“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.