Samara gritted her teeth, jumping as high as she could. She was starving. Hanging just out of reach was a blueberry slathered in maple syrup, roughly the size of a beach ball.
"Come on, Sammy! You almost got it!" A bubbly giggle came from above.
Fuck you. It took all Samara's restraint not to say it out loud. She squatted low and put her whole body into the next jump. Just before her fingertips grazed the berry, the much larger ones dangling it pulled her would-be breakfast even higher. Samara let out a frustrated yell as it soared away. To add insult to injury (or would it be injury to insult?) she twisted her ankle on the landing and fell hard on the table.
"Oof. Too slow, Sammy." Marie said with condescending sympathy. Samara bit back a curse. She hated that nickname. She scowled, though Marie always said she was cutest when she was mad. Her stomach growled as she watched the giant blonde lift blueberry up to her mouth, past an obnoxiously vast chest. She popped it between her plump lips, which smiled lovingly at Samara's gloomy expression.
"Marie, stop teasing her. The poor little thing is probably starved." For once, Samara was happy to hear Raquel's commanding voice.
"I wasn't teasing her, Mom!" Marie stroked the inch-high girl with a sticky finger tip. "We were just playing…"
"Mhm…" Raquel looked down at Samara with pitying green eyes, a shade her daughter had inherited. She speared a blueberry from her own mountain of pancakes. Samara winced as the gigantic woman stretched her fork across the table to offer it. From her perspective, it looked like Raquel was reaching to scoop her up. "Here you go, dear."
Trying not to look too eager, Samara walked over quickly to accept the berry. It took an annoying amount of effort to pull it off the tine of the fork. "Thank you…" She mumbled before tearing in.
"What was that?" Raquel leaned forward, brushing a lock of brown hair behind her ear.
"Thank you!" Samara shouted to be heard and cringed. Even to her own ears, that sounded like a squeak. She was instantly hit with a tidal wave of cooing adoration from mother and daughter alike. All she could do was try and ignore it, burying her face into the blueberry.
This was what Samara's existence had become over the last three months and she despised it. Before that she'd had a relatively normal life. Her parents were solidly middle-class, not rich by any means but financially stable. That was until disaster quite literally struck. Their house, the home they'd lived in all her twenty years, burned down in a lightning storm. It didn't take long after that for the family to fall below the poverty line for diminishment. After a brief stay in a local pet store, she'd been "generously taken in" by Raquel and Marie.
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