His name was John Alson, age 16. He had dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and was just under 6' feet. He was on the soccer team, somewhat shy, and a skater.

He lived with his sisters, Amber and Emma. Amber was eighteen, blonde with blue eyes, and tall. She played volleyball on the local college's team. She was mean, bossy, and quick to get into a fight with John or someone else.

Emma was thirteen, small with brown hair and brown eyes. She was quiet, and John didn't interact with her much.

His mother, Stacy, worked at a diner, McCheesey's, and hardly came home. She was tall, blonde and blue eyed.

Their father had disappeared two months before Emma's birth and John didn't remember him. There were no pictures of him in the house and Mom never talked about him.

One morning, Amber refused to get up to drive to college. Mom threw her hands in the air and proclaimed, "If she's late for school, it's her fault!"

John had offered to drive Emma to school in his old beat up truck, and, giving Amber a worried look, she nodded.

"Alright, finish getting ready, then. I meet you in the car at 6:55, got it? I'm leaving at 7:00, whether you're in the car or not."

She nodded and scrambled back to the room she shared with Amber to dress.

John headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and maybe fix his hair. That day, he was planning on asking his crush, Morgan Brooke, out.

 Morgan was a small, pixieish girl with dark brown hair and bright green eyes. She had freckles sprinkled across her face and dimples when she laughed, which was often.

Putting on a nice shirt and the cleanest jeans he could find, John walked into the kitchen to see Amber pouring the last of the cereal into her bowl. She sat in her regular seat wearing nothing but a bright pink bathrobe.

"Is there anything left, Amber?" he asked, looking frantically in the cupboards.

"Nope!" she said cheerfully, taking a particualrly big bite of cereal to prove her point.

"Thanks alot, then." he grmubled, walking off to tell Emma to grab a few dollars, so he could get them breakfast.  

Coming back into the kitchen, he grabbed a cup of coffee.

After taking Emma to Wendy's(the pancake house, owned by an elderly woman named Wendy) he dropped her off at school, then drove to the high school.

There, he saw his best friend, Tyler Patrick. He was leaning against John's locker, looking dead to the world.

Tyler was super skinny, with long dark hair and dark brown eyes that gave many people the impression that Tyler's head was emptier than a walnut. But that wasn't true, Tyler had once won the school scinece fair. He just chose not to act and dress like a nerd. He was half Asian, although you wouldn't have guessed it, looking at him.

When they entered Geometry, he saw Morgan Brooke in her usual seat, talking to her friends, Anne Green and Jessa Towle.

"Well?" asked Tyler "You gonna ask her or not?"

John blushed, feeling tense. "Not while she's talking with her friends. That would be rude." And awkward, but he didn't want to admit that to Tyler.

"Chicken, man...." muttered Tyler, dropping into his seat and slumping forward, snoring.

School was pretty normal, teachers asking questions, the coach yelling at John, a food fight. But John never found a chance to ask Morgan out.

About twenty minutes into the last class of the day, History, however, an office aide came in to ask if John would come to the front desk.

Bemused, he walked out to the sounds of teasing and chants from his classmates.

The office aide gave him a look of pity and walked off, leaving him to walk up the hallway alone.

He never made it. Walking past the girl's restroom, his older sister, Amber stepped out.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

She smirked. "Why do you care, pipsqueak?"

"I'm taller than you, braindead." he retorted.

"Not for long," she said. Shivers ran up his spine as she pulled something out of her purse. At first, he thought it was a gun, but then he realized it was some sort of syringe.

"What are you going to do with that?" he asked, nervous. She stepped closer and closer, pushing him up against the wall. Then, covering his mouth, she injected the syringe into his arm.

The hallway spinned and his head felt light. He wondered if he was dying. Was his sister trying to kill him? He didn't want to die!

His breathing came faster and he thought he was going to throw up. Just as he thought his lungs would pop, he blacked out, flopping against the floor.

Amber smirked, leaning down and pulling the syringe out of her brother's shoulder.

"Have fun, little brother." she laughed, and stood there, curious what it would look like when the syringe's contents took effect.

And soon it did. She watched in apid entertainment as her brother, who used to be nearly six feet tall shrink down.

Five feet, four feet. She worried that someone would walk down the hallway just as her brother hit three feet, but no one came. When he was just under eight inches long, she leaned down and, picking up her brother, she dropped him into her purse.

"Hope you enjoy your nap, baby brother," she smirked, zipping it up and walking out of the school.