“Hey, Junebug!” My older sister April beams. It’s the first thing I hear, loud, booming, commanding. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She practically gets off on it.

I force myself awake, sliding my feet off my makeshift bed, and I look up to see my sister’s smiling face hanging over my room, a drawer on the side of her bed. Every time she does it, I find myself staring at her sharp canines. I don’t even know why—I just do.

Without any sort of warning she scoops me up in her fleshy hand, giving me no time to change or even mentally prepare for anything. I feel her thumb knead into my back, and we both know she’s exercising her power over me. It’s better if I don’t call her out on it. Believe me, I’ve tried.

April looks down at me, smiling sweetly as she drops me on her bed. She removes her necklace, dropping it right next to me. I hate that stupid cage since it resembles a rustic cylindrical birdcage, a not so subtle way of insisting that I’m nothing more than a pet.

“Here, go inside while I brush my teeth, Junebug.” April orders. God, I hate that nickname. Once again, It’s better if I don’t mention it.

At least I’m with April today. I don’t think I could handle spending my “quality time” with my other sister. The last thing I need today is to be trapped under May’s foot.

And before you ask, yes, my oldest sister’s name is April, I have another older sister named May, and my name is June—well Juniper. My mom thought it was cute, go figure.

Reluctantly, I climb inside the cage, fearing April asking the question again. I lock it behind me, knowing it was better for my sake. I lost count how many times I forgot to lock it and fell into April’s bra. I know for sure I locked it the last time though.

I swear I have a heart attack every time I see April come out the bathroom. Her dark brown hair is wet, and her eyes are wide and alert. I hate that cheeky little smirk she has whenever I obey her without protest.

She reaches towards me, and I stare helplessly at her long fingernails, her pink nail polish chipped and faded. As always she grasps the gold chain, and I skyrocket upwards at a flick of her wrist, whipping back and forth against the metal bars. Luckily for me, there’s barely any room to be tossed around enough to break something. Bruising is another story.

The worst part is, she knows she’s hurting me, but she keeps it under a lightly veiled façade of “for your protection, Junebug.”

At least May is straightforward about her torture.

I keep forgetting that the chain is long, and I always remember right as I’m dropped directly between my sister’s breasts. I swear she cares more about her tits than she does about me, giving them the cute little nicknames Alpha and Omega, which is on the level of immature as frat boy describing his muscles.

They’re not a bad pair… but don’t tell her I said that.

She wore a v-neck, brandishing me out in the open for everyone to see. I’m an accessory first, sister last, and probably a stress reliever in between.

I'm along for the ride, attached to her body as she makes her towards May's room. I wince a little as April knocks against the door. And within seconds, I see my other sister groggily step out the room, still dressed in her pajamas.

Yawning, May simply brushes away the loose black hairs from her face and back into her bob. She doesn't acknowledge my existence even though we just made eye contact. I'm practically dead to her if I'm not under her feet.

"What?" May asks, nearly scoffing.

"You have got to stop waking up at noon."

"Yeah, yeah." May hums dismissively, patting April's back. "Just chill. It's Sunday."

May saunters off into the bathroom, and I hear her mutter something under her breath, most likely directed at April.

Thankfully, the car ride is uneventful, and I can already tell she's forgetting about me. I can tell because she's singing along to radio, something she only does when she's alone.

I space out, and the next thing I know, I'm in the bookstore. Her hands surround the cage as she pins a name tag against her shirt. Today should be a breeze, I think to myself. There should also be a new shipment of books today, hopefully keeping my sister distracted before she remembers me.

It's still a half hour before the store opens, and April is already seated comfortably behind the counter, reading a book that shouldn't even be on sale yet. I sit helpless as she absentmindedly twists the cage between her thumb and pointer finger, and I get acquainted with the feeling of whiplash. It doesn't help that she licks her fingers to turn the page either, coating me in her spit.

It continues on like this for at least an hour. The only solace I get from being with April, besides not getting trampled over, is that I like to people watch. It's pretty much the only thing I can do while dangling on my sister's chest.

A teenage boy walks in. He's shifty, silent, and I can tell he's not a regular since he scans the place and makes a beeline towards the young adult section. He's not here for himself, probably here for a gift. His body language suggests he wouldn't be caught dead here, and he keeps looking over his shoulder as if anyone from his school would suddenly appear.

I catch him sneaking glances at April's chest when she's ringing him up. We make eye contact for a brief second, just enough to give him a stink eye and a quick shake of the head. Despite the brief look of shame, he doesn't make a big deal. I'm pretty sure he just doesn't want to admit to being a pervert. I’m pretty sure inch tall girls would warrant a bigger reaction.

Other than that, nothing really interesting happens. I’m able to catch up on some sleep, something virtually impossible on busier days. Nothing keeps you awake more than slamming between two massive mounds of flesh because some idiot kid can’t find the comic books.

I wake up, and I hear April talking to someone. I’m too groggy to recognize the voice, but I don’t really care. It’s probably around noon. I’m just hoping I didn’t miss lunch since I don’t think I can wait till she gets home.

I recognize the voice now. How could I even forget it? Her name is Asha Wilson, and she lives next door to me with a couple of roommates. Every once in a while, whenever April or May feel generous, I get to look out the window, and Asha is always outside gardening.

I think April and Asha were classmates at some point. They’re friends as far as I remember, and she’s been to my house before.

She doesn’t even know I’m alive. As far as the world’s concerned, Juniper Peña died two years ago at fourteen. I don’t even try to get her attention. It’s better that way from what my sisters tell me. It’s super rare for anyone to get the shrinking disease, and they all get hauled into the research labs if discovered. I’m honestly not sure if I even prefer my sisters over being dissected.

April’s ringing up two books for her, but I’m staring at Asha’s hair, long dreadlocks that reached the small of her back. She walks away after paying, and I find myself looking at her figure, lean, toned, and curvaceous.  I don’t even know why I’m looking at her like that.

Time passes, and I’m still in the cage. April stopped reading, and now she’s absentmindedly shoveling pudding into her mouth. She only seems to stop whenever someone approaches her with a question. And that’s when a young girl, around twelve or so, walks up to the counter. She’s holding a list or a reserve order or something, but April bends over the counter to get a closer look.

I swear I locked that stupid door. I know I did, but that doesn’t stop me from falling out the now open gate and into the open pudding cup. I’m screaming and flailing, calling for April’s help, but it doesn’t work. I hit the pudding, and I consider myself lucky I didn’t sprain anything.

The chocolate snack makes it hard to move. I’m planted firmly in place, and only my chest upwards is sticking out. I’m treated with the view of my sister’s giant chest hanging over me with the birdcage dangling open, almost as if it was taunting me.

She leans back over and point the girl towards the back. She sticks the plastic spoon back into the cup, missing me by a dozen or so feet. I know she saw me. I can see the corners of her lips form into a smirk as she twists the spoon in her right hand as I’m pinned under a wave of chocolate.

I’m holding my breath. I don’t know how long it will take, but I know exactly what she’s gonna do. I force myself out, pushing through the viscous muck until I see light, and sure enough, I see April’s open mouth ready to shove me inside like I’m a goddamn piece of candy. I don’t even try screaming for help. April’s got her mind made up, and there’s nothing I can do to stop her.

Her breath, although humid, is not unbearable. It still smells of cocoa, but that doesn’t lessen the situation I’m stuck in.

I hit her tongue, and I make a sick splatting sound. Her warm spit coats my face as the sludge piles on top of me.  She moans, probably to rub salt in the wound, and I’m pinned against the roof of her mouth. Her tongue is pressed against my face, and I can feel every little bump rubbing against my body.

She’s sucking on me. She’s really sucking on me. If April was unaware before, she’s definitely playing dumb now. The force hurts as it pulls on my arms and legs, and I’m tossed from one side of her mouth to another. It doesn’t take long to lose my sense of direction as I’m knocked senselessly against her cheeks or pinned underneath the all encompassing muscle.

Everything’s still for a brief moment, and It’s hard to catch my breath while sitting in a pool of spit. Screaming, I slam my fists against her tongue, hoping she’d cut the crap and let me out.

Before I even know it, I’m sitting on April’s palm, cold, confused, angry. She’s looking down at me with a false expression of sympathy.

“Juniper!” April shouts, raising her voice an octave. “I swear I didn’t see you fall in.”

She’s hamming it up. She doesn’t care. No one’s even in sight from what I can tell. I just tune her out as she makes a promise to make up for what happened. We both know it’s an outright lie; it’s just better I don’t call her out on it.

April cups me in her hand, keeping me held and hidden until she walks into the bathroom. Unceremoniously, she drops me into the sink, and I’m staring up at her as she places her hand on the faucet.

The water’s cold but definitely more preferable than April’s spit. Her soap coated hands grab me by surprise, rubbing me in between them with little effort.

“Don’t look at me like that, Junebug.” April speaks up. “It was an accident. Plus, I’m pretty sure you had a dream about a world made of chocolate once. I know I have.”

I want to scream, and if I could open my mouth without swallowing water and soap, I would. It’s just better if I don’t. Instead, I just stand there, motionless, letting April clean me off.  

April holds me in her hand as she dries me off with a coarse paper towel. Playfully, she plants a kiss on my head, nearly burying my face between her plush lips, reminding me where I’ve been.  She pecks at me again right before I’m placed back into the birdcage.

I can tell she’s upset with me, like it’s somehow my fault. I just sit there and bide my time, waiting for April to get off of work. I don’t mind the cold shoulder actually. It’s pretty much the least damaging thing she could do.

The day goes by quietly from that incident, and after work April leaves me on my own to kill the afternoon, which I spend staring out the window. There’s still light out, and I could even see Asha tending to her garden.

She’s walking around, wearing dirty overalls, kneeling over to pluck weeds or trim certain flowers. She looks happy and at peace while she’s out there, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have her as a sister.

It’s therapeutic, and it definitely helps keep me calm as mentally I brace myself for my day with May.