Moonlight filtered through the curtains. I stared at it, the light casting eerie shadows over Thomas's sleeping form. He turned sideways in his sleep to face me and I reeled back in surprise only to hit the glass wall of my jar painfully. He didn't stir though, and blasted a loud snore.

It was just past midnight, according to the digital clock beside the jar. The house was silent, apart from Thomas's hollow snores, but I couldn't get to sleep. The glass of my tiny prison was cold as ice and I shivered when I rested my head against it. Funny that I wasn't used to being in a jar after two months without my brother. I'd reached the point where I realized how much easier it'd be for my family without having me to care for. Mum had always appeared weary when in my presence, although I'd never truly noticed it. Maybe now, without me, she could build her and Max a new life. Maybe it was best for me to be here, with someone like Thomas. It scared me just how easily I'd come to accept my fate.

Sleep found me eventually, and I settled onto the glass, my feeble body heat warming the surface. I woke before the sun rose, finding to my surprise that Thomas had his bedside lamp on and was reading, though without his familiar ear buds in. He didn't notice that I was in fact awake, so I lay there, watching him. He seemed so relaxed, and it was beyond weird to see him without a frown on his face. His sandy hair was sticking out at odd angles and he was wearing a blue shirt and boxer shorts. I rested my head on my hands, deciding to make my presence known while he was in a somewhat good mood.

"Morning." I called quietly. His calm facade changed so suddenly I was shocked, and he tossed the book to the floor with a thud that made me flinch.

"You're awake." He noted.

I rolled my eyes at that. "Sleep well?" I asked. His eyes shifted to my face and he wore a confused expression.

"Yes." He mumbled eventually.

"You think you could maybe put a tissue in here for me or something?" I asked. "I've got a killer backache from sleeping on a hard surface all night."

"Um... I guess." He said.

"Thanks." I grinned, watching the giant boy hop out of bed and grab a tissue from the box next to the covered birdcage. I was almost certain that he was wondering why I was being so nice to him. In all truthfulness, it was only because his awkward reactions amused me, to an extent.

"You have school today?" I asked, yawning.

"No. It's Saturday. Stop asking questions." Thomas said as he yanked the lid of the jar open and plonked a tissue on top of my head. I ignored the not so flattering action and laid it out on the base of the jar before sitting down.

"Why? You afraid to have a conversation with me?" I teased half-heartedly.

"No. I just don't want to talk." He said.

"I'm a good listener." I couldn't help but roll my eyes again at his bluntness. "It's not like I have somewhere I have to be..."

Thomas's eyes looked me up and down for a moment, and he sighed. "I've been thinking a lot lately." He said, settling back down into his bed with his hands behind his head.

"What about?" I asked.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it abruptly, shaking his head in obvious bewilderment.

"I can't believe I'm talking to you. Just shut up!"

"It's not gonna kill you to talk!" I actually laughed at his downright rejection. I lay on my back on the tissue with my feet propped upwards on the jar's side. "You know, about yesterday..." I began.

"If you think you can sweet talk me into letting you out..."

"No... I wanted to apologise." I sighed. "I know it must be hard for you and your mum. Believe me. If anyone understands, it's me."

Thomas only hung his head. "You shouldn't talk to me. You're going to make me pity you! For Christ's sakes that is not what I want to do." He said, irritated.

I looked at him curiously from the desk, still on my four month long quest to figure the guy out. "You don't have to pity me. I honestly don't give a shit." I said.

"Obviously not, thinking back to what you did yesterday."

 "It's not like you would care if you killed me!" I snapped, and a sigh escaped his lips, fogging up the glass of my jar.

"I would, Amy." His voice wavered. "I'm not a killer. I wouldn't kill you."

I snorted. "Alright, so you're not a killer then. But you are an torturer. And why? Because you can't lose this stupid grudge of yours..." Thomas squeezed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths at my words, so naturally, I continued.

"You think you can just tell yourself that this is normal? That taking people away from their families is just what humans do? You need to wake up, Thomas. James and Ab are nine! Nine years old! And living in what; a birdcage!"

"YOU DON'T GET IT!" He blurted, voice rising in anger. And no: I don't need to describe the pain that went through my ears anymore, since I have done it multiple times already.

"Oh my god Thomas! That's what you always say! But I kind of do get it, seeing as you don't let any of us 'shrunken' forget!" My ears were ringing, not only from his shouts but from my own rage. I spat out the word 'shrunken' like it was poison in my mouth.

Thomas waved his hand, as if to silence me. "I'm used to you all yelling insults at me. Not gonna change my mind."

"I'm not trying to make you change your mind!" I said hotly, causing the guy to throw up his hands in exasperation.

 "I can't believe I'm even arguing with you when you are a tenth my size! I could just squish you like..."

"A bug? I know! I get that a lot!" I snarled. Thomas smashed his fist into his palm to imitate squishing a bug, and I felt hot tears trickling down my cheeks, fuelled by anger.

"Aww. Now I have to comfort the bug!" He cooed, chuckling. The giant stood up, and I refused to look at him as he made for the bedroom door. "Bye, bye bug!" Thomas called out as he left the room. The door slammed and I was left in silence, with only the sounds of my own sniffles to soothe me.

*****

Why am I pitying her? She's exactly like the others; responsible for all the grief the press gave my mother. Responsible for putting her in jail and leaving her there permanently. I couldn't bring myself to even think that she was innocent, that she didn't deserve this. Because she did; they all did.

 Well, now I was sure she hated me, at least. Hell- I'd left the girl crying in a glass jar. Who wouldn't be sad? I didn't know what to say to her, when she'd spoken to me earlier. All I could scramble from my brain were insults. It made me wonder just how long she'd been awake staring at me before she'd started our... disappointing conversation. I almost admired the way she'd talked to me; as easily as talking to a family friend. With hatred dripping off her tone or course, but without hesitation of fear.

Maybe I was wrong when I'd figured her spirit had been singed all of those months ago, when she'd ignored me completely. But it still flared inside her. Amy had held on far longer than the other shrunken, and it had been almost scary to see her conversing to me like I was a friend, rather than the person responsible for ruining her life. She'd insulted me in front of the shrunken and all I could think about then was squishing her and smearing her toothpick bones all over my window. She was an evil creature, destined to be killed.

What am I saying? I furrowed my brow in confusion as I made for the bedroom door.

I must be mad.

If the girl didn't hate me now, I honestly don't know what would make her. She had such a strong capacity for pain, and it worried the hell out of me. Why was she different to the others in that sense? What had she done during her life to be able to pull through several broken bones like they were bandaids ready to rip off.

I leant against the door I'd just slammed and put my hands to my temples wearily. I wondered what my mother would think of this- torturing and imprisoning shrunken for the sake of her. She wouldn't speak to me; I know that much. She'd be just like Marcus, a friend destroyed, burnt to ashes in a mental war. Her body would be present with me, but in her mind there would be doubt. Anger.

Horror.

But what could I do? I couldn't just get all the shrunken and take them home and make everything better. The chances were that I'd be sent straight to prison with mum or worse, given the death sentence. Besides; Marcus's family, so I'd heard, had moved away when he disappeared. Ebony's parents had been killed in a car crash. And Amy's mum... Amy had said that she'd wrecked her own family just by being there.

They wouldn't believe me if I said that I'd had a change of heart. Marcus would snort and tell me to get a life. Russel would swear at me and demand for his teenage years back. I don't even know what Amy would think anymore. Why should I let one new shrunken change my mind? She was just like the rest; manipulative and cruel.

Was she?

I didn't even know anymore. All I could do was feed them, give them living utensils and stay the hell out of their way.