Dear Diary,

Today was fucked up.

I found Rose shrunk in the cafeteria. No, for real. Rose, the epitome of perfect. Student council president. 4.0 GPA. Full scholarship to some fancy music school. Beautiful auburn hair. And she isn’t a bitch like you’d expect –– she’s one of the sweetest, most kind-hearted people you could ever meet.

So she was the last person I’d expected to find four inches tall in the cafeteria. Barely one in two thousand people are even affected by the so-called “shrinker phenomenon” to begin with, and then to be found by me, the destitute loner of the senior class...

Seriously, it was weird that we were both even there at the same time. I’d been staying late to make up some of the tests I missed when I was taking care of mom last week. On the way out I stopped in the cafeteria to see if Greg would give me some leftovers again.

Yes, I use my boobs to get free food. So sue me.

Anyway, he and the rest of the staff had apparently left early today (just my luck) but I saw a purse lying in front of the vending machine. I thought it was a little weird that a bunch of clothes were lying there too, but I was more concerned with any cash that might be inside the purse, so I started looking through it. Keys, tic tacs, a nice smartphone...but no wallet and no cash. Frustrated, I picked up the phone to see if I could at least find who it belonged to.

Then the purse squeaked. I looked in, expecting a mouse or something, and I saw Rose. 

The poor thing was in tears, shaking and clutching a tissue like an enormous security blanket. I leaned in closer to her and she shrieked. I wanted to say something supportive, but like...what could I possibly say? I tried stroking her back soothingly. I must have startled her, because she shat herself. Literally. I guess that broke her, because she broke into full-fledged sobs and crawled weakly to the other side of the purse. So I just sat back and let her cry. Sometimes you just need to cry. It’s natural.

After a few minutes I leaned down again, slowly, and asked in a whisper if she wanted me to call her parents. It took a minute for her to respond, and I could barely hear her between the trembling voice and lower volume. Eventually I was able to make out that her parents were on vacation. She’d been trying to make a phone call to her aunt a few hours away, but her tiny limbs couldn’t activate the touch screen. I offered to bring her back to my mom’s place while we figured things out. Cue another bout of sobbing.

I felt a lump in my own throat. What the fuck was I supposed to do? After another few minutes I managed to calm her down by suggesting we at least get her cleaned up, and I could get her something to wear. Eventually she nodded and I picked up the purse slowly...but not slowly enough, because she toppled over and landed face-first in her own feces. She vomited and started sobbing yet again.

At this point I was just concerned for her well-being, so I delicately used my thumb and index finger to lift the tiny girl out of the soiled purse. She screamed bloody murder and flailed around wildly, and I just had to hold on tighter to keep from dropping her! I deposited her on my other hand and reached for a tissue to clean her up...but by the time I looked back at her, she’d passed out. Poor thing.

I took the opportunity to clean her up as gently as I could...I spat on the tissue and wiped down her face, her arms, her butt. I felt bad, like I was violating her somehow. But I would’ve felt worse leaving her all dirty. Once that was done, I gently wrapped her in another tissue and tried to decide where to put her. My pocket? She might get crushed. My purse? She might get whacked in the head by something. My bra? Ew.

I gathered her things and ended up cradling her against my stomach with both hands as I walked home, lightly petting her back with my thumb. She unconsciously leaned into my touch and snuggled against my stomach. It was actually kind of cute.

She was still sound asleep when I got home, thank god. Mom was sitting in her chair with her crossword, so I quickly kissed her hello and then went to my room. I put Rose on my bed, filled a small bottle cap with some water from the tap –– it hasn’t been shut off yet, thank god –– and left it next to her.

I tried to forget about her as I went through my usual routine. I made mom some chicken. Changed her IV. Mail had come in –– credit card solitications, more overdue notices, and the weekly invoice from the hospital. I ignored all of them, as usual. I didn’t tell mom about Rose; no need to worry her more. She noticed I was distracted, though; I shrugged it off and said it was just a long day. I don’t think she bought it, but she didn’t press the issue.

Once I finished everything, I made myself a cheese sandwich and went back to my room. Rose was still fast asleep on my bed. I sat down on the floor so as not to wake her, but I think she heard me or something because she started to stir.

I held my breath, praying she wouldn’t freak out again. She stretched and sat up, then looked around. Still a little disoriented. Then she saw me and started to tremble. Crap. I quickly scooched away as far as I could, and that actually seemed to help. She was still staring at me, but I could tell that her breathing was steady.

An hour later, I’m still sitting here, and she’s still staring. I’m afraid to move and set her off. But I was able to grab my diary off my desk and write this all down without upsetting her, so...progress. Now I have to figure out what to do with her. Lord knows I can’t afford to take care of her, and if I can’t even get close to her (let alone have a conversation) without traumatizing her, how am I supposed to get her family’s contact info? Blehh.

She doesn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this.

I guess sometimes shit just happens.