I didn’t even know I'd been captured... until I woke up in a cold, dark environment. "Well, shit." I muttered, rubbing my arms.

The back of my head throbbed, and a bruised lump was forming near my neck. Breathing slowly, I opened my eyes. Light flooded my vision and I blinked instinctively. I wasn’t sure what to expect, to be honest. My abduction had occurred so quickly that I didn’t have the time to consider where my captor would take me. I was sitting on a soft knitted blanket in a small, clear walled room.

An empty fish tank, I thought. The walls were made of thick glass and a battered water filter was attached to the ceiling. There were even a few doll’s pillows and other knick knacks scattered around me, but other than that, my prison was bare.

I was alone in a room without a clue where I was.

Great.

And outside the tank was the inside of a wardrobe. It was pretty small and cramped, but a large lamp was turned on beside me, among the dirty socks and crumpled clothes on the shelves. It cast a soft light overhead. I actually snorted at that; I mean- of all niceties, my capturer had even had the decency to light my prison. "Good one, dude." I rolled my eyes, standing up on slightly wobbling legs. I brushed a few dust motes off my jeans before rolling up the giant pocket I'd sewn on near my ankle. Inside was a tightly wound length of fishing line attached to a shiny metal safety pin. I yanked it out, whistling to myself as I wrapped the thick plastic rope around my hand and prepared to throw my grappling hook at the rim of the tank. My lips curled into a smile as the safety pin hooked itself to the glass pane on my first try.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Being this size my whole life, I'm not really scared off this situation as much as I probably should be. This wasn’t even that bad, when I thought about it. Max and his friends had put me through worse in the past. I’m not saying being contained in a glass fish tank was good or anything, but at least I wasn't suspended upside down from the ceiling or something. in fact, it seemed as though my captor had underestimated me so much that he'd even left the wardrobe open slightly. Today, luck was definitely on my side.

Once I'd made sure my grappling hook was secure, I hoisted myself up and onto the rim of the tank, before unhooking the safety pin with the casual flick of my wrist. I never left home without the rope strapped to my pants. It was like anyone else wearing shoes; they're just something you guys do routinely. The same principle applies with me. I can still get around pretty well without my grappling line, but it opens up many of the height barriers that people like me struggle with. I can get places much quicker with its aid.

"Heh. What an idiot." I muttered to myself with a shake of my head. I wound my grappling hook around my shoulder and leapt off the rim of the fish tank to land at the base of the wardrobe. This was almost too easy. Clearly, whoever had abducted me had failed to account for the one factor that put me above everyone else my size.

Experience.

"Lucky break." I smirked, as I slid through the gap left in the wardrobe. I clambered onto the wooden floor and folded my arms, surveying the room with the eyes of a professional escape artist. My options were pretty good so far. The guy hadn't even shut the door to his room! I could get to a phone out there and contact my family as easily as anything. I might even be able to reason with my captor themself. Basically, things were looking up.

That is, until I heard the sudden thumping of giant feet outside and the all too familiar figure of Thomas Ryan bursting into the room.

****

Was it right to do this? Thoughts rattled in my head as I pedalled home. I shook my head; no. It is perfectly right. She deserved to suffer like every other shrunken. But something about her nature… Stop, Thomas. You don't pity them anymore. She deserves it. She deserves it. They deserve it.

I rode down the countryside on my bike, thinking hard. It was a quiet ride, the wind whistling through my ears and caressing my sweaty face like soft feathers. A sheen of sweat covered my arms and forehead. My stomach gurgled. I was almost home. About a kilometre to go. My legs pedalled automatically as I scanned the passing farmland with bored eyes.

The jar was in my backpack. Amy hadn’t been hard to capture, just as I’d predicted. She didn’t run when my shadow passed over her, or turn soon enough. I might've even knocked her out pushing her into the jar. She hadn't uttered a word since getting captured. It's always hard to tell with the shrunken, after all. She was so fragile. They all are.

I swerved into my driveway, sending dust everywhere. Pushing my bike into the garage, I said a quick hello to my chooks before elbowing the front door of the house open. Julie greeted me when I walked in, as she always does. I pulled my helmet off and shook out my matted hair, streaked with sweat. Julie had made lemonade from lemons off our tree. It was set on the coffee table in a large jug, condensation running down the sides.

“Hey Jule.” I smiled. I gently set my backpack down on the couch so I wouldn’t injure Amy any further.

Our house was small; a one storey cottage on a farm. There was basically a lounge room with one couch, my room, my foster parent’s room, and a kitchen with a bathroom. We had a fireplace in the lounge room, which was a rustic black steel and constantly creaking as though it would fall apart at any second. I settled down into a chair and poured myself some lemonade. Julie was wearing a blue apron around her plump waist and had her curly hair pulled up out of her face. She was busy baking what looked like muffins in the kitchen. I took a large swig from my glass of lemonade.

“Have a good day?” Julie asked with her back turned.

“Yeah, it was good.” I replied between swallows. I downed the rest of the lemonade and slung my bag over my shoulder. “Gonna do homework.” I muttered before entering my room and shutting the door tightly.

“Ok,” Julie called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s on the stove!” Without answering, I laid my backpack on my bed and unzipped it slowly. Amy was still unconscious, her tiny chest rising and falling like a sleeping bird's. I held the jar at eye level, studying her. She had the same soft flowing hair as her portrait and a skinny frame. She was wearing what looked like a sweater and jeans, and had striped socks covering her feet. It was uncommon for a shrunken to wear shoes. Her eyes were closed, but I knew that they would be pale blue when she opened them. I opened my wardrobe and was just about to retrieve my old fish tank when I heard a soft knock on my door.

“Thomas! Come feed the chooks!” I cursed to myself quietly and glanced at Amy’s sleeping form in the jar. I hastily yanked the lid off and slipped her onto an old washer in the fish tank before shutting the wardrobe and throwing the jar aside.

“Coming!” I yelled back.

****

 “Welcome to your new home, Amy Leebeck.” Thomas said, eyes trained on the wardrobe hungrily. I backed up towards the base of his bed and bunched my fists as he stood over me. The giant boy yanked open the door to the wardrobe like a madman and stuck his head inside... before jumping backwards and clutching his hands to his cheeks. "Shit!"

I had to roll my eyes at that; I mean, what else would you say after your prisoner miraculously escaped. It was his own stupid fault for leaving it so easy for me, anyway. I always pictured him as more of a cautious guy. This was ridiculous.

Thomas straightened up and, still without even checking for me under the bed began to peer around the room with narrowed eyes. "I know you're still in here, Amy. You can't have gone far."

I sighed and slumped my shoulders, knowing that hiding was never going to help my convince my captor to free me. "Over here, big guy." I called out with a casual wave, unamused.  

In an instant, his giant blue eyes flickered to me, and those thin lips curled into a knowing smile. He folded his arms and gazed down at me with renewed vigour. "There you are." He said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Yep. I'm right here. You don't really need to say that."

The smile faded, and he frowned, eyes ablaze. I did my best not to let my weakening knees get the better of me. Fear was never a good quality for someone my size. Reasoning on the other hand could do wonders in a sticky situation. What I didn't know at that point, though, was that Thomas Ryan wasn't the negotiating type of guy. He never was.

“I had a hunch it’d be you abducting me” I continued in a bored tone. “Those evil stares you kept giving me in class really sent the wrong message.” I paused, regarding him with some interest. "Just like the one you're giving me now, actually."

 Thomas only snorted and rolled his eyes. His skyscraper tall frame bent down slowly, and I knew this was him playing the intimidation card. I took a small step backwards under the bed, but otherwise remained fixed to the spot as he knelt down before me, hand on his knee.

"I take it that you're wondering why I've brought you here, then." He cooed. "I'll give you a hint-"

"No! Wait!" I held up my own hand, shooting him a faux excited expression. "I want to guess! Are you... going to... train me as your personal slave?" He actually appeared taken aback by my enthusiasm, but shook his head tightly after a moment. Pursing my lips in thought, I continued. "What about a sex toy, then? I've heard that you big people find that... enticing."

"Wait, what? No!" He snapped, almost bursting my eardrums. I rolled my eyes at his exclamation.

"Hmmm... will I be your assistant then? I'd make a pretty awesome tutor."

He shook his head.

"You want to kill me, then? Cause that'd be a bit of a shame..."

He shook his head.

"Rape me?"

"Give me to your sister?"

"Be my best friend?"

"Eat me!?!"

"Will you shut up!" He yelled, balling his car sized hands into fists. His body practically rippled with irritation. I never knew I had that effect on people. "All you need to know is that you're mine now. You're not a pet, or a slave, or an assistant. You are my prisoner."

I had to snort. "Gee. I've never belonged to anyone before. This'll be pretty fun!"

"It won't be once I'm through with you!" He snarled in response, and then I saw it. The flicker in his eyes, a flicker that radiated power. He was about to make a move. Unfortunately for Thomas, I was already on top of the situation.

The giant lunged at me with his plushy hand and I did a quick back roll to dodge the attack. In seconds I'd righted myself and was calculating his next move in my head, using his magnetised body language as a guide. He swung his arm again and I leapt over it, kicking off his ring finger and tumbling neatly to the timber floor.

"Huh. You almost had me there!" I smirked as I predicted his next movements. The twitch of his biceps. The slight bending of his fingers. A classic grab was heading my way, but this time, I took to offense.

"Stop fighting it, Amy." He cooed, raising his hand once more. "I won't let you escape."

"You really underestimate me, then." I fired back, hand reaching down to the dress maker's pin strapped to the inside of my jeans. In seconds I'd yanked it out and had it poised expertly in my grip. I'd practiced self defence since I was five, and for someone smaller than a fricking pencil, it was pretty much the best thing I could ever have done for myself. With routine movements, I dodged his incoming strike and leapt over the giant hand, jamming the weapon deep into his skin and flipping to the ground. Thomas let out a gasp in shock and pain, and, being me, I only laughed and stuck my tongue out.

"That's gotta sting!"

Wasting no time, I sprinted to the edge of the bed and took one last glance at my captor before launching myself headfirst into his paper bin. Balled up wads of tissue softened my fall, and I curled up into a tight ball at the base of the plastic bin, hoping it was enough to hide me.

"You little bitch!" Thomas fired from outside. Something smashed to the floor beside the bin and I actually squeaked in silent shock. Okay. Maybe the bin wasn't as good a hiding place as I'd originally perceived. But hey; I was kind of in a hurry, there. Quick thinking was all I had on my side.

The desk was yanked across the room beside me, and I felt every single movement vibrate through my body. My teeth rattled, but I barely had time to recover before  a shadow fell over my hiding place and the bin was pushed to the side roughly. I barely muffled my own yelps as I was thrown sideways into a hunk of tissues and paper. Light was suddenly flooding into the bin and I groaned, spying Thomas as he ripped the rubbish from my hiding spot. His hot breath tingled my skin as he rummaged through the bin.

I edged along the wall, hands beginning to sweat. His fingers brushed the nearest sheet of ripped paper away, and before I could prepare for anything, Thomas flung his arm at the sides of the plastic, throwing me and heaps of random rubbish out onto the wooden floor of his room. I bit back another scream as I was tossed through the air before skidding to a halt on the ground. I coughed the air back into my lungs and tried to prop myself up but my arms gave way and I crumpled to the floor with a groan. Thomas was onto me in seconds. He bent over my shuddering form and smiled.

“Almost got away, Amy. Almost.” He whispered so softly I could barely hear. Not that I could anyway because my ears were ringing. I didn’t bother scrambling away this time as he grabbed me by my left arm with his fingers. They were rough as sandpaper against my skin. I gritted my teeth in pain as I was lifted high into the air, dangling in front of a giant, angry face.

"Hmph. Well played." I muttered, in a bit of a grudge. I patted down my crumpled shirt with my free hand as he studied my with trashcan sized eyes.

 “They've never put up so much of a fight.” He mumbled, sounding almost impressed. I didn’t say anything in response; What did he mean by ‘they’? Before I could question it, he continued. “You know, I hate people like you. Small ones. You put my mother in jail and killed my dad.” Thomas said. “You’re the reason I live in this foster home.”

“What’s a foster home, I wonder?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I tried my best to ignore the numb sensation in my arm from the guy's tight grip. Thomas only looked at me curiously.

“Where we are now. I have foster parents who look after me.”

"And FYI, I didn't put you here, dude. I hadn't even left my house until I went to high school with your lovely face."

"You don't know anything, do you?" He muttered angrily, tightening his pincer grip on my wrist. I grunted as his strong fingers dug into my bones.

"I do know that if you keep squeezing me like this, you'll crush my hand." I tried to shrug through the pain. "But I suppose that could've been your intention all along."

 Thomas only rolled his eyes, but didn't loosen his hold.

"Whatever, buddy." I sighed. "I'll just have to push a heap of bones back into place once you let me go."

"Let you go?" His eyes twinkled with sudden energy. The frown on his face twisted into a menacing smile. "Whoever said I would let you go?"

"Well duh. I kind of figured that part out. I meant releasing my arm, actually."

 Thomas exhaled quickly in irritation, but before he could reply, there was a muffled voice from another room.

“Tom! Dinner!”

Thomas cursed under his breath and looked at me, snagged in his grip. There was a glint in his eyes, that hadn't been there before. My eyes widened as I anticipated his next move. His free hand wrapped around me so quickly I couldn’t even snatch a breath before I was whipped away. I didn’t get my fish tank prison back though. Instead, as the giant boy rose to his feet, he led me towards the opposite side of the room to a large box shaped thing covered in a white sheet. It was laid quite neatly on a simple wooden stool and looked almost as big as my bookshelf. I shook my injured hand as it was released, forgetting for a moment that I was trapped in Thomas's iron grip as I felt for any broken bones.

"Really, man? That's gonna leave a bruise, now." I muttered as he reached over to pull the sheet off the strange box.

Thomas didn’t hesitate. Before I could even see what it covered, I was shoved through a hole in the box and the sheet was pulled back over. I landed hard on something soft and squishy and immediately leapt to my feet.

“Can I at least have some ice? I think you sprained my fingers!" I yelled as loud as I could, but there was only a laugh from outside my strange new prison.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Amy. This is your home now. A punishment for taking away my family.” There was a slam from his bedroom door as he left.

"YOU DIDN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION, PUNK!" I fired back, but sighed and slumped my shoulders after realising he'd already gone. I took to staring at the sheet over me, not bothering to inspect where I was. That is… until I heard a voice. I have to admit, it shocked me just a little.

“Um… Hello?” It said.