Snippet #1800366

Justin's face screwed up in sorrow as he let go of the window sill. Night had already given the world a coat of dew. And for anyone who says it's a beautiful thing, they're just ignorant. In fact, night and dawn's dew, it was really like piss. It was wet, slippery, and if it got the wrong things wet, it stank to high heaven. Unfortunately, his window sill was one of those things, and now his fingers reeked. As he hugged himself to keep warm, he glanced up at his window, almost hesitant to leave, but he shook his head.

"So... 'Straighten up, or get out'," Justin repeated, walking away. "Well, what lovely options, Dad."

He deliberated on whether to go through the gate or go over it, but suddenly- Person, bam, right behind him! Whirling around, Justin squeaked, feeling calloused hands wrap around his upper arms. He started to hyperventilate, wiggling his body like a dying carp and bucking his head back. Then, for a moment, all his struggles stopped. He didn't breathe, just stared at the man who had grabbed him.

"Wait, wait, wait! Did I just... squeak?" His whisper fell onto seemingly deaf ears, but the man's face twisted into a small sneer.

"HEY!" Justin cried out, resuming his struggles, resuming his pathetic games. "Ow! Hey! HEL-"

"Shut it, Squeakers." The man snarled in his ear, moving one hand to Justin's mouth. Scared, he whimpered degradingly- (Wow, redundancy) - and succumbed to unconscious.

Cliche aside, he couldn't remember anything after that point. Obviously, his brain had edited his memories, as all brains were wanton to do. He smiled gently, though a bit ruefully. His father - or rather his father's patients - had taught him all about that. Really, it wasn't an invasion of privacy. Well, he didn't like to think of it like that, so he didn't.

Instead, he glanced around. Where was he? And where's the jerk who got me into this?!