It was a quiet day when Meryl Baker vanished from the earth, that lull period between summer and autumn where the first leaves began to wither and crumble to the ground but colour still reigned, like a moment preserved in time, one you couldn’t help but wish lasted forever.

But there’s a reason things don’t last forever, things should grow and change, become new and different things is what makes life worth living for.

Meryl came to know this all too well.

The woman’s hand danced, near invisible prickles of light danced through her fingers bending matter and will to her design, humming to herself a cheerful tune her mother had done when she was younger, she missed her dearly still but she returned her attention to the matter at hand - Meryl loved nature, she'd appreciate that yellow summer dress she'd donned her in, she was too small for her screaming face to ruin the vibrant forest setting, she would become her forever little princess enjoying the brisk warm sun in her tiny cube realm, the magical clear amber settled and stirred, tiny little bubbles ripples and simmered away as the mixture settled.

She had to get the details so perfectly right, the tiniest flower petal and blossom shade on the trees - sometimes she'd just sit back and stare at them when completed, they were a labour of love, a show of one’s skill and ability, and then when her tiny cube would be placed amongst its sisters on her bedroom shelf.

It was silly but she found herself letting out her woes and troubles to them as her small but patient audience, always happy to listen to her after a rotten day - their silence an unsaid agreement for her to continue, for all her petty woes could be settled by preparing her next cube, its latest dweller carefully selected and picked - Meryl, sweet, beautiful Meryl. A girl who had relentlessly bullied her since her earliest school years, always picking fault in her appearance, from the acne to her eyesight not even her mother’s talented magic could correct properly, Meryl had made her feel broken and alone, being a witch amongst humans hidden away out of fear of pain or worse certainly didn’t help.

But, not to be deterred she knew it just took the right encouragement to make a long lasting friend, her mother had taught her, she helped her brew the amber, the glowing lines that floated in her mind that could bend reality to her will, it just needed a delicate hand to nudge those strings.

Meryl’s wickedness like all her friends she knew stemmed from something deeper troubling them below, something she could relate too all too well, she pitied them, if she couldn’t fix herself she’d simply fix others, uplift them to the light and beauty she still saw in them, the beauty and kindness she wished others may one day see in her.

She stared at Meryl’s crying eyes, fixed in place only to stare forward, she was beautiful, fixed in place never to know the ravages of time, she was her friend now as she placed her tiny world onto her shelf amongst the others, she knew more would be added soon - they’d be a great happy family.

Meryl was sat in her little meadow, a flowing stream, birds on the trees, their little plastic forms not perceptible to a human’s eye but Meryl was real, so perfect, her fair skin and shimmering blonde hair.

She smiled at her before carrying on with her day, the little thing needed to settle in, it must be oh so big and scary to them, but she knew she’d get used to her home, fixed in place, sealed in the resin.

The years caught on quickly, seasons came and went, new flowers brought to vibrant life and withered just as fast, but it was beautiful.

The young witch had left school, she had made herself known in her small non-human communities, her artistry inspired others to create their own masterpieces, she truly felt like she belonged, her eyes still glanced to her personal collection, now laying on the mantle of her fireplace, neatly arranged in a row together, a photo of her daughter together, a spitting image of many she shared with her own mother before her tragic early passing, she too had begun her own art, her own groups of friends dotting her room like hers.

She still had her own mother’s friends somewhere, they would be with her family forever, preserved with her grandmothers friends and other generations long since pressed into history, it was a tradition that their art and friends would be passed down through the generations, last she recalled they were in a small ornate box in the attic, its small size deceptive for its thousands of tiny friends that lived in silent harmony together - she knew deep down those poor friends missed her family greatly, but they would endure forever together - that was their gift to them, their own little pocket of a perfect world untouched by cruelty or need.

Now drawing near her 3rd decade, she always felt sad at her earlier projects, her early forays she did whilst at school, never quite as perfect as her recent ones were she had mastered her mother's craft, she was always happy at Meryl’s meadow, it was was one of her most prized pieces still, she took time to wave and talk to her when she wasn’t busy with life’s necessities.

Hazel's flower bed wasn't perfect, her eyes always looking at it longing for the flowers to bloom, a perpetual winter was her unintended fate, she had been in a sour mood that Christmas she recalled, it had been the funeral, but none of the tiny creatures looked a day older since the day she placed them carefully in the clear amber, preserving them in a limitless time, they'd never grow old or sick but nor would they experience anyone's life but hers.

They had just been stupid teens, they where mean and cruel but neither did they truly deserve that fate the thought struck her deep down and yet they got the worst luck out of the fireplace's dwellers, the rest where people from her later life, adults that had fallen into her palm, people who had sought to crush her, to bring her down from their own self hatred - each telling their own story of her past college days, to her graduation from university to her many prosperous jobs but they wouldn't need to worry about the grass being greener on the other side she thought to the several teens, for they could not turn their heads to see it, their narrow view was selective, one would be lucky enough to have a neighbour they could actually see.

Meryl was lucky, she could still see her best friend Jenny, two clear cubes paired together like siblings, she had spent the last ten years staring at the back of Hazel’s head before it dawned on her that Meryl and Jenny had been inseparable when they were in school, who was she to deny them that?

—

Maybe they were fortunate to stare up as they played back in their fragile minds the warm liquid pouring over them, most looked down and shielded themselves, whilst they looked at the well placed sprinkled floor the others could only watch as the dust trickled down like a fine snow on the roof of their world, never would they be able to touch or feel it, they'd have done anything to feel the dust, to feel something new again.

They'd take anything, they'd let the witch do anything to them if it meant they could feel the air in their lungs, or smile, or even blink, to feel the embrace of sleep again and wake up feeling relaxed and alive again.

To feel words form again, to know what that felt like to be hugged or loved, they'd forgotten what it felt like, when was the last time someone spoke to her? she couldn't even remember the last face she saw that wasn't her.

Meryl wanted to scream, she had been in there since her 18th birthday, she remembers she wandered away from the party, that girl who she mocked, a small twisted grin appeared but before she could act it was over in a blink of an eye - that was decades ago now, she had watched the giant grow and mature into a beautiful woman, someone of poise and elegance, she was still meak, and young, she felt it in her mind, she felt immature, hazy.

Over twenty years of her garden, her little yellow summer dress, the warm light that lit her world up from below cast from a source she could never see.

Then the booming footsteps rang through the room and the witch had returned, maybe her home wasn't so bad after all, the noise scared her even now.

But then one day it all changed, a simple nudge and her world spun, hitting the floor with a shatter and spark, an invisible line broke and Meryl felt air in her lungs again, her voice screeched as giant soft fingers plucked her up, a giant face full of worry shushed and soothed her, apologising for breaking her little meadow.

She knows all her woes and problems, Meryl sobbed in the witch’s hand, it was the only life she had left, the woman had told them all about their families and friends outside their cosy shelf, she couldn’t even cry finding out her parents were now gone, her brother has moved on and started a new family, no one remembers Meryl now, a sad little girl who vanished with no trace, she hasn't aged a day since she tragically went missing.

Meryl looked in the small doll mirror, her face so young, it was like porcelain, the world had moved on without her, there was no other word to describe it but magic, she expected any day now to be placed back into the amber, to return to her world she had become familiar but sadly it wasn’t possible, the effect had done its work, - she wasn’t a human anymore the towering woman had explained, more a laminated image, she was ‘cured’, but she was welcome to stay on the shelf and help her friends, it gave her a newfound purpose she readily agreed too, binding her as a familiar to the impossible being she once bullied.

And life continued on, no one paid heed nor notice of the tiny inchling that worked the top of the ever dusty fireplace, she kept busy, she kept a smile on her face as the woman would smile down at her soothingly.

Little Meryl was not much use to her giant mistress, so she spent most of her day pottering about on the shelf with her tiny broom and ladder, she'd dust around the little cubes smiling and waving, giving her polite one sided company to her friends old and new, she remembered Jenny, she had been her best friend but there she lay in knight's armour, her lips quivering at the plastic dragon looming overhead, mistress told her it was because she was always so hot headed, it fitted her temperament well they both agreed.

The tiny familiar hoped Jenny still saw her as a friend, allowed to move between the clear see-through worlds, she one day hoped to gain the courage to ask her mistress to break Jenny free of her battle, just her, just so she could tell her how she always felt for her but she cowed, maybe another day she kept telling herself, what was another day between the endless that lay ahead of her?

She didn't know the latter girls but she chose to talk and introduce herself to them just as eagerly, Shannon, Bessie and Daisy, they were older than her but she saw no reason not to be kind.

They were older than her, quite clearly fitted in beautiful cloths and gowns, posed in beautiful archways and flowing meadows, she wished she could've grown up like them, but she knew she'd always look like this her mistress told her, but envy was not becoming of a familiar.

She would show them the dust and hairs she collected, her little trinkets she collected she'd show off them knowing they couldn't feel it, but they could at least see it, maybe it would make their day a little nicer, if only she had been a little bit nicer all those years ago a flicker of sadness hit her, but her smile returned and with her brush she resumed her task with gusto, never faltering at her second chance.