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This story was done as a commission for an anonymous user.

Here's one that's got some of almost everything, and specifically, everything extreme. If over-the-top sounds like understatement to you, read on. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Interested in commissioning me for your own custom story? Read details here: https://thejacksmith.deviantart.com/journal/Story-Commissions-698491757

I don’t think I can say what’s real anymore. Yesterday I think I had an idea, at least in the reality of my adoptive family’s home. That was before everything I believed about what could be possible was split asunder.

            My father was in the kitchen, shouting at my mother and sister, knocking jars and boxes over to the floor and threatening to show them the back of his hand. He’d already done so many times before. I could never fully understand what riled him up so high to think of using physical violence against two of the most peaceful women I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing in my life. I could do my best to protect them when I was around, but I wasn’t always around, and that’s when my mother and sister paid the price.

            This occasion, the day before today, was the last straw for me. There was no more standing by.

            I’d been stealing away time at the laboratory on my off-hours, just mixing and concocting, trying to devise a way to even the odds. Anything to protect my mother and sister. I’d only just put the last polish on what I’ve only come to call The Giga Pill. According to my year-long calculations, it should have increased their muscle and overall body mass. It should have stretched their biological geometry out like a rubber band, granting them six-foot-tall bodies and the necessary power to protect themselves from the fury of men under their own roof. It should have imbued them with an emboldened confidence and emotional centeredness necessary to overcome adversity. It should have simply made them a little bigger and a little stronger, just above average.

            It should have, but it didn’t. It did so much more.

            And now, today, as I stand upon the laboratory office roof downtown and watch my mother Nicole and my sister Brandy, in their birthday suits, towering above the town at what I can assume to be no less than a mile high, all of reality comes crashing down on me. It’s a sight I can scarcely convince myself to believe. I want to think my eyes are lying to me. But every time I blink, pinch myself, and look back up, there they are: my beloved middle-aged mother and beautiful twenty-year-old sister, their gorgeous dark skin against the backdrop of the clear blue sky, their black, flowing hair stretching toward the stratosphere. If today hadn’t been so clear, I doubt I would’ve even seen their faces through the haze of clouds.

            But I can see them, so there’s no denying who it is, what’s happened, and who’s responsible. My pulse quickens.

            It was only good I wasn’t home when the effect took place, or I’d probably be dead now. I’d simply snuck a pill each into the my mother and sister’s breakfast orange juice and then I’d hit the road for work, hoping to come home and find them both better equipped to defend themselves against my father and his uncontrollable rage.

            Technically, they did become better equipped to defend themselves. But I didn’t have to come home to discover this, because I noticed from the laboratory office out the high rise window. Though they’re so far off, still in the suburbs, they might as well be standing in the same room as me by the forced perspective of their dark, blinking eyes and gentle fingers caressing in wonderment over their newfound giant bodies.

            I can’t think either to rejoice that they’re now safe from my father, or despair to realize that I’ve probably inadvertently murdered the entire neighborhoods my mother and sister’s smooth bare feet now cover, with a mess of houses crumbled into the wrinkles of their soft soles. There cannot be feeling inside me for something so magnanimous and near-cosmic as this; I simply have to watch them. In fact, I can barely tear my sight away long enough to blink regularly.

            And hell, are they ever a sight to behold.

            “What’s going on, Mom?” my sister Brandy asks our parent, entirely understandably. Her voice shakes.

            “I don’t know, dear,” my mother Nicole answers earnestly. Their voices boom across the land, echoing over every dip in the geology.

            “What the hell happened to us?”

            “It must be a dream.”

            “Do you think? Everything feels so real, like the wind on my skin. If this is a dream, how are you here too, Mom?”

            “I’m trying to decide the same thing.”

            “But nothing like this can exist, right? There’s no possible way. Everything is so small, so far away. All I remember is… sitting in the kitchen, maybe? Then maybe taking a nap, and…”

            “So maybe we are asleep!”

            “Let’s find out,” Brandy concludes. She stoops down to her knees, clutching an arm across her mountainous breasts, and looms above what remains of the suburbs she and Mom destroyed simply by growing to their initial height and holding still.

            “What are you going to do?”

            “I’m going to see if the world reacts the way it should, if this were real,” Brandy explains. She takes a deep breath, her flat, athletic stomach inflating all the way as she sucks in air. And then she lets it out.

            All I can do is flinch at the sight. It’s distant, barely distinct, but I can tell what’s happening. The wind of Brandy’s blown, cold breath shoots through the neighborhoods. In an instant, the houses are plucked from the ground and scattered across the green fields like scraps of tissue paper and pebbles. They don’t stand a chance; no structure is able to keep standing for even a second as her mighty gale force breath rips through each and every suburban block. Houses, mansions, and entire communities scatter like ashes into the air. They come down upon the hills, in fields, some into the reservoirs and ponds beyond.

            I should consider myself and the urban sprawl lucky; if she’d happened to face this way before she blew, then probably one hundred houses would have fired into the series of buildings where I’m standing now, knocking many of them down like dominoes.

            In a single breath, my sister has destroyed three entire neighborhoods. All by simply bending over and blowing.

 

Chapter End Notes:

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