It was a huge milestone of scientific and technological advancement. (Plus, at the time, politically significant). Humanity went to space! We set foot on a celestial body that was not earth for the first time in human history! That’s a big deal! I’ve never thought about it before but now that I have, it’s ridiculous to me that that’s not part of our everyday lives and the public consciousness anymore. Why don’t we have a public holiday and a family barbecue about it. Why have I never seen the original broadcast of the moon landing? It should be all over the news every year!
It’s July 20th. That’s the day of the moon landing. Next year is going to be the 54th anniversary. I’m ordering astronaut shaped cookie cutters on Etsy and I’m going to have a goddamn potluck. You’re all invited.
This is a scheduled post for two days before the anniversary of the moon landing. Please get your moon themed items and foods sorted now in anticipation.
The first night out on his own was an absolute terror. Parker had kept up his pace and walked longer than he anticipated, leaving no time to make a well-protected camp. He had managed to find some loose roots of a nearby tree and had wiggled in between the tangle of wood.
He curled up in the cloak he kept from Kers and wrapped it around him tightly as he gazed up at the tangled branches above him which blocked out part of the night sky. Parker had hoped that his senses would ease and that he would readjust his reality to all of the new things he was now hyperaware of. Evidently, it wasn’t something that he could turn on and off like a light switch.
Every twitch or scurry of the insects just outside of the roots woke Parker up from his attempt at sleep. A few large creatures that looked like racoons walked directly over him, plunging him into darkness. Parker had never experienced fear like this before, and it didn’t stop while he was awake.
His nightmares returned more visceral and intense than ever.
The dream that plagued him was of hushed voices all talking behind his back. Looming shadows laughed as they pointed at him. They echoed all around him, making him feel smaller and smaller until he was just a speck on the ground. Some shadowy figure grabbed his hand and pulled him into an embrace, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying.
The dream shifted into screams. Someone was being pulled away while that same shadowy figure shielded Parker with her body. She was sobbing as she held onto Parker. He could barely make out the words when, like a whisp of smoke, they were gone and once again Parker saw water all around him.
Choking water splashed him in the face and drenched him. The deathly tight grip on him slipped. Parker remembered sobbing and shouting, but when he opened his mouth, water filled his lungs.
“Hang on!” he heard the female voice shout as he felt himself tumbling weightless and unable to breathe. He looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of fading figures drifting away on the water as he barely made out the features of the woman who was holding onto him. “No! No! We have to go back!”
“It’s too late!” someone else shouted as the figures vanished into the darkness. Lightning lit up the sky and Parker found himself alone as rain pummeled him further and further into the mud.
Parker gasped and lunged upward, absolutely drenched; however, it wasn’t just his sweat that had him completely soaked. Rain dripped in through the branches above him and had partially filled his hiding place with water. It was flooding fast.
Parker wriggled free and pried himself and his pack out of the branches as his hair stuck to his forehead. He tried to wipe away the mud and grime, but it did little good considering he was filthy.
At least I have water now. Parker thought as he opened his container and pressed it against a nearby leaf. His container filled and he continued his journey. Trudging through the mud which came up to his knees was more of a challenge than Parker thought. It was so bad that he actually considered walking on the sidewalk, at least for a little while.
There were few cars out and no one was out and about, meaning he would be relatively safe walking close to the sidewalk again. So, that’s what he did.
Parker hoisted himself up onto the pavement and trudged forward. He stopped frequently to drink from the rain to keep his water supply at maximum, but he found no shelter from the relentless rain that varied from pouring down massive drops to barely drizzling.
Still, Parker pursued his goals. He couldn’t stop now. He refused to stop.
By the time it was starting to get dark, however, the fire was going out of him. Cold. Wet. All alone. Parker was starting to consider that he may not be able to do this all on his own, but he was too far away now.
The young teen’s mind wondered what his mom was doing at that moment. Was she looking for him? Was she angry with him? Did she ever want to see him again? Or was she safely snuggled in her warm bed reading a book or listening to the next episode of their shared podcast glad that he was gone?
The thought brought tears to Parker’s eyes.
As he walked on, he noticed an old boot discarded on the edge of the road tucked into some brush and decided it was as good of a place as any to sleep. At least it was covered unlike his place among the roots the night before.
The smell was an atrocious one, but the little warmth Parker was able to gain from the narrow walls of the leather around him made him the slightest bit grateful. He curled in on himself as he hunkered down under the cloak he borrowed from Kers and chewed on some wet cracker.
Remorse mixed with his anger, and both turned inward toward him.
I said such horrible things to her. I hurt her. I hurt my mom.
“No! She’s not your mom,” he spat aloud as he pulled his legs to his chest while staying huddled under the cloak.
Yes. She is. You know that. She was just trying to do what was best for you. She didn’t know the answers. It was an honest mistake.
“She lied! She should’ve told me. If she loved me, she would’ve told me. She would’ve told me. She… she should have…” Parker choked on his sob and curled in tighter. He wanted this waking nightmare to end. His pursuit of the truth put him here, and he was going to see it through to the end. He just wished he didn’t have to hurt like this.
Nightmares were waiting for him as he finally drifted off to sleep from pure exhaustion. It was a lot of the same images, but the faces seemed more familiar and more pronounced. Whether it was because his brain was overcharged with information or these things were being pulled from somewhere in his brain, he wasn’t sure.
What Parker did know was that he would be at his destination that afternoon, and it was about time.
When he woke up, Parker saw bright sunshine highlighting every speck of rain that fell from the day before. Massive puddles were everywhere. Little streams were now roaring rivers of danger, but it didn’t stop him.
Parker dared to sprint across several roads, the sun-warmed asphalt smell invading his nostrils, as he finally recognized his old neighborhood. Parker felt relief for the first time in days, but also something else.
Nostalgia, and not from recent memories.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but as Parker was walking along the edge of the sidewalk, he glanced over at a nearby drainpipe on one of the houses and, for one reason or another, found it familiar. Lured by the faintest of memories, Parker forced his way through the yard toward the house until he made it to the pipe.
Nothing was off at first glance. It was a simple metal pipe that led up to the roof and the gutters. Parker’s discouragement immediately flipped to confused excitement as he looked behind the pipe. Right there was a small scratch mark that looked like a cartoonish drawing of a cat. There was also a piece of trim that was loose on the edges.
Parker reached out and touched the loosened trim. Somewhere in his mind, some odd memory scratched its way through some weird mental barrier and, suddenly, Parker remembered this place.
“It’s the sign of the cat. It means this place is dangerous to live in.”
“Cat?”
“Yes, a cat. That’s why we needed to leave and why we’re going someplace new. Don’t be scared, my love. You’ll be safe. We’ll protect you.”
Parker flinched away from the wall and looked at the house. He wasn’t sure who he heard, but he had an idea of who it was. The thought was enough to make him shiver all over. It was unnerving to remember something that came from seemingly nowhere.
He glanced at the building once more before walking parallel to the building. As he rounded the corner of the yellow trim house, he spotted the park. Just the sight made his insides churn uncomfortably. The Borrower teen crouched low and listened hard as he squinted his eyes.
So far, no one else was there playing on the rain soaked swings or muddy monkey bars.
Good.
It would take Parker another hour to cross the parking lot, which made his heart skip a beat every few steps. It took a few tries to jump up onto the curb and hoist himself up, but Parker finally made it. He walked along the curb, balancing like a graceful cat, and walked around the outside of the playground.
All of the smells and sights unlocked memory after memory, and most of them were with his mom. There were a few, however, that didn’t belong to his mom. Parker walked around and around before spotting the bench where his mom would always sit.
Is this the place?
Parker approached the overgrown poles supporting the bench. His heart was slowly starting to pound harder and harder. Something about forcing his way past massive blades of grass was familiar. He remembered this place, and not because of a memory he shared with his mom.
The metal pole’s base was relatively clear and gave the small boy a reprieve as he finally made his way up to it. The moment he did, however, Parker’s knees buckled at the sight.
Right there at the base of the metal support pole were more scratch marks. They were too fine and precise. It was obvious they couldn’t have been made from a human, meaning they had to be made by someone like him. It was in an awkward place where no human could reach easily. Parker’s eyes locked with the scratches, and he felt his eyes tearing up.
A tiny cross had been scratched into the plastic covering of the park bench along with a little heart with the name “ZEKE” scratched under the cross. Parker touched the scratch marks. His fingers ran over the exposed rusted pipe and the rough edged plastic. His chest clenched. It felt like he was being crushed by a smothering blanket.
Parker fell to his knees as he kept his palm pressed against the pole next to the name.
It couldn’t be anything else.
It had to be related – it had to be him.
Zeke. That was his real name; or, rather, the name his parents gave him.
Parker swallowed dryly as though he were sucking on a sponge. Already aching and dehydrated, he surprised himself when his body started to tremble and shake as tears dripped down his cheeks. A few hiccups escaped him as he wiped his eyes with the back of his filthy hand.
They were here. They came back. Someone came back and looked for me. Or… maybe… someone wanted to remember this place.
A passing cloud over the sun cast darkened shadows over him and, in a flash, another memory pulled Parker into what happened years prior. Parker turned wildly to his right as he remembered rain pouring down over him. Someone held him close.
“It’s going to be okay Zeke. Just hang onto me,” said the female voice. The whole world was rocking back and forth. Parker remembered a toy boat and that this whole area was filled with water.
“We’re off course!” someone shouted. “The water’s taking us the wrong way! Hold on!”
Parker heard other people screaming around him. They were tossed and turned from left to right. Water poured over the edges of the boat. The rims were blue. Parker winced and held onto his temple as his head swirled. He gasped for air as he remembered the next part of the memory.
“Hang on!” the female voice shouted at him. Parker remembered choking on water as he tried to breathe. He cried as the woman held him close. “It’s okay. Momma’s got you. Hang on! Hang onto me! Hang on!”
Parker remembered feeling weightless as he tried breathing and yet couldn’t. His eyes stung. His lungs burned. He was chest deep in mud and all alone. He looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of fading figures drifting away on that blue trimmed boat. The woman, with her kind brown eyes, was nearly throwing herself off of the edge of the boat. She was wailing, “No! No! No! Zeke! Zeke!”
“We can’t do anything for him now. You’ll drown if you go overboard.”
“I don’t care! We have to go back! Zeke! Let me go!”
Parker remembered calling out to the woman and trying to run, but the mud practically swallowed him as he fell face first into it. Chest deep again, he looked up to see the fading figures.
“No! No! We have to go back!”
“It’s too late! I’m sorry! He’s gone. He’s gone!” The figures vanished into the darkness as lightning illuminated the sky. Parker remembered the feeling of abandonment as rain pummeled him further and further into the mud. Parker remembered grabbing onto a nearby rock and pulling himself free. The only thing in his arms was his little toy which was attached to his belt.
He tried running down the water, but he stopped and remembered what that woman – his mom – said. If you’re lost, stay where you are. I’ll come back to find you. Stay hidden. Stay small. I’ll be back always for you, Zeke.
The rule was what made him stay. That rule was what made him hide there by the base of the pole there in the park. He wasn’t sure how long he was out there, but he did remember the looming shadow of Amanda and how loneliness and survival drove him to go with her that day.
Parker crumpled. He turned and leaned his back against the pole and let his head fall. Knees clutched to his chest, Parker stayed huddled there for what felt like hours. Emptiness filled him, but he wasn’t hungry. His entire body felt cold despite the heat of the day beating down all around him.
The humidity and the pounding in his head were the only things that prompted Parker to take a sip of water from his canteen. He swished the water around in his mouth, but it didn’t make him feel any less parched. His eyes flicked back over his shoulder at the little cross and the carved name, memorizing the scene.
The young teen didn’t know what he hoped to accomplish when he came out here. Maybe he hoped he would find someone like him who would tell him where his parents were. Maybe he would find more of a sign of them other than a simple scratched message that was as old as he was. Maybe he hoped some feeling of accomplishment would come over him now that he unlocked those nearly forgotten memories.
None of those sensations filled him.
He didn’t feel accomplished.
He didn’t feel proud.
What he did feel was alone and ashamed. He had come all the way out here, run away from home in the process, with nothing more than a note to his mom.
Yes.
His mom.
Amanda was right. She might not have given birth to him, but it didn’t change the fact that she had tended to him all this time. She made sure he had everything he needed and more. She’d taken care of him during his times of sickness. It was her who helped him study for countless tests and read to him out loud so many nights.
She was his mom.
No other face truly appeared when he thought of the word.
Does she even want you? After what you said? Will she even want to be your mom again?
He had to try.
Parker wiped away the tears and knew what he needed to do.
It was time to go home.
Parker took a few shaky breaths in and out to calm his pounding heart before forcing himself to his feet. Knees quivering under his meager weight, Parker turned back just one more to steal a glance at the marker meant for him and hoisted his bag onto his back.
“Goodbye,” he muttered.
The trek back through the weeds felt rougher leaving the park bench behind. His arms quivered as he hoisted himself back onto the curb and rolled onto the hot concrete. He walked along the top, glad not to be fighting all of the stems and grass that was bigger than him and started heading for the parking lot.
The pavement felt warm under his feet, making him quicken his pace. Parker noticed a space not too far away that was shaded and decided it would be better to walk there rather than in the blazing hot sun. He looked left and he looked right, but there was no one in sight. All he had to do to walk in the shade was cross the parking lot and start the journey home.
Parker jumped down and began jogging across the vast open space. Something about being completely out in the open was making Parker anxious, and he wasn’t about to have his good luck turn.
He was about halfway across the lot when something caught Parker’s attention. It was a low rumbling in the pavement below him. His heart was pounding faster and faster. From across the lot, a familiar looking car pulled into the vacant lot.
Sudden relief washed over him as he recognized the figure stepping out of the car.
It was his mom – Amanda.
Parker felt like he could cry he was so happy.
She… came! She came looking for me! She must want me back!
Parker looked yearningly across the parking lot. She had chosen one of the furthest spots away from the playground, which made him deflate. It was going to be quite the trek to get over to her, and Parker suspected he didn’t have a lot of time to do it.
Thankfully, she looked like she was moving slow, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground as her head moved from side to side. She was obviously scanning the ground, and she was probably watching out for him. It looked like she had something in her hand, but Parker couldn’t tell what it was.
It didn’t matter.
He had so much he wanted to say to her. There was so much that he needed to apologize for. Exhausted, Parker suddenly found a new reserve of energy he could pull from and began running across the parking lot.
“Mom! Mom!” Parker shouted at the top of his lungs. He knew he was too far away for her to hear him, but it felt good all the same. His legs pumped as fast as they could. They were still an entire parking lot away, but still he kept running.
As he did, however, Parker had a bad feeling creep up his spine.
Something – someone – was approaching.
The young teen glanced over his shoulder and, to his horror, looked around just as a figure eclipsed the sun above him. Whoever it was rode a bicycle and had stopped right beside Parker as he stumbled to the side to keep from being crushed.
Parker was used to seeing his mom towering above him, but seeing this stranger made him shake in his shoes like he had never experienced before. It was sheer terror that now drove him to run faster.
The Borrower looked around desperately for a place to hide, but he was in the middle of the lot and the only place to duck under was the bike, which was the last place Parker wanted to be.
“Woah! What are you?” It was a girl’s voice, and he sounded just a little younger than Parker. All he had to do was wheel forward a few steps and he was caught up with Parker again. Looming digits suddenly emerged from the shadowy figure way above the infinitesimal teen.
Parker didn’t even have a chance to say anything as he felt a sharp pinch on his back. His arms were suddenly drawn backward and restrained. The pavement below him vanished as Parker was suddenly suspended in mid-air. He barely managed a shout of surprise as he was suddenly brought up to the boy’s face.
The kid had countless freckles and these cold blue eyes that made the hair on the back of Parker’s neck stand on end. She had thick brown hair that hung in his face. Though lean, the kid was obviously strong; and Parker didn’t just think that because he was being held aloft by this stranger. There was a deceptive leanness to her muscles, much like Parker’s build, that undoubtedly held more strength than she knew.
Parker heaved in breath after breath as he tried fighting back against the kid’s grasp. Finally, he managed to grunt out, “Let me go! Put me down!”
“Woah!” Parker didn’t like the way the kid’s eyes widened with eager curiosity as he examined Parker. There was something almost familiar about the girl’s features, but Parker couldn’t place it. “It talks too? Are you alive?”
“Of… course… I’m… alive!” grunted Parker as he attempted to reach back and smack the kid’s fingers off of the back of his backpack, which seemed to be the thing that the kid was hanging onto to keep Parker restrained.
“No way! Dude! This is awesome!” grinned the girl. “Wait ‘til my friends see this.”
Parker felt his stomach drop.
“Wh- No! No, you can’t! My mom is over there. Can’t you just… please take me over to her?” asked Parker. That gleam returned to the kid’s eyes and she looked at Parker.
“There are more of you around?”
Parker felt his mouth dry immediately.
“N-n-no… No there’s not. That woman over there. That’s my mom!” pleaded Parker. “Please, just take me over there to her.”
The girl lackadaisically glanced at Amanda, who was still on the other side of the parking lot, and then back to him. It was obvious she didn’t believe him.
“That’s impossible stupid. You’re too tiny for her to be your mom.” Parker didn’t get another word in before the girl unscrewed a water bottle that was in a holder on her bike and began lowering Parker into it. Like a cartoon, Parker continued to struggle and keep his legs propped on the opening.
“What are you doing?!” he shrieked. “I’m a person! A real person! Just like you! Let me go!” The girl rolled her eyes and huffed as if she were frustrated and had so many more better things to do.
“Seriously? You’re just making things difficult,” she grumbled. Parker watched a gleam in the girl’s eyes as she reached down and pinched Parker’s legs together. In an instant, he was swinging upside down and was being lowered into the sparkling water bottle. She reached up and pinned his arms as he was forced headfirst into the water bottle.
“No! Stop!” Parker pleaded, but it was too late. He felt the pressure around his legs vanish as he plunged headfirst into the bottle. Thankfully, there was only about an inch of water left inside, but it didn’t stop him from hitting his head or being awkwardly scrunched into the bottom.
It took only a few seconds for Parker to be sealed away inside of the bottle. He banged furiously on the edges, trying to make as much sound as possible, but it didn’t matter. The jostling all around him could only mean one thing – the girl was riding away.
The water bounced and splashed into Parker’s eyes and nose. He gagged and coughed as he tried to keep his balance. It was pitch black all around him. Keeping his hands splayed and his arms out the whole time was the only thing he could do to keep from slamming into the walls.
He heard it.
It was faint and the rattling of the bottle and the sound of water was echoing all around him, but Parker could have sworn he heard his mom calling out for him.
“Parker! Parker!”
The sound came and went quickly, as though the girl were riding right past his mom.
“No! No! Please! Stop! Stop the bike! Mom! Mom! I’m here!” Parker shouted as he kicked furiously against the metal container, but it was no use.
He was trapped.
He was caught.
All of those warnings from the Borrower family back in his home about humans capturing Borrowers was true. So, as Parker continued to struggle, his emotions ran wild with despair and frustration as he was taken against his will to an end he couldn’t begin to imagine.
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She felt quite conflicted about this whole thing, not really sure what emotion to listen to. There was that uneasiness, maybe even annoyance still at her co-workers for putting her in this situation. They had practically forced her to create an account after months of: you should really get out there and test the waters, aren’t you tired of being single? You can’t stay alone forever. Actually, that had sort of been her plan. What was so wrong with wanting to not necessarily stay alone forever but stick to what she had? She already had a few friends, a few acquaintances, and someone that could even classify as a best friend; why change that? She had laid down her roots and didn’t see any reason to add a new plant to the garden.
Then, there was that part of her that felt the opposite. A small yet loud part of her that was excited, curious to see what could happen. It might have been biological, wasn’t that what much of love was? The biological need for a partner? She didn’t have much personal experience to go off of so she wasn’t sure. For whatever reason it may be, there was a small sense of elation when her work friend Maggie had told her that she and the other gals had put her information into a dating app and they had already found someone for her to chat with.
To be frank, Cecilia had been a bit annoyed. Why did they feel the need to tamper with her personal life? It had no impact on them outside of the cafe. Though she still humored them and showed her the app, the profile they had made for her, and a guy they had hit up.
“Seems like you could use a guy like him” one of them had joked. Cecilia had forced a laugh of uneasiness after seeing his profile. She couldn’t lie and say her heart didn’t feel warmer when looking at his picture. It was rather square, topped with brown hair that stuck up in odd places, and a rather large nose. He had a confident and elated look on his face that did intimidate her slightly.
Garret was his name, and he described himself as a free spirit, open minded person with a good eye for good food. She had realized what her friend had meant, because if Cecilia were to describe herself, free spirited would not be a term that’d come to mind, and she wasn’t sure she really needed that in her life. Her friends had clearly bought into the idea that opposites attract, which logically made no sense at all when humans are genetically more drawn to those who are similar to them, but whatever.
After some peer pressure, she sent him a message (the girls had already started messaging him and telling him that they had made this account for their friend). She had introduced herself and so did he. Days went by and she continued to chat with him. At first, she wasn’t all that determined or interested, even though her co-workers kept nagging her about it. She didn’t want to upset them, so she motivated herself by creating a mental catalog about this guy for her to fill out. This prompted her to chat by asking questions to fill in those blanks. She learned he worked in construction and had apparently sought out that job to lose weight and get in better shape which she could respect, money and health, killing two birds with one stone. Like he had said in his profile, he was quite the foodie. When she’d asked for his favorite food he couldn’t decide but offered a few answers and was also able to recall which restaurants prepared it best, most of which Cecilia had never heard of or been to.
The more she learned about him, the more interested in him she actually became. So much so that when he suggested they finally meet in person after about a month of chatting, she agreed.
Now here she was, watching the minutes tick by as she finished her shift. Everyone else had left and all there was really left to do was to close up the cafe. Garret had agreed to meet her outside after 8 and then they would decide on a place to go and pick up some food.
Cecilia found herself cleaning the same spot on the counter several times as her mind became distracted by all sorts of thoughts and worries. She had never really been on an actual date, there was one time she’d gotten donuts with a guy in middle school, but that hardly counted at that age. How was she supposed to act? They already knew each other so maybe she should just act like this isn’t the first time they’ve met, or would that be rude? Honestly, why had she thought it a good idea to have to show up in her work uniform? That can’t be normal for a first-
Every thought in her mind came to a halt when the ground beneath her feet quivered. Cecilia froze, listening. She gasped when it came again, only harsher, as if whatever was causing it was getting closer.
She shook her head, stop getting so worked up, it’s not like it’s coming over-
There was a rumbling thud as the ground continued to rhythmically shake, harsh enough to cause items on the shelves and countertops to bounce. Cecilia whimpered, ducking down behind the counter. She winced and pressed herself up against the cabinets as the floor continued to tremble and she could hear the booming footfalls.
Her heart pounded loudly in her ear as she fumbled for her phone. Had Rebecca said there was a giant customer coming to pick up an order and she had just forgotten? Surely she would have stayed behind longer if that were the case. Rebecca was one of the few of her co-workers that tended to there…. Larger guests. That woman had nerves of steel, Cecilia couldn’t help but look up to her sometimes. She couldn’t believe how calm and collected she was around them. She had told her once that there was nothing to be afraid of, that they were harmless. Bullshit. What wasn’t there to be afraid of? Massive, loud, and unpredictable. One of those things alone could set Cecilia off, but all three together?! And not to mention how destructive they could be?! There was plenty to be afraid of.
She let out a shriek as the footfalls became so violent, they were making her vibrate with the ground. Opening up her contacts, she dialed Rebecca and held the phone up to her ear praying she’d answer.
Suddenly, all became still. The only sound remaining was the humming of her phone. Cecilia gulped before ever so slowly rising from her seat to peek over the counter. Her eyes widened. Planted right outside the front doors was a pair of enormous shoes. In an instance she ducked back down behind the counter, her heart racing. It’s right outside, oh God. What if it breaks down the door? What if it rips off the roof?! What if-
“Hello? Cece?” A brief wave of relief washed over her as she heard Rebecca’s voice.
“H-hey uh-”
“Are you alright? You sound a bit shaken”
“I’m uh, I was wondering if you might have forgotten to tell me if one of… your customers was picking up an order?”
There was a pause on the other end, “I don’t remember there being any orders scheduled for after 5. Why do you ask? Did you get a call from someone?”
Cecilia forced out a weak laugh, “Ah no, but uh-” before she could finish, her phone beeped indicating someone else was calling her. She looked down and saw it was Garret. Oh no. “I’ll call you back Becky” she hung up on her co-worker and answered the other line.
“Hey Cecilia!” Garret’s deep and cheerful voice met her ears.
“Uh hi” she mumbled, her mind reeling on what to say.
“I was just calling to see where you are, you still working?”
“I uh- kind of” she answered lamely, her eyes shifting towards the door.
“Oh okay, Well I’ll be right where you said to meet waiting”
“Alright that sounds-” Cecilia froze, replaying his words in her head, “Wait, you’re where?”
There was a chuckle from the other line, “I’m right where we agreed to meet.”
Was he standing out there with that giant? Waiting for her to come out? “You’re… outside the cafe?”
“Yeah, I’m right outside that human cafe.”
Her blood ran cold. Why did he phrase it that way? Her eyes shifted towards the door before quickly snapping back to the floor, no no, it’s nothing, “Why don’t you come in and wait inside while I finish up?”
Another laugh, “Good one.”
She gulped, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, did you want me to head into the cafe across the street? Sorry, I thought you were making a joke.”
Cecilia shook her head, there’s no way, it just couldn’t be, “No I meant the Cafe closest to you”
Her heart dropped as Garret laughed again, “Okay, now I know you’re joking. Like I’d fit in there.” Cecilia’s mouth dropped, the hand holding her phone shook, “Hey, everything okay? You sound a little worried.”
She stared wide-eyed across the room. There must have been some kind of mistake, this couldn’t be happening!
I wrote this for last Halloween, but totally forgot to post it. Since it’s a bit of a fluffy g/t romance, I think I can post it for Valentines Day.
I’m a slow reader, and it took me less than 30 min.
SFW, g/t, fluffy, romance, will they won’t they.
Costume Party
My world is similar to yours, and yet very different. In my early childhood, Humans and Tinies were separate. Human’s height ranged depending on age, and genetics. Yet their smallest infants still towered over us. Similarly to humans we known as “Tinies” ranged from 3 inches to the tallest in recorded history at 7 inches. Ages ago everyone thought it was for everyone’s best interest to be separate.
Separate towns, separate land, yet with technology, we were more connected than ever. Everyone did business with everyone. Tiny teachers tutored human students. Tiny athletes would rock climb with human spotters. It got to the point where the average Human thought it was ridiculous that everything was so separate.
The year I turned 3, just a passionate little girl going through a ballerina phase, I was unaware that a proclamation was made for everyone to be able to live and work wherever they wanted. Initiatives were drafted. Agreements were written. A new chapter was about to begin. Unfortunately, most of the accommodations rested on the human’s shoulders.
Few people were against adapting the world to be Tiny accessible. Others did the bare minimum. But a large majority of businesses, residential, and retail areas were more than happy to welcome Tinies in.
The city was the first to be so easily adapted and accessible. City designers developed safe tunnels with thick graphene walls for our tiny cars. We were able to drive the same roads as humans solving transportation problems. The local College campus hosted humans and tinies alike. The academics tested and developed a large number of ways that Tiny people could safely live among humans. It was thanks to all the young energetic passionate people living, working, and learning amongst each other. No wonder it was the perfect cauldron to brew innovative ideas. Over the years more and more measures were taken as it was becoming easier and safer to live normal lives amongst the massive people.
At 2024 it had been over 25 years, it was still new and almost a novelty for all of us. Living, working, playing side by side. Especially for people like myself who grew up in a small town where no humans lived…yet. But now that I have lived in the city for a number of years. I’d like to think I’ve adapted well.
Today I was meeting my best friend Amy and her wife Joyce for coffee. Amy and I survived the last two years of college together. Studying at 4 in the morning and eating ramen noodles. Since then we have become family to each other. It was Amy who convinced me to stay in the city after graduating. I’m so glad she did.
As far as Amy and her wife, while it’s not unheard of, it certainly isn’t common for a human and tiny to date. There are so many differences to overcome. But Amy and Joyce stuck it out and got married!
Amy had introduced me to Joyce a couple months after they started dating. Honestly, It was a daunting moment for me. Joyce was the first human I met since college. While in school, I honestly only saw humans in passing. I never truly got to know anyone. Sure I waved hello at some humans in passing, but as a tiny individual, I hadn’t had the opportunity to actually meet and become acquainted with one on a CB more personal level. Meeting Joyce brought the expectation of becoming friends with her, should their relationship continue. However, It didn’t take long for me to adore Joyce. She had a contagious laugh that Amy couldn’t resist. Seeing Amy so genuinely happy makes me happy. I am glad life paved a way for them to find each other.
Since meeting Joyce, I slowly became more and more acquainted with the gigantic people. I’m still very nervous around human strangers, but a tiny 5 inch tall woman in a city needs to be in this day and age.
I was reminiscing about all of this sitting on the coffee shop table, when Amy repeated something to me. “I’m sorry Amy, I was just thinking about the first time you brought me here to meet Joyce. What was that?”
Rolling her big green eyes Amy laughed. “I was asking if you remembered Greg.”
“Greg who?”
Rolling her even bigger honey brown eyes Joyce smiled. “Greg is my brother. You met at the wedding last year.”
“Oh!” I tried to think back. But I couldn’t remember his face. Quickly Joyce pulled up a photo on her phone and showed me. “Awww, great smile. He looks vaguely familiar but I was so focused on being a bridesmaid, I don’t remember him. I’m sorry. Why do you ask?”
“He has worked hard for a promotion and his company is sending him here! He will be moving out here in a few weeks.” Joyce sounded thrilled for her brother.
“Congratulations!! That great news!”
“Isn’t it? You’ll absolutely love him. That’s why we are setting you up with him.” Amy announced.
“Wait, what?!”
“Amy!” Joyce glared down to the tiny seated next to her. “That was not subtle.”
“I told you, she doesn’t DO subtle. You gotta rip it off like a bandaid and let her freak. It’s her process.” My best friend was right, because internally I was freaking. I was trying so hard not to freak…. But I was absolutely freaking out.
With thoughtful tender hands, the enormous individual before me rested one of her huge fingertips on my hand. “All we want to do is give you his number, and with your permission, give him yours. It’s going to be a few weeks before he gets here. Then once he does get here he will probably be swamped. So just text. See what happens.”
I could do that. I could text. Couldn’t I?
“W-why me?” I tried to be casual, “tried” being the key word here.
“You have one or two similar interests, but mostly it’s your personalities. We know you both well enough that we think you two will hit it off.” Amy was proud of her ability to observe people. No doubt this was mostly her idea.
The rest of the day my head was swimming with “what if”. Every 10 -20 min I would tell myself that I was being over dramatic. It was just texting. Nothing had happened. Nothing will probably happen. Then I vowed to no longer stress about it, until “what if something does happen?”. Which would kick start the whole vicious cycle again.
I nervously checked my phone to see if I missed anything. Nothing. I did tell Joyce and Amy to have Greg text me first, right?? The hours passed into late evening where I was curled up at home, failing at keeping myself distracted.
Maybe he remembered me from the wedding and didn’t want to talk to me. Maybe I was difficult, or cold towards him? I was super focused on Amy. Trying to do everything I could for her. Maybe, being with a tiny is appalling to him. Or maybe he thought I was too ugly? The list went on and on in my head.
A sharp “ding!” Rang through my quiet apartment. I was so focused on my overthinking that I jumped out of my skin when it sounded. My phone had received a text. For a brief moment I didn’t want to see if it might be Greg. But curiosity got the better of me.
It was indeed from Greg’s number. It was an apology?
[Hi. This is Greg. Sorry for the late text, just got my sister’s voicemail. Hope this didn’t wake you up.]
I bit my bottom lip as I pondered what to type back. It needed a proper vibe and feel. Welcoming but not desperate. Lovely but not clinging. I’m overthinking it again.
(No, not at all. I am still winding down from the day. Hi, this is Kristine. Congratulations on your promotion!)
“Winding down from the day”? Do people still say that? I’ve been called an old soul before. I’ve been told I talk like someone’s great grandmother before. Maybe I should have said I was chilling? Or chill? No… not my style.
[Thanks! Yeah I’m excited to be moving up there. Do you like living in the city?]
(Actually my apartment building is just outside of the city. Closer to my job. So I’m not in the middle of it.)
[oh yeah? North or south of the city?]
(South southeast.)
[Cool! My company is in a south part of town. Maybe we could be neighbors.]
Neighbors? I live in a tiny apartment, there’s no way….Wait….. didn’t Joyce tell him I was tiny? If she didn’t…
(Maybe distant neighbors… you do know I’m a tiny, don’t you?)
I did not want to send that text. I reread it multiple times to see if I could write it better. I flinched when I eventually did send it and nervously waited for his response.
[yeah]
That’s it? Just “Yeah”? Nothing else? How do I respond to that?
(Ok good, just checking)
[Cool. Gotta early day tomorrow. Ttyl.]
(Great, text ya later.)
Text ya later?? Oh come on Kristine! You could have done better than that.
Surprisingly I did text better, and worse over the next week and a half. That’s when he recommended a video chat. A video chat?! I would be able to see him, he would see me. Easily I felt myself become very nervous.
To me, this was almost as if it was a pre-date, date. I freshened my make up and hair. Made sure I had a glass of water in easy reach. Then, Just before he called, I quickly popped a breath mint in my mouth. That’s right, a breath mint. Even though This is a video chat. He wouldn’t be able to smell my breath. I rolled my eyes at myself just as my phone rang.
“Hello? Hi!” I greeted.
“Hey! Yeah, thanks for being open to a video call. I knew I was going to start packing this week and figured video calls would be better than texting.”
“I would have to agree. I imagine it’s hard to text with your hands full of boxes.”
“I’m not worried about the boxes, it’s the tape.”
“Oh?”
“There is a Christmas story behind that, either Joyce or I will tell you someday.”
“I see. Well then I better come clean about the way I use tape. Especially while wrapping gifts.”
“Uh-oh”
“Exactly. I use a ton of tape when I wrap. My gifts look awful and lumpy when I put them under the tree. One year as a kid I got my mom a Hurricane lamp, and I was so worried about it falling out of its display box and breaking. Almost every other day I stuck another strip of tap on it. Come Christmas morning there was more tape than gift wrap on that thing!”
Greg laughed at my story. He had a great laugh. He had a great voice, he was…he was cute! Goodness, was I crushing on him? I felt butterflies in my stomach. and I was fidgeting with my hair. Oh no, I was crushing on him.
Amy is going to just love this.
During our conversation that night. I opened up about how nervous I was that Amy and Joyce were setting us up. How nervous I was about texting. Even how nervous I was then and there during the call.
“Really? Could have fooled me. I had no idea. You present yourself very well and with confidence.”
“Thank you. That’s what years in the service and hospitality industry will do to you.”
“So that summer I worked at the ice cream shop, that must be where I got all my charisma.”
“You dork.” I laughed, it’s been a long time since I laughed this much in one night.
There were many more laughs, and talking was easy with him. Our conversation topics effortlessly flowed from one to the other. It wasn’t until I glanced at the clock that I realized we had been talking for five and a half hours.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I need to let you go so you can get some sleep tonight. I just kept jabbering on and on. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I knew what time it was.”
“You did? Why didn’t you stop me and say goodnight?”
“I was having too much fun. I didn’t want the call to end.”
“Really?” I felt myself blushing.
“Well, yeah. I haven’t had such a good time of just, talking, in years. I’m already looking forward to tomorrow night.”
“I’m looking forward to talking to you tomorrow night too.”
“But, you’re still going to text me, right?”
“As long as you still text me.”
“Deal.”
The next couple of weeks were fantastic. I was crushing hard on Greg. Our texts and video calls became an integral part of our days. I never would have thought that I would end up liking an enormous human. But here we are. Everything felt so great. Getting to know him was fantastic. I felt comfortable around him, at least virtual him.
Greg moved to the city and sure enough his new job had a ton of work for him that first week. He only unpacked what was essential, often times our calls involved him searching for something in his boxes.
“Kristine, I have a question for you.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Would you like to go to a costume party next week?”
“A costume party?”
“Yeah, it’s a huge work event/party and everyone is welcome to bring a few guests. I was wondering if you would like to go?”
“Go? As in go with you?”
“Yeah, sortof. I was thinking that we could meet up there at the party. That way if you’re not having a good time -or if I turn out to be some creep. You can just leave.”
“So, not a date?”
“No, not yet. I think we should meet face to face before an actual date.”
A few of his words stuck out to me, and I felt my heart apprehensively skip a beat.
“Not yet? Before an….Greg, do you think that maybe, perhaps, there is a part of you that possibly, might, want to go on a date with me?”
I was far too nervous to be asking such a question! How did that slip out of my mouth?!!
“Oh I KNOW I want to take you out on a date. I’ve been regretting not meeting up with you as of yet. Work just has me catching up to speed with everyone on my team. I’m almost done with it all. Then I can finally take you out.
But I know you get easily nervous. I was thinking a public atmosphere mixed with humans and tinies featuring dancing, raffles and such would fun to share with you. If you’re not comfortable with the idea we can absolutely wait until later.” Greg put no pressure in his words or on me. He genuinely wanted me comfortable.
I bit my lip as I watched the video feed of him while he continued to rummage around in a box searching for something. “Later?” I thought silently to myself. I was anxious to get the first meeting over and done with so that I wouldn’t be so nervous anymore. He was right. This was probably the best course of action.
“Let’s do it. Next week I will meet you at your company’s costume party.” I felt my face heat up against my will.
“Really? Great! That’s great! I’ll send you a digital invite with all the information.”
Next week became the present. How can time go by so slowly, and so quickly simultaneously. It was agonizing waiting for the costume party, but I felt like I needed more time before I was prepared to meet Greg.
I wanted to calm my nerves, and I thought calling Amy to see what she thought of my costume would help. It didn’t, but I was still happy I called.
“You Look Great!!” Amy cheered over the video call. “Joyce get over here, look, look, look! Isn’t that such an awesome Queen of Hearts costume?!”
Once Joyce squinted, she could make out the basic shape of the ball gown. “Oh, Fancy! Just don’t get too mad at my brother tonight. I like his head on his shoulders thank you.” Joyce laughed as she walked away, shouting “Off with your head” in the background.
“You WOULD tell me if this looked bad on me, right? I think I can still swing by the store-“ I was panicking and Amy put a stop to it right away.
“You are gorgeous. That gown is the perfect mix of sexy, and classy, with just a hint of overly dramatic. You know, like you. Now Joyce and I are off to see that artsy movie, Joyce’s coworkers recommended it. It’s 3 hours long! Ugh. Our phones will be off or silenced.” Amy reminded me.
“Ok, have fun!”
“You too!”
The drive was faster than I wanted it to be. Arriving at the correct address I bit my bottom lip, nervously trembling as I texted Greg.
(I’m here, I just got on the elevator. I’m dressed as the Queen of Hearts)
[Awesome! I need a pic of that!]
[I’m dressed as Paul Bunyan, be there very soon]
I sent him a selfie I had taken for Amy. Excited and nervous all at the same time. This was actually happening!! I smirked to myself as I thought of how funny it was that he chose Paul Bunyan. A giant to me, and he dressed up as a legendary giant.
The club hosting the private event was on one of the top floors in a sky scrapper. Floor to ceiling windows gave stunning views over the glittering city. There were hallways with seating near the windows, offering quieter spots to drink and chat. However, the main room was where everyone was at. A DJ was on stage blasted hit after hit, keeping the energy high and the dance floor crowded.
This club was surprisingly tiny accessible. Nearly every piece of furniture had tiny sized stairs or elevators integrated into their design. Making it very easy for Humans and Tinies to mix and mingle with each other.
Opposite from the stage was the bar. Human and tiny mixologists dazzled people with how fantastic the drinks tasted, and entertainingly making each drink. The best part about the bar, was how it morphed into the Tiny’s primary club floor. Like a fashion runway it jutted out from the bar and ended in the center of the dance floor.
Some places like restaurants or bars simply add a small counter off against the wall to be “tiny compliant” but this place was designed for everyone to have a good time.
I couldn’t go in there. Not yet. I made my way to the ladies powder room, feeling like freshening up would calm me down. It didn’t. I was in there for longer than I should have. Greg was probably here by now, I didn’t get a text from him, but he would be the kind of guy to be too excited to text.
Walking in the well lit and club fun designated tiny pathway, I looked up at the party goers. There he was, Paul Bunyan. He was near the bar, perfect! I could get Greg’s attention from there.
Once I was on the Tiny’s club floor, I made my way to the man costumed like a Lumber Jack.
“Is Babe your blue ox sad to miss out on all the fun?” I shouted up to him. Immediately regretting each and every word I just said. Thankfully it seems like he didn’t hear me, he is focused on the bar I guess waiting for his drink.
“Hey Greg! I’m over here!”
Still, nothing. No reaction.
“Yooohooo, Hello! Greg?” I waved my arms.
Finally he turned to look over his shoulder down to me. My heart bursting out of my chest … but… it wasn’t Greg!!
“Sorry, are you talking to me?” The stranger kindly asked.
I swear my face was as red as my lipstick. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were my friend. He is dressing up as Paul Bunyan.” My heart still bursting out of my chest in embarrassment.
“Nope, sorry.” The man took his huge drink and walked away.
I couldn’t believe I just did that. I was extremely embarrassed and prayed it would become a funny story someday. To be fair, all I could see of his face was his chin and his beard.
I scanned the crowd and sadly at this height, all I primarily could see were people’s chins until the tilted their faces down. But there was Paul Bunyan, I started to reach my hand up to wave but then behind him was another Paul Bunyan. 4 guys all chose to dress as the giant legend? Turning to look at the other side of the room, I saw two more Paul Bunyans laughing at each other. Then I counted at least 4 maybe more were on the dance floor. Which one was Greg?
(Hey, Greg? Have you arrived yet? I’m on the Tiny’s club floor near the bar.)
After 5 minutes I Still had no text. I reasoned that the music is so loud he wouldn’t be able to hear the notification. That means he must be here.
I watched each of the Paul Bunyans the best that I could. I felt my nervous heart start to morph and change. It became frail. My heart felt as strong as a decorative thin paper heart. Little bit by little bit, it was being torn apart.
That Paul Bunyan isn’t Greg, that’s not Greg’s laugh.
Rip.
Nope, not Greg, that man is wearing a fake beard.
Rip
Can I see his face? Nooope, not Greg.
Rip.
(Greg? Where are you? Are you ok? Please text me)
Something must have happened. I gotta give him the benefit of the doubt. He’ll be here. But after an hour, he wasn’t. My eyes were fixated on the entryway, waiting for Greg. Instead, More Paul Bunyans arrived. Each and every time I got excited and then immediately would crumble as I saw it wasn’t him.
Rip
Had… was… Was I being stood up? Was Greg not coming? Maybe he was only being nice to me for his Sister. Was it all a lie?
Rip.
(I’m still here. This party is great. Are you coming?)
Defeated and deflated, time ticked by slowly. As more and more people and Paul Bunyans arrived, I grew more and more disheartened.
Rip, Rip, Rip
(Amy, text me as soon as you’re out of the movie)
I waited for Amy And Joyce’s movie to end. Maybe they knew what was going on.
{Hey girl!! Having fun? Isn’t Greg the sweetest!!!}
I wasted no time to call her. Plugging my ear from the loud music, I could barely hear Amy. She was saying something to Joyce and how something must have come up or that something DID come up.
“What? I can’t hear you Amy!”
“He’s Not Coming!”
Rip.
That was it. That was the final rip that my heart could take. I felt so painfully alone. Greg wasn’t going to be here. He wasn’t coming. Would I ever find out why? Did I really want to know?
Part of me wanted to get drunk and “enjoy” the party on my own to spite Greg. Part of me knew he must have a really good reason why he couldn’t make it.
Slowly, step by step, I, the tiny queen of hearts made my way into a secluded hallway. The music dramatically quieted out here. Oh the irony, here I was dressed as the queen of hearts when mine was just shredded. I sat on a solitary long giant bench, looking out the windows to the glittering city lights in the night. I was thankful It was a little quieter in this corner. People would walk past behind me occasionally as they were enjoying themselves and the event.
I felt stupid for getting so excited. If I hadn’t been, then I wouldn’t feel this hurt. It’s my own fault. Nothing had happened between Greg and I. We hadn’t even met yet. So logically I shouldn’t be upset about it. It’s my own stupid heart’s fault for getting so wrapped up over a slight possibility. A very slight possibility.
He probably did actually get here. He probably got here, saw me, and left. He is human, I’m not. It couldn’t work out. I was fooling myself.
Maybe he is out there in the crowd, dancing and laughing, bet he found a gorgeous human to be with out there on the dance floor with. Not some pathetic 5 inch tall cocktail garnish.
Sure I was spiraling. Throwing myself a proper pity party. Saying hurtful things about myself - to myself. I felt so stupid for crushing on Greg, I just….I just… I just wish I didn’t hurt as much as I was.
“Anyone sitting here?” The voice of an immense man came from behind me. Turning to look, the poor guy was one of the plethora of Paul Bunyans in the place.
“By all means “Paul” make yourself comfortable. Though I wouldn’t recommend it. This is where the party dies.”
“Good, because my night is ruined.”
“Oh? Do tell.” I swirled my drink in my glass, wanting to be numb, but not wanting to have alcohol. Still, my heart aches so much I didn’t even flinch when the giant sat next to me, heaving a heavy sigh of his own.
“When I got invited to come to this thing, I thought it was going to be a fun night. But on the way here, I get this stupid flat tire. And the Tow truck won’t be there for at least 30 minutes. I got a little hot headed over everything that I kicked the dang tire. And in the process I stupidly dropped my phone. It broke, not just a crack it full on broke.”
“Yikes, that really sucks.”
“But get this! I was supposed to meet my girl here. She had been looking forward to this party and with no way to call or text her, she probably bailed. I must have disappointed her so badly.”
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. Umm…” I knew kindof how this guy’s girlfriend felt, I couldn’t leave that woman not knowing for the rest of the night. I pulled out my phone. “Maybe I can call her on my phone, put her on speaker? I don’t know how well you’ll be able to hear her. Or maybe she is still here at the party? Do you remember her number?”
“Really? You would do that? Oh gosh, it’s…. Let me think…505- 555-7557”
I start punching in the numbers as soon as he gave them to me, only to come to a dead stop.
“Maybe you’ve seen her here tonight. She is dressed up like ——-. Let me show you a photo, see There is only one thing I can do with this busted phone. I can press the power button to light up the Lock Screen.”
The man held up the pathetic, crumpled piece of technology. The screen horribly pixelated in some spots, dead in others. The glass shattered beyond repair. But the wallpaper of his locked screen was a selfie of a woman. A selfie of me. The number he gave me was my number.
I looked up at him so fast, I made myself dizzy. Looking down at me, he wore the most sincere, apologetic, smile I have ever seen.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m really nervous to meet her tonight. I’ve never seen her in person before and I really hope she likes me.” He made an exaggerated painful embarrassed grimace “I’m afraid I’m not off to a good start. Seems to me I didn’t pick out a very original costume. And I’m really really late….”
Greg slid off the bench getting onto the floor infront of me. Leaning and hunching over to get to my level. “I am so, so sorry Kristine. If I kept a level head or if I texted you before I kicked that stupid tire…I just…. I really let you down haven’t I?”
I shook my head, blinking back the tears of relief. Incredibly thankful that I wasn’t rejected. That Greg wasn’t trying to avoid me. Slowly I let out a breath to calm down so I could talk.
“I thought I had disappointed you.” My voice cracked as I sniffed. “When I got here and saw Paul Bunyan after Paul Bunyan, and from my perspective, in this lighting, all the beards and chins look the same! I couldn’t see anyone’s face or eyes. I didn’t know how to reach you!! And finally I called Amy, and she said that you were not coming. I thought… I thought-“
“Oh gosh, no no no no.” Greg plucked the drink glass between his index finger and thumb, straight out of my hands. Setting it aside he gentle took both of my hands into his fingers. “The only possible way you could disappoint me is if you vanished from my life all together without a trace. Ghosting me without an explanation. Talking with you each night has become to best part of my day. You are what I look forward to every single day. Tonight, I was scared that you would be so mad and hurt that I would loose our nightly phone calls. That I’d never get the chance to explain. I looked all over the Tiny’s dance floor and bar for you. I was honestly on my way to sit out here to see if you would be coming or going to the wash room! Thank god I did because…here you are. I kept waiting for you to look up and recognize me, but I guess all the beards and chins look the same. Huh.” He smirked at me before he continued.
“And then you have to keep being the sweetest, most kind hearted person by offering your tiny little phone for my use. Willing to call a total stranger’s friend.”
“Hey wait, you said you were here to meet your girlfriend.”
“Nope, I said I was here to meet my “girl”.”
“Sneaky”
“Well, I’m hoping she will go on a couple of dates with me. Hoping that maybe she will be my girlfriend.”
“Smooth.”
“Thank you” he chuckled feeling proud of himself.
“You’re trying to make me blush, aren’t you.”
“If that means I said something right, I sure am.”
“As much fun as a costume party is, I’ve never been one for hanging out at bars and clubs with blasting music for hours. Are you hungry?” I asked, wanting one on one time with him.
“Starving! I know of a little old Dinner where the laminated menus are falling apart and the milkshakes are to die for. It’s not far from here, just around the corner. Wanna go?”
“Yes please!! You want me to drive?”
The look he gave me was worth it. “You think you’re so clever don’t you. Ha ha very funny.” His eyes rolled in a false annoyance, as His wide smile betrayed him.
We sat at that little dinner for hours. Sipping on strawberry milkshakes, eating our hamburgers, talking, and laughing just like when we were on the phone. We probably looked silly, the Queen of Hearts about the size of human’s playing card and a Paul Bunyan, literally a giant to every tiny. In a way I’m glad we looked silly, because we were having fun just being ourselves. Enjoying each other for their genuine self. I don’t think we would have it any other way.
Idk if you’re still doing this psychoanalysis stuff but-
Still kinda new to the gt stuff but I noticed something that others haven’t brought up much that I absolutely adore. Size shifters! With size shifters dynamics between characters can fluctuate depending on if they go tiny or giant which is perfect for me since I’m indecisive lol. One of the things that appeals to me specifically is if the size shifter may not have a full handle on their ability or if it’s new to them, panicking as they look around for someone who could help, someplace to hide, etc. maybe causing a little collateral damage in the process. Maybe they try to keep it secret, seeing the ability as something dangerous or unnatural.
Then when throwing other people into the mix-
Someone the shifter trusts or someone they don’t know who they inadvertently they bond with from the encounter finds them in such a state. The person tries to play it cool for the shifters sake as their mind is going a mile a minute, trying to think of a way that the shifter can return to a normal size or at least calm down.
I got size shifters on the brain too anon 💕
Time to analyze this further-
Size shifters as an archetype have a clear tie to change. Shifting perspectives and dynamics, as well as power and control.
It can show indecisiveness sure, but depending on how its portrayed it can show a wide range of interesting topics- strong emotions, internal balance, high energy/excitability, uncertainty etc..
With size shifters in particular I think the context is crucial to getting a clear overall sense of your internal environment.
For example, a highly controlled size shifter that changes their size dynamically, for convenience and self expression, would likely imply a large personality and a desire for excitement and self expression. Comfortability in either side of the spectrum nods to self assuredness and confidence.
Now if you took that same person and made them shift emotionally, that changes the perspective drastically, nodding to feelings of a lack of control over emotions, perhaps a desire for those emotions to be seen and acknowledged. Rather than confidence, this nods to a lack of feeling in control of ones self, uncertainty, and personal disjointedness.
And even within the levels of control and emotional shifting there are key differences. An emotional shifter may typically never shrink, and is always in control of their emotions, so when they do shrink those feelings are poignant, and rather than a lack of control, they may signify a need for their emotions to be seen.
Its also important to analyze what drives the growth or shrinking. Shrinking is typically associated with feelings of vulnerability- which often times is portrayed alongside negative emotions. However there are various portrayals where shrinking may be more positively associated (the vulnerability we feel when we are flustered, comfortable, in love, and safe. Shrinking because ones needs are met and there is no need to have to feel big). Growth can also be negative- the feeling of being monstrous, being seen by many, being dangerous/out of control etc. How one associates the emotions to the sizes can be extremely telling of ones own internal environment.
With that rather extensive preamble out of the way, lets analyze your particular example.
"the size shifter may not have a full handle on their ability or if it’s new to them, panicking as they look around for someone who could help, someplace to hide, etc. maybe causing a little collateral damage in the process. Maybe they try to keep it secret, seeing the ability as something dangerous or unnatural."
I've gone and highlighted some key things of note. Firstly, we see a lack of knowledge/skill in the shifter - ie feelings of lack of control. This lack of control is directed inward at oneself. Said lack of control is causing fear/stress/anxiety as seen in the need to hide, and looking for help. What I found particularly interesting is the "causing collateral damage" implying that this is a growth scenario. With a growth scenario and the need to hide there is a very clear image that comes to mind of being essentially stuck in the open- too large to hide oneself and fearing being seen- and if we circle back to the beginning of this analysis, we see that said fear is linked to a lack of control.
So one could interpret this as symbolism for fearing that others will see you lose control.
This does not directly imply emotionally - loss of control can mean failure (losing control of the situation, not being able to manage one's responsibilities, being seen when we are vulnerable etc...). This draws me back once again to Collateral Damage.
Theres nothing in the scenario that suggests it was done out of anger, frustration etc... and I would go out on a limb to assume its accidental damage- making a mistake.
Our previous analysis then becomes- Fear of others seeing you mess up.
This is further exemplified by the wanting help, needing to hide, wanting to keep it a secret- all pushing the theme that one is afraid of others seeing them make mistakes.
The language of dangerous and unnatural may even hint at these mistakes being tied to social mistakes- with unnatural in particular hinting at the idea of not adhering to the status quo. Though this is more so grasping given that it could just as easily be a normal reaction to seeing size change and is just a stand in for other negative perceptions.
The later half of this trope/fantasy is very intriguing.
"Someone the shifter trusts or someone they don’t know who they inadvertently they bond with from the encounter finds them in such a state. The person tries to play it cool for the shifters sake as their mind is going a mile a minute, trying to think of a way that the shifter can return to a normal size or at least calm down."
Note how the language chosen was not someone who trusts the shifter, but someone the shifter trusts. The shifter themselves is scared, and it is them who has a need to feel safe- be it from someone they already trust or someone they have bonded with. The stranger who they bond with is worthwhile making note of. Bonding during an encounter suggests this person is open and accepting to a degree, or that the shifter themselves is charismatic enough to make someone understand them.
The first option likely suggests a desire to be accepted and understood as one is, though the second may imply a hope that one's values/personality/character shines through their mistakes, and that their own nature is good, but misunderstood.
Playing it cool for the shifters sake is quite interesting language as well. They aren't playing it cool for their ego (their own sake) but instead for the shifter. This seems to suggest that the situation is serious/important but they are willing to let their own feelings (implied with heart racing/fear) take a bake seat in order to prioritize those of the shifter (looking for a solution).
All in all this fantasy seems to be symbolic of a fear of others seeing one mess up and the subconscious seems to have projected a desire for those one cares about to be understanding and caring born out of genuine care/affection for the individual, as well as a longing for help from others.
Further analysis of the individual helping the shifter could have subconscious projection of either who the mind may associate with wanting help from, or the traits you may associate with being in control.
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I quite enjoyed our session today. Please feel free to book another session with the secretary at your earliest convenience.
I took a jewelry making class in school, and had the opportunity to work with silver. My shitty beginner stuff looked better than this! I loved reading this jewelers tags! Humorous and accurate.
Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)
TW: Blood
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Brittney's words echoed in my mind all the way home. I guess I haven't really paid much attention to how I've been handling my fear. It just sort of screams at me to get away from pertheans by whatever means necessary, and I've been listening to it. I thought I was doing a good job of handling my fear, but... could I have hurt my deskmate in the process?
"I don't have time to think about this," I utter to myself as I approach apartment 825.
I take my apartment key out of my bag and insert it into the lock on our door. When I turn the key, I hear a click, and quietly push the door handle downwards to open it. I creep into the apartment's entryway, carefully closing the door behind me and locking it back. I then begin to tiptoe through the apartment, ever so quietly, lest Dad hear me and start bombarding me with questions about my day. I'm pretty sure I have nothing to worry about, though, since he's sitting on the couch focused on his laptop and likely didn't hear me come in. I turn to enter the hallway. Now I just need to get to my room.
"How was school?" Dad says from the couch.
Drat. Should I make a run for it? I sigh, turning around. I've done enough running for today.
"Terrible, just like I predicted," I say.
"Terrible, huh?" Dad says, setting his laptop down and turning around in his seat.
"It was crowded with pertheans everywhere I looked!"
"That's kind of the point, dear."
I shift in place, my blood beginning to boil. Of course that's the point, and that's the problem. I just don't understand what good being forced to intermingle with the very people I'm afraid of is going to do for me. If I have to endure one more minute of 'open hand' or 'balcony' etiquette, I might just explode! I take a deep breath and hold it, pursing my lips together.
"Well," Dad says, pushing up his glasses, "was there anything about the school that you did like?"
I cross my arms and keep my eyes glued to the floor. "The time I didn't have to spend with my deskmate," I scoff.
"And how is your deskmate?" Dad asks. "What are they like? How are you getting along?"
"I— he—" I stammer. Images of my deskmate hurt by my rejection flash through my mind. His brows upturned and his wide eyes without that spark they had when we first met. That big, stupid smile of his, gone. I'm quick to shake the thoughts away. I sigh. "Dad, I really don't want to talk about this right now."
Dad scratches his head and nods. "I get it. I do. This is all new to you and you're still processing everything."
Right. He totally gets what it's like to live in constant fear of being grabbed or crushed by someone twenty times your size. Their fingers wrapping around your entire being, weak and pathetic by comparison, their grip on you tightening at a devilishly slow pace while all you're able to do is stare up at their sickening smile and into their cold, narrowed brown eyes—begging them for mercy as you struggle in vain to cough up the blood that floods your crumpled up lungs and threatens to drown you. My whole frame trembles at the very thought of... that face. Those hands. That... demon...!
I'm brought back to reality by the sound of Dad, now in front of me, snapping his fingers. When I look up at him, his furrowed brows and widened eyes relax. He lets out a sigh, and with both hands, begins to wipe away tears I didn't know had started to creep down my cheeks.
"You're going to be okay," he whispers. "Don't go back there. Look forward."
Against my better judgment and in spite of my temper, I do exactly as I did when I was a little girl. I lunge forward, sinking my face into Dad's chest. He wraps his arms around me, and with gentle shushing, he strokes the back of my head with his hand. Immediately, I'm taken back to when I was a little girl.
Until I was about eleven, I had terrible nightmares on the regular. When I was really little, I used to wake up screaming and run straight to Dad. No matter how late in the night it was, he always got up and held me just like this. I wish what I'm afraid of now was only a nightmare. I wish I could wake up.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A sigh escapes me as I shove my English, History, and Algebra books into my bag and close my locker. I try not to think about the inevitable: seeing my deskmate again after that abrupt exit I made yesterday. Yet it keeps on coming to mind, and I know that eventually I'm going to have to see him again.
What's he going to say? What did he think of me running off for a second time? I wouldn't be surprised if he's caught on to my fear by now just because of that! What if he's angry at me for not wanting to hang out with him? A knot forms in my middle as I think of all the ways a perthean could lash out at a human. Yelling. Beating. Crushing. Squashing. I look down at my quivering hands. What have I done? Don't I know better than to anger a perthean? What's going to happen to me now?
I pull out my phone. It's 7:56. I better be getting a move on if I want to make it to class on time. I take a deep breath and exhale, but it does nothing to calm my nerves. My heart beats faster with every second that passes on my way to the balcony, and my legs, wobbly as ever, threaten to give out with each step. I'm never going to get through this school year, am I? I'm such a wreck!
I weave through the crowds of human students blocking the entryway to the balcony, my whole body shaking more and more as I near the spot where I'll be interacting with my deskmate again. Can the others see me shaking? Can they tell I'm scared out of my mind? Everyone looks so happy to be here—smiling, talking amongst themselves, talking with their deskmates. I feel so utterly out of place, even among my own kind.
I approach the spot on the balcony where I last met my deskmate, and, reluctant as ever, scan the room for any sign of him. He's nowhere to be found. I scan the room again, and still nothing. Where is he? Maybe I should text him. I pull out my phone again, only to realize that I still haven't answered any of his texts. Would it be too awkward to text him now?
As I'm standing there worrying about the social etiquette of sending text messages, a shadow engulfs the area of the balcony I'm on, surrounding me entirely. Do I dare look? My heart pounds as an index finger bigger than my couch presents itself in front of me. I gulp. My eyes trace the oversized digit up to an oversized arm and across the mountain of green cloth that comprises the school's uniform before landing on a pair of dead, drooping blue eyes. I blink. Is this... my deskmate?
"Miss Finch," the boy in front of me mumbles.
I stare up at him, mouth agape. What happened to him? I envisioned him being... angrier. Confused, I take a few steps backward. I look at his finger again, which hasn't budged from its place in front of me. My eyes turn back to the boy's. He doesn't say anything. I don't say anything. We stand in silence. Something tugs at my heart as I look at my deskmate. Did I do this? Did I... break him?
I realize we can't stand in silence forever, so after I've had a moment to process the sight in front of me, I step forward and grab on tightly to my deskmate's outstretched finger. Once I'm secure, the boy lifts me from my place on the balcony and gently sets me down in the palm of his hand. He doesn't remove his finger until I'm situated. My heart pounds hard in my chest, but not for the reason I would have thought. I'm less concerned with being in this perthean's hand, I find, and more concerned with him looking... miserable. Could I have really done this to him? Am I the reason he's miserable? From the palm of his hand, I look back up to his face as he starts walking down the hall towards our first class.
"M-mi—" I start, my voice cracking. What in the world am I doing?! "Mr. Dr... Drake?"
There's no way he heard such a tiny squeak like that. Gosh, I'm so pathetic, I can't even bring myself to say his name!
His head turns downward, and his gloomy eyes meet my gaze. My heart pounds and pounds—a hundred times a second! There's a twisting, turning, churning deep in my core—and I can't keep myself from trembling helplessly where I sit in this boy's palm. His eyes, so full of energy and wide with enthusiasm when we first met, are now void of any hope or joy. I can't look at them. I turn my eyes to my own hands, folded in my lap, as the boy's stare burns me from above like a laser.
He doesn't say anything. I don't say anything. We move in silence.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I have to do something, I can't stand this. It breaks me to see him so downcast. And the fact that I did this weighs on me like a whole mountain of boulders.
Brittney's words from yesterday echo in my mind again: "your actions, whether you intend them to or not, can affect others. Especially your deskmate."
Especially my deskmate...
I have to fix this. What am I going to tell Brittney when she sees her friend like this? I can almost see her now, asking 'what did you do to him?!'
The bell rings. As students stand up to leave the class, the teacher rambles on.
"The bell doesn't dismiss you, I do," he says sternly. As students scramble out the door, he waves one hand in defeat. "Whatever, you're dismissed."
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor behind me catches my attention. I look back and see my deskmate stand to collect his things. I close my Algebra textbook and stuff it in my bag along with my notes. This is my last chance to make things right before we separate for our P.E. and lunch periods. I don't know what I'm more scared of, apologizing to this guy or the reactions his friends will have when they find out I'm the reason he's so upset.
I stand and turn around. The perthean boy in front of me is still shoving things into his bag at a sluggish pace. My heart thumps about in my chest as if it had a death wish. Pound, pound, pound! I wring my sweaty, quivering hands together and search my racing heart for anything, anything I can say to smooth things over with this guy.
"E-excuse me," I murmur.
Nothing. He didn't hear me this time. I have to speak up, don't I? Can I really do this? Should I really do this?
"E-excuse me, M-Mr. D-Drake?" I say, my legs quaking and my spine threatening to crack as I crane my neck back to look at my deskmate.
His eyebrows furrow, and his gaze shifts back and forth. He turns to look down at me, raising an eyebrow. His body, towering over me, takes up my whole field of vision. I nearly stumble backwards trying to keep my eyes fixed on his face, high above me. The boy, perplexed, points to himself as if to ask if I'm really talking to him.
"Mhm," I nod. Oh, what am I doing?!
The boy sits down in his chair. "Y-yeah? What's up?" he clears his throat. "I mean... is something wrong?"
"I-I..." I stare into his eyes, still drooping, still cold, still... distant. "I-I was wondering if we could... talk."
"Well, we're talking."
Ouch.
"Umm... I... there's something... I mean I want... no, I need—" I ramble on aimlessly.
"Yes?"
"There's something I need to say to you," I finally spit out.
"Something you need to say to me?" he asks, eyes widening as he sits up in his seat.
"Y-yes."
"Okay, I'm listening," he says, folding his arms.
"I-I-" my heart, oh my heart, I've run out of words to describe how badly it wants to beat right out of my chest and run far, far away from here! My insides contort into a big, twisted knot, leaving me mangled from the inside out. What do I say?! What do I do?!
"Miss Finch?"
I cross my right arm over my chest. Trembling and out of breath, I lean forward to bow the deepest I know how. "I-I'm sorry!"
"Huh?"
"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry for how I've treated you, for ignoring you and acting cold! A-and for r-running away, I didn't know what to say to you, and— I—" I look back up from my bow and see eyes wider than I've ever seen before. "If... if it's okay with you, I- I was wondering, can... can we start over?"
The boy blinks. I just made a fool of myself, didn't I? There's no way he'll forgive me! I've already done too much, what was I thinking even trying to apologize?
The boy's eyes soften, and he smiles. He lifts his right arm and crosses it over his chest. "I'm Derrick," he says. He opens one eye and looks at me. "And you are?"
My heart stops. Is this... is this him accepting my apology?
"Kaylin," I say, my arm crossing my chest as I dip forward again, this time only slightly.
"Well, Kaylin," Derrick says, "I guess you and I are deskmates. And we really should be headed to our next class."
"O-oh! Right," I say.
Derrick offers me his index finger, and I grab onto it tightly. As he lifts me up, I feel lighter. Not just because I practically weigh nothing in comparison, but... because I somehow managed to make up with a perthean. A perthean. And not only that... I think I just made a friend.
Patiently waiting for the day someone makes the perfect “Girl gets shrunk and her crush finds her and they fall in love all while trying to change her back” movie.
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