kind of pressure, especially as Julia begins limping rapidly back toward her bedroom, where Goodwin is probably still in the act of rappelling Gina and Faith down to Kelly from the towering bed so they can make a break for the wall.

                “Minute and ten left,” Brian drawls in the same tone I recognize from the previous day.

                The words of a man about to take his last stroll.

                Instantly I know what he’s thinking, and what’s worse, I know I can’t stop him.  Time for an improvised Plan C.  I poke my head out the opening of the grate to maximize my volume.

                “HEY!  Is that all you have, babe?  Don’t leave us hanging!” I roar at Julia in a desperate bid to give Brian other options, and as I suspected it would, my cry goes ignored as the wounded creature of a sixteen-year-old maniac stalks further away.  She’s already pushed us out of her mind again, and knows precisely where to strike to hurt us now.

                “She’s going back in,” Brian says, the determination overcoming the awareness of his fragile mortality.  “We need more time.”

                I can tell he’s already made up his mind.  Julia’s successfully turned the tide on us.  The both of us are scrambling back through the vent, into the vulnerable kill box of the ornate upstairs hallway.  I know she heard us emerge, but even now she doesn’t turn.  If anything, she speeds up.  A set-up if I ever saw one.

                “No,” Brian grunts, bracing his weary legs against the ground in preparation for this final push.  His voice has become airily ethereal, as though he’s begun the process of shifting to a new plane of existence post-thrashing.  “She took them all away from me.  Not again.  Not this time.”

                “Please.  Don’t.  W-We can j-j-” I beg uselessly as he takes off running after Julia.

                It’s no use.

                She’s already ensnared him.

                I witness helplessly as Brian catches up to the foot-tall leviathan, tackling her right leg and wrapping himself like a tumor around her limb.  As I’d anticipated, she momentarily stumbles but is still fully prepared for this gesture from the aggrieved new father.  She pivots, dropping to a crouch immediately and planting her knee directly against the man’s chest before he can have a prayer of dodging the retaliation.

                Glancing back to me with a demonic glint in her stormy eyes, Julia winsomely regards her easily subdued victim as she cracks her powerful fist across Brian’s face.

I’m rooted powerlessly to the ground as Julia’s fist lands a blow on Brian’s head that rattles my own bones from ten feet away.  It takes just one strike for him to flop like a ragdoll, blood spurting from his shattered nose.  Unable to pull my gaze away, I feel like retching as I watch my friend pay out the grisly wages of his choice to ensure his daughter will live another day.  I know even now he doesn’t regret it.  Only just clinging to consciousness, he makes no protest as Julia stands and slings him like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder to continue back to the bedroom, barely delayed at all.

                But maybe, just maybe, delayed enough.

                “Come on, baby,” Julia says, addressing me with a beckoning wave of her free hand, still stippled with drying blood.  She’s already adapting to the madness like the animal she is.  “Let’s go play with the rest of my toys.  You don’t want to miss it, do you?”

                Dumbfounded, I crawl back into the vent as Julia saunters in the other direction, with Brian’s face leaking crimson down her back on every alternate step.  He lifts an arm as if to reach for me but doesn’t have the strength or clear vision necessary to locate me in the haze.

                I’m running in the pitch again and I’ve hardly noticed it, my feet pounding against the cold metal and my lungs pumping with more air than I should rightfully have left.  Knowing following Julia down the hallway would just earn me the same fate as Brian, I bank around the curve of the dark inner wall, bounding over a bundle of low-hanging wires and traverse a cross-section that will lead me back to her bedroom.

                Through the wall I can already hear a shriek of contempt from Julia rather than victorious jubilation, and at this I can take some shred of comfort.  Kelly and Goodwin must’ve gotten Gina and Faith out in time.  The outburst is quickly followed by more screams of rage, the pounding of feet, and then a stomach-churning slam as Brian is thrown back to the ground.

                “WHERE?” booms Julia to her victim with a volume that permeates the walls and the house itself, the word hardly distinguishable from a wail of agonized horror.  I hear another crushing strike that surely snaps another couple of Brian’s bones.  I can’t imagine he’s managed to stay awake this time.  “Where are they GOING?”

                I turn a final corner and can already see the familiar glow from the hole in Julia’s wall.  Though they’re hard to make out, two dark and slender shapes slink out of the light, kicking up the dust and only halting when the opening is too far away for vengeful hands to find them.  One of them is clutching a quietly whimpering form to her chest.

                They made it.  The extra seconds Brian bought at so high a cost were just enough.

                Scared as I am for our friend out there, elation overtakes me as I clear the final hurdle of pipes.  Locating Gina in the dark, then, I’m barely conscious of the fractional moment between recognizing each other by touch and throwing our limbs around one another.  God, she’s warm.  Embracing her feels more like heading home than any of the empty days I spent in prior years walking up the cobblestone stoop to my foster house.  It’s hard to imagine a time where we couldn’t be held like this.  We squeeze so tightly I think we might cut each other’s circulation off.

                “Are you okay?” I gasp into her ear, my chest heaving but my heart at last released of its painful strain.

                “Me?” she utters.  Her voice cracks.  “I thought y-you were going to… to… s-she had you under…”

                “I know.”

                “I can’t believe… w-what… what happ-”

                “It’s a long story,” I sigh wearily, bowing my head to her shoulder and letting her hair brush against my face to help convince me she’s here and not some cruel hallucination.  Her lips are on my cheek, planting quick delicate kisses like little raindrops from a surprise early spring shower.

                As much as I want to just melt into this moment of bittersweet serenity, though, I can’t.  Not just yet.

                “Where’s Goodwin?” I whisper to Kelly, still wrapped around Gina in a protective hold that I fully recognize as equally necessary for me.  My own eyes are involuntarily blurring with tears.

                “Still on the bed,” Kelly mutters as she cradles a quietly babbling Faith in her arms.  “H-He… he was g-going to-”

                Somehow managing to peel myself away from Gina’s arms, I scramble back to the hole in the wall, flinching at the sight of a blood-spattered Brian sprawled on the floor in the middle of the room with Julia hunched over him like a rabid grizzly bear.  Drops of red are tattooed over her cheeks, and I realize they must’ve splashed up from the sheer force of her punch.  Her fist hovers over the beaten form of Brian’s head, preparing to rain down again as punishment for his failure to answer her while unconscious.

                One more of those hits and Brian won’t be getting up ever again, but a sharp whistle breaks the silence and stops Julia’s descending hand in midair.

                “Hiya, Jules, you adorable little cunt!” a gruff voice sings from atop the bed.  “MISS me?”

                Too startled to avoid falling over onto her side, Julia gazes up to discover the haggard remains of her very first capture peering down at her from the sheets.  Flinching with the shock of someone who had witnessed a bona fide apparition, she pushes herself to her feet, staggering back several steps away from Brian to devote complete attention to the foul-mouthed revelation of Goodwin, who she more than likely had written off as eaten by cockroaches.

                “Y-You?” she coughs, too stunned to summon her normal propensity for barbaric witticism.  The return of the presumed dead, it seems, is a little much even for our psychotic schemer of a ward to handle well.  Nudging Brian aside with her foot, Julia marches back toward the bed with the resolve of a circling vulture, leaving him alone at last.

                And there’s my window, courtesy of that mad bastard of a tech wizard.

                Taking a deep breath, I know instinctively what I have to do, because it’s the same thing Brian or Kelly or Gina or Anna would do if I happened to be lying in a puddle of my own blood awaiting to be permanently put to sleep by Julia’s hand.  We’ve come too far in this silly little quest for species solidarity to leave someone behind in the final moment of truth.

                And I’ll be damned if Julia is going to be proven right about us being anything less than human.

                Bursting out into the light of the bedroom again, I bolt towards Brian.  Stomach fluttering, I propel my aching legs forward with more gusto than they’ve got left.  Suddenly from behind me I can hear the quiet gasps of panicked breaths accompanying.  It’s Gina, running alongside, her tangled hair whipping against her back.  Her hand grasps my shoulder and the pair of us pick up the pace together.  I know Kelly must be fighting back a scream at our suicidal gesture from inside the wall, but as she’s still holding Faith, she can’t stop us now.

                It’s hard to make out, but I can see Brian’s chest miraculously still managing to rise and fall, fighting to make it to the end and not leave his child an orphan after all she’s been through.  As I plant one foot in front of the other in petrified strides, I’m vaguely aware of Julia off in the distance giving up on climbing the bed and instead wrestling with the sheets hanging over the side, tugging at them until they pass to the floor in a soft avalanche of color and fluff.

                “I’m going to kill you, you know,” she drones pallidly up to him, miraculously calm in her certainty.  “I’m going to kill you, Arthur.”

                We reach Brian, my heart skipping several beats to realize what a mess Julia’s made of him.  Blackening bruises and swollen flesh dot his bloodied body.  This is probably something like Charlie looked beneath Julia’s crushing derriere moments before he took his last pungent breath of her thrusting sphincter.  Gina and I loop our arms under Brian’s elbows, cradling his head as we hobble him up to his feet.

                “THAT’S RIGHT, BITCH!” Goodwin cackles at the top of his lungs, waving his arms wildly above his head to keep Julia’s focus exclusively on him.  “COME GET ME.”

                Winding the blankets around her shoulders and arms, Julia fights to reach her most despised and probably most resilient pet, tugging hand-over-hand to pull him down from the mattress.  Encouraged by his taunting, she rapidly regresses back into the mindless murder machine of a few minutes before.  Probably not for long, but it may just be enough to let us sprint out of this bloody debacle.

                Goodwin, fully committed to this terminal gift and act of apology to us all, keeps his feet planted defiantly in the blankets as though making a final salute to his fellow POWs.  Everything tumbles down in a billowing mass of plush cotton to the floor, including the damaged PMRD with a hard clatter just behind where he lands on his back.

                Gina and I refuse to surrender the chance yet, hoisting Brian against our shoulders, but quickly realize dragging him along as we dart for safety will only finish the grim job Julia started.  As with my last race toward the paradoxical freedom of life in the absence of light, my drumming heartbeats feel like they’ve slowed to just a couple per minute.  How can we possibly move Brian without snuffing out what remains of him?

                Then we hear it.  A squelch, splattering brain and bone in a single stomp.  Another.  Another.  And another.

                I chance a glimpse over my shoulder and witness Julia’s foot rising from a mess of pulpy carnage where Goodwin’s head used to be intact.  He probably didn’t even have a chance to stand up again before she’d pounced, leaving nothing recognizable after repeated plunges of her heel into his feeble skull.  A fresh streak of blood is painted up the length of Julia’s calf from Goodwin’s neck, and in a flash she’s already moving for the PMRD with that ravenous gloss in her deadened eyes.  Julia’s not only caught up with us, but she’s determined to retake her first-place position in the game.

                And then I realize.  Even if we sprinted with Brian at a pace that could very well kill him anyway, there’s no way we’d make it back to the hole before Julia can regrow and cross the distance, enclosing us into her hands and the last sight we’ll ever experience on this earth.

                The device’s narrow barrel, coincidentally aimed for the three of us now after the violent topple from the bed, stares at me with myopic judgment.  I feel as though that heap of surreal clinking metal is putting me on trial for all my foolish dreams of grandeur.  I so wrongly assumed we could all get out of here together, ride away into the sunset, and live happily ever after, like some kind of idiotic band of cowboys.  There’s no one here to defend me for my costly decision, nor should they even if they were.  Gina, Brian, and I are marooned on a golden platter for our self-imposed goddess as she ascends back to her cloud to order in the fire and brimstone.

                With three aggressive punches into the touch screen, Julia crouches by the broken handle of the device whose faithful mechanical magic finally betrayed her, having grasped the reversal to her advantage now.  I watch helplessly as she squeezes the trigger, blasting a sputtering ray of emerald light to regrow its target to a height more befitting a human being.

                Gina’s hand finds mine and squeezes as Julia melds her body into the rattling remains of the PMRD, its clunky innards chugging out its heinous function.

                I’m expecting her to soar skyward, growing not just to her own height but beyond the reaches of this mansion, the neighborhood, and the county, until at last she can touch all she wants to own and reduce cities to rubble with a single brush of her pinky.

                I’m expecting to meet nothingness more all-encompassing than any sensory horror Julia forced me through in this hellish excuse for a life.

                I’m expecting the world to end.

                But none of that happens.  The universe remains remarkably in one piece, even as light pours from that fabled little size-changing weapon.  Julia remains just as low as she’s ever been in her life.

                That’s when I realize.

                Goodwin.  That son of a bitch did it again.

                He swapped the refraction panels in the PMRD back to the barrel which, by the grace of serendipity just good enough to make a person reconsider divine existence, happens to be pointed not at Julia, but at us.

                The blaring green beam cuts across the room, imbuing the entire space with an almost holy glow.  Air lodges in my chest as I stagger back, out of range for the ray by just a few hairs, and look into the epicenter of the emerald glare’s recipient.

                It’s Gina.  Bathed in the light, she stands with her arms extended and mouth agape, receiving the bloom.  If I blinked, I might mistake her for a rising celestial, because as the growth effect intended for Julia takes its toll instead on Gina, I watch her begin to ascend.  In a matter of fleeting seconds, as her body swells out and she returns to her full height for the first time in two years, I’m no longer staring at her face, but at the smooth instep of her bare foot, the size of a school bus to me.

                Our real-life guardian angel.

                I doubt Julia has the gumption to even make a sound as she, in a stupefied frenzy, scrambles to reset the trigger of the PMRD atop the hill of blankets and make up for her costly mistake.  But it’s too little and far, far too late.

                In a sweep of gale-force wind that nearly bowls me over, Gina is away like a shot.  She bounds across the floor, rattling books and pictures on the shelves high above with concussive impact.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the entire house quakes with her fury, imparted back to the ground each time her feet slam down with a humbling vengeance.   Julia doesn’t even get the chance to double-take before she’s enveloped in the shadow and scooped up by her neck, rising into the air well out of range of her favorite toy.

                Gina’s fist, whitening along her knuckles with what I can only describe as godlike might, compresses around the delicate cranium of the sixteen-year-old demon.                For a moment the pair just trade gazes, and I swear I can actually see the light draining from Julia’s eyes as she looks into the much-larger face of a girl she’s spent the last two years dangling into her literal worst nightmare.  The exchange loses its civility awfully quick as Gina spits a wad of phlegm into Julia’s eyes and brings her other hand up to her entrapped prey.  Squirming does nothing to protect Julia from Gina’s middle finger, braced against the pad of her thumb and flicked into the tinier teen’s quivering jaw with more than enough strength to bruise everything below Julia’s chin.  The potency of the blow swallows up whatever scream Julia might’ve conjured and forces it back down her throat like a cyanide pill.

                Flailing uselessly in the superhuman grasp of her former prisoner, her tiny hands pawing pathetically at the iron forearm, Julia sputters meekly for air as she’s slammed into the wall with enough strength that the bedroom door rattles on its hinges.  Gina rears back, breathing heavily as infinite hours of torment and torture mutate into unquenchable rage, and railroads Julia into the wall again.

                Over, and over, and over.  I hear a snap and a squeal of pain as Julia’s arm becomes a casualty to the brutal comeuppance, hanging like wet paper from her shoulder, at least snapped out of its socket if not cracked entirely through the marrow.  A few crimson beads trickle from her lips, though I can’t say if it’s because she’s spitting up blood or just chomped through her tongue.

                Our titanic savior, noting the impassioned chorus of Julia’s whimpers, shifts her grip.  Her palm slides along the foot-tall heathen’s bloodied frame, pinning her against the wall again, and fastens around the broken arm.  Renewing the assault, then, Gina slams Julia down to a bookshelf by her limb and drags her along the crowded path, sending plastic trophies and velvet jewelry cases crashing to the floor far below and, luckily, well out of range for us mere three-inch humans below.

                The demented little teen howls with fresh agony each time her body bursts through a new obstacle, the impact obviously putting new strain on her shattered arm, and once Gina pauses for a moment at the end of the shelf, shoving Julia’s cheek down against the edge, I can see the tears flowing and raining down from the shelf above.

                Behind me I hear Faith gurgling, thankfully innocent of all the grisly havoc where Kelly laid her on the carpet.  The former nursing student had sprinted out to come to Brian’s aid once the coast was clear, but I don’t tear my gaze away from Julia.  I can’t.

                Guttural growls escape Gina’s lips.  She’s held all this inside for so long, she likely can’t summon coherent words.  I find myself empathizing deeply, and I don’t even possess the cathartic scale of sovereignty she now holds over our captor.

                But it’s over now.  We made it.  A weight I’ve had lashed to my shoulders for years at last crumbles into the earth, allowing me to walk freely of Julia’s influence for the first time in what feels like a span longer than known creation rather than the two and a half years it’s actually been.  It takes a moment just to remember how to stand up straight with the knowledge that the girl can no longer lay claim to our fates, but as I watch Julia’s shrieking form discarded from the shelf with a final sweep of Gina’s hand, her limbs thrashing as she’s sacrificed to gravity, I more or less locate the correct musculature again.  Splayed out like an ashen cadaver, her eyelids sealed shut and her chocolate locks streaked with blood, Julia lies motionless on the floor.

                “Gina,” I whisper, realizing as soon as the word’s left my mouth that it probably wasn’t loud enough to register.  However, I’m proven wrong as this giantess I happen to love with all my heart swivels around, replanting her foot on the ground softly enough that I can hardly feel a tremor through the floor.  Looking down upon me with benevolent serenity in her eyes and lowering into a crouch, I now know for certain things can be all right again.

                Before I can get another sound out, the hazy imperiousness of Gina’s violent dance wears off and we’re both back by Kelly’s side, hoping for something we can do to help revive Brian.  His chest is heaving harder now as he fights his way back from the brink, and I realize our nurse-in-training placed Faith nearer to her father, allowing the infant’s fragile fist to be cradled in Brian’s palm.

                There’s no way he’ll give up now on her.

                A bracing crack to the back of my skull scatters my senses into oblivion.  My face smacks into the floor, squeezing the wind from my lungs before I even have a chance to process the fact that I’m being dragged roughly back across the floor.  A severe carpet burn sheared over my skin, I blearily gasp back to awareness to find Julia’s arm wrapped around my chest and her clawed digits pressed into my neck, fully prepared to cleave inside and pluck out my windpipe with just a few ounces of pressure.  Her warm body is clasped to mine in an embrace more intimate than we’ve ever experienced together, her heart railing so fast it just might collapse inward on itself.

                “Jack!” Gina cries, spinning back around, palms open to snatch me away from our staggering foe, but Julia quickly tucks me into her side, dodging the theft.  She’s limping backward like an injured crab on an ankle that has to be severely twisted if not powdered entirely.

                “Back… the fuck… off,” Julia snarls, and given the way her palm is fondling my neck, Gina doesn’t need to hear the threat more than once.  Squeezed against my ex-girlfriend’s breasts and smeared through her blood, I can feel the irregular pulsing of her lungs as she hacks for breath, chewing through what I can only imagine to be excruciating pain after the beat-down Gina delivered.  It’s a marvel she’s even able to stand right now.

                “It’s OVER, Julia!” Kelly croaks, rising to her feet and swiftly taking a stance between the injured father and child on the ground, clearly ready to withstand any retaliation to keep them together.  “Put him down.  Now.  You’re done.”

                “Nothing is DONE.  Not until I say it is,” Julia seethes, hobbling steadily back toward the bedroom door and wincing with every step from the pressure on her abused joints.  Gingerly she passes over the threshold of the carpet into the hallway, and already I can tell her strides are weakening.  She probably doesn’t even have the energy to reach the stairs.  Gina takes a few tentative paces closer, keeping her deadly fists lowered to the ground to avoid spooking the fractured fiend, but it clearly still sets off an alarm.

                “I said BACK OFF!” Julia yelps hoarsely, giving my neck a cloying squeeze beneath her weighty fingertips.  I cough, on the verge of choking, and watch Gina instantly retreat from her towering advance, too terrified for my safety to risk a quick draw.

                “There’s no way to get out of here, Julia,” Gina says coolly, trembling but somehow managing to keep it together for all of our sakes.  She lowers herself closer to the ground, probably hoping to reduce her visage as much as possible.  “You know that.”

                “All I know is that you can… take almost everything away from me.  And you have.  But you will never, ever take this from me,” Julia spits, hugging me closer into her bosom.  Her voice cracks, not from the pain of internal bleeding but genuine, crushing gloom.  It’s almost enough to catch me off-guard, though having her hand coiled around my throat is still earning most of my attention.

                It couldn’t be.  Could… could she actually…

                Could she actually still feel something for me?

                “No.  You’re not going to take him,” Gina informs Julia, softly, but with enough confidence to let her know it’s not merely a theory but stone-cold fact.  “I won’t let you take him away again.”

                Julia’s heart manages to pound even faster, practically punching through her chest and splattering against my back.  I’d be surprised if she’s not on the verge of cardiac arrest, but still her remaining good arm clutches me with all her leftover strength into her blood-splattered body, painted away in watery ribbons by her rapidly cascading tears.

                “What can you do, Gina?” Julia challenges wrathfully as she begins backing her way down the hall, with Gina and Kelly pursuing at a respectful pace.  Her fingernails scrape against my skin, on the verge of breaking the skin just above my Adam’s apple.  “I’ll kill him if you try to take him from me.  You know I will.  I’ll pull his little fucking neck off.”

                Her tone is exactly the same as it was in the moments before she pulverized Goodwin into a fine paste.  We all know she means it.  My eyes meet Gina’s, more scared than I’ve ever seen them.  Even with all her bravado and newfound size, even understanding that Julia will finally be brought to justice one way or another, she knows my corpse might still be a part of the equation.

                Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen very soon, probably in just a few more seconds.  I know already that someone isn’t going home from this.  And if Julia’s fingers can close any tighter around my jugular, it’ll be pretty easy to guess who.

                Wheezing for air, my vision drowning into blackness, the only way forward presents itself to me with uncommon clarity.  Delicately I let my hand pass beneath the folds of my cloth toga, ragged with panicked sweat and Julia’s leaking blood, and close my fingers around the comfortingly cold metal of the shiv Goodwin armed me with last night right before our final siege on the mad sixteen-year-old goddess.

                “You could never feel what we felt for each other,” Julia scowls to her romantic rival, bottled-up jealous rage at our tryst allowed to be chemically released all in one agonized string of syllables.  “You… you could never know him like I do…”

                “You’re right, Julia,” I whisper lovingly, instantly centering the focus of her insane universe back to my insignificant voice.  “Nobody could ever know you like I do.”

                Though her body is ravaged and on the verge of shutdown, Julia’s muscles soften around me.  She’s melted merely by the hallowed revere in my voice.  And that’s all I need.  It’s funny, but amidst the burning hatred that clings to every fiber of my being, I actually feel the smallest iota of pity for this broken teenage deity who learned to love me as more than just a toy.  In the next heartbeat I draw the shiv from beneath my rags and plunge it through Julia’s forearm, splitting her wide open.

                With a spurt of blood and ear-shredding howls, Julia’s fingers release their death clamp on my neck.  I flop out of the vice of her elbow down to her feet, knowing there’s little I can do to avoid her retribution with so little to lose now.  Sure enough, as I roll onto my side, too weak even to raise an arm in defense, a bare sole still soaked through every wrinkle with the gummy remainder of Goodwin’s brain hovers above, poised to tromp directly through my face and into the floor with a single step.

                Before I can experience the passage into nonexistence courtesy of Julia’s heel, though, I watch in a helpless daze as Gina’s far-larger foot launches through the air above my head, produced perhaps from the great beyond, and collides into Julia with such pulverizing force for a moment it seems conceivable the girl will be liquefied on the spot.

                The punt sends my ex-girlfriend soaring through the air, her ribcage almost certainly crushed in far enough to pierce a majority of her vital organs.  For a few precious seconds, it seems she might continue on her flight path and wing into the clouds, but the moment is squelched just as suddenly as the sensation of being jolted awake from some overlong nightmare back into reality.  Crashing into the wall above the winding grand stairwell, her neck is snapped like the stem of a flower, sending the bloodied pile of twisted limbs once known as Julia Mack tumbling down the stairs and to the tile below, where she lands in heap more silent than even the most reserved grave.

                Too shocked to move or even begin trying to comprehend the way the world has just opened itself up again to us all, I remain on the ground, hardly aware of my body until I feel Gina’s soft fingers scooping gently around my sides, collecting me into her warm, cupped hands and raising me into the light.              

6 months later…

                Well, I guess this is what it feels like to be alive.  And I don’t just mean being able to pump oxygen through your lungs and have blood coursing through your veins at the right intervals.  Anyone can do that.

                Hell, maybe I don’t really know what it is I mean.  Technically, I’d say I’ve only been “living” for half a year now.  I’ve probably still got some growing up to do.  By legal standards, I’ve only recently become an adult, but it feels like I’ve grown very old in a short slice of my time on the planet.  There’s plenty to learn about still, now that I’m back in the world, though I doubt I’ll be able to handle doing any of it seated at a desk, at least not for a while.  I have a feeling I’m bound to hold a personal grudge against classrooms for the rest of my natural existence.

                Now, for me and my friends, at least, living is just rediscovering what it means to be allowed to feel joy without the fear of it being swiped away in the next instant.  But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.

                After Gina had gathered Julia’s body back up and used her to open up the PMRD’s ID scanner, allowing all of us to rise back to the heights we had stolen from us so long ago, the mood was dampened a bit by the realization that Brian was probably on his last legs, lying in a pool of blood and choking for air.  But damn it if he wasn’t persistent, especially when he had Faith lying right by his side, blinking at him with wide-eyed wonderment.  Kelly did what she could to keep him in the land of the living until the EMTs showed up.  To hear them tell it, he probably wouldn’t have made it without her, so I guess she ought to get as much credit for her medical knowledge as he does for his stubbornness.

                There was plenty to be explained, and we knew that.  It was something the remaining four of us who could comprehend the situation were fully prepared to face, as long as it was together.  Once we were cleaned and patched up in a fit enough state to walk and talk, they had us hauled into the police station for a series of conversations almost as grueling as some of Julia’s longer lectures about the difference between mitosis and meiosis.

                Okay, maybe not that grueling.  Still, we had a lot of support in the physical evidence.  Goodwin’s modified PMRD was the literal smoking gun.

                Things didn’t go over very well with Julia’s parents, if that wasn’t easy to guess.  Gene and Barbara Mack already had the twin barrels of law and order squared at our skulls with the promise of consequences of biblical proportions if we ousted their sweet and innocent victim of a daughter in the public eye, though unsurprisingly, this threat didn’t really deter us.  Somehow, after you’ve spent several years watching your friends get murdered before your eyes by a psychotic teen, everything else in the world, the American justice system included, looks far less sinister.

                Of course, the problem ended up being solved for us before we even had to go up in arms.  Both the Macks were taken into custody themselves and placed under investigation for their supposed lack of knowledge of their child’s especially homicidal hobbies, along with the poor oblivious maid.  The people Brian, Kelly, Gina, and myself found ourselves facing next weren’t boys in blue and badges but men in gray suits with fancy business cards and tape recorders.  This is where all of Goodwin’s madman ramblings were made abundantly nonfictional.

                I can’t profess to understand everything about the world out there yet.  Like I said, I’m just barely eighteen, and I’ve spent a long time stuck in a girl’s dollhouse wondering whether I’ll be sexed up or executed on that particular day, so my words really ought to be taken with a grain of salt.  All I know is the four of us, plus Faith, had walked through hell and back more than once, and we’d learned when to pick our battles, and more specifically, when to back down so we’d live to fight another day.  Which is exactly what we did when Techilogic’s people came in to make sure we didn’t turn into liabilities.

                And since Goodwin did prove to be a man of his word on more than a few life-saving occasions, we opted to take his word for the invisible threat and just roll with Techilogic’s whims for the time being.  What it boiled down to was a couple of smiling company representatives wanting to ensure we understood justice would be served for those who lost their lives to Julia, but that it was best for all involved if we didn’t make a scene out of it all.  Against our better judgment, we agreed.  For now.

                It’s not all bad.  To help make sure we keep quiet about the more sordid details of our time in Julia’s bedroom, they’re agreeing to become our personal wallets in a perfectly legal but probably not entirely ethically sound arrangement.  Whatever.  If it keeps us on their good side for the time being, at least until we’re back on our feet, that’s enough for us.

                Hearing from my foster parents was a strange experience, to say the least.  They'd moved across the country just last year after the stress of tracking me down had worn them down into a state of aggrieved acceptance.  It took several minutes of convincing them over the phone that my voice was my own and not a highly sarcastic ghost’s, even though they’d been talked through the phenomenon of my return by local authorities.  When they finally arrived back in town to see me, I found myself more willing to throw a hug around each of them than I would’ve ever thought possible.  These people I once felt were strangers were… well, still strangers, but strangers I now understood only ever wanted good things for me.  I have to remind myself to thank them for that more often.  That’s one of the things I’ve learned in this new life.

                After about a month apart and plenty of Techilogic-appointed therapy, the survivors of Camp Julia found ourselves pulled back together.  It started out with lengthy midnight phone calls and weekly meetings for coffee, but eventually we all came to realize that all the support we needed in the wake of it all wasn’t going to come from just the occasional rendezvous.  I guess living out in the “real” world is a little tougher than any of us were expecting after being removed from reality for so long.  So, after a lot of jumbled emotions from parents and crisscrossing rent agreements, we’ve all shacked up together in a cozy little townhouse.  Brian and his daughter, Kelly, Gina, and I, couldn’t be more grateful to share a space that isn’t made of plastic, thanks to Techilogic’s cushy checks.  There are plenty of visits back home to family still struggling to believe their love ones have come back from the dead, but when it comes to moving forward, this is what we all need right now.  A way to ease out of the darkness and into something more familiar and friendly.  A transition.

                Brian moved on to crutches just a week ago after a bevy of Techilogic-sponsored surgeries.  He still can’t walk and carry Faith at the same time, of course, but it’s a damned good motivator to get him up and moving.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s getting around entirely on his own in another six months.  The man’s a machine.  He connected with Anna’s family in some ways that were probably a little awkward to explain, and though her parents won’t get their daughter back, having Faith there just might be able to ease the wounds with enough time.  With an entire album’s worth of Anna’s photos posted around the bedroom Brian keeps with Faith to make sure she sleeps through the night, that baby will grow up understanding exactly the kind of person her mother was.

                Kelly moved back into her nursing training almost immediately after we got the townhouse.  I guess the work keeps her mind occupied, which is something we all need in order to keep from spinning our wheels in the same place.  It would’ve been a waste for someone has naturally talented as her to give it up in the face of life-changing trauma.  In fact, from what I’ve heard, she’s already considering shifting gears and heading for medical school.  Whatever she does, I know she’ll be an incredible gift for many more people than she’s already healed.

                My time with Gina has been something else akin to floating on a cloud.  It’s an unbelievable relief to find myself in a dream where we’re wrapped around each other, only to awaken and find her lying there beside me, still safely within arm’s reach.  She’ll probably help me learn the most of all about myself, and she doesn’t even have the self-appointed academia Julia had.

                Of course, we didn’t allow Techilogic to rob us of our final respects to those we love.  Kelly and I, the most physically able after all the hysteria in Julia’s house, found one last use for our talents as living shadows and managed to make off with extracted items from the Mack household, namely Goodwin’s remains and a decorated pink shoebox containing Anna’s body preserved in a makeshift coffin, lovingly set on a bed of plucked flowers that had begun to wilt after so much time.  I suppose nobody could’ve accused Julia of not loving us all in her own fucked-up way.

                So, under cover of darkness in a location far enough removed from our home, we held a private funeral for those we lost.  Anna and Goodwin’s bodies we buried at the bottom of a hill in a nature reserve, and for Beth we created a headstone to sit beside the others.  I know none of us could’ve made it through that hour if we hadn’t clung onto one another’s hands for the entirety of the starlit service, mumbling through farewells infused with love and more pain than any of us could express in words.  We took turns holding Faith as we bid our last goodbyes, and she remained oddly quiet, never drifting into sleep but simply observing us all with those beautiful silver eyes of hers.  For an infant, I think she must comprehend much more about the world than we can see now.  I’m sure she’ll have plenty to teach me as well once she’s old enough to speak.

                I can’t say it’ll be smooth sailing forever, with Techilogic peeking over our shoulders, but should that ever change, I think I can count on these people to have my back.  We brought down an insane bloodthirsty hypersexual teenage goddess, so a bunch of talking suits shouldn’t be so bad.  This, I suppose, is where I’ve ended up now.  It’s not the place I would’ve expected to be three years ago, and even less the place I would’ve expected to be six months ago, but with the people nearby who’ve become closer than any family I could’ve ever asked for, it’s more than enough for now.