No one really knows what path they’ll take in life. Some people are born into nothing and become the next big thing, some go from riches to rock bottom and others just live a simple contempt life. The secret is to know how to go with the current of life and adapt to your surroundings, lest you be lost in the ocean that we all swim in. For Chris it was less an ocean that he found himself swimming in but more like a pool, a big fizzing pool of potent alcohol. The ripples and waves pulled him under as the towering plastic container jerked causing him to collide with the sides of the plastic walls or the stem of the straw that was floating around the liquid like a demonic tendril, rising from the pitch black depths of a doomed sea. This was not right, he shouldn’t be here and he knew it, but nonetheless he found himself as part of a simple beverage that was not destined to last much longer. The music grew quiet and both the air and the liquid slowly cooled as the container he was trapped was taken outdoors. A thud sent a shock wave through the cup as it was placed down once again causing the mixture of cola and vodka to drag him down once again. He struggled to find his bearings but fought to reach the surface again, breaking through will as much force as his tiny form could muster and glance up at what loomed above.

Far above him a face beamed down, smirking at his struggles in her cup. Lindsey couldn't help but laugh at how pathetic he looked as he tried to not drown in her drink while she sat very comfortably on a wooden back garden bench. This was possibly the first sign to Chris as to how far he had fallen, how worthless he now was. He was literally trying not to drown in a cup that was small enough to fit in a hand. He continued to stare up at her near godly form as she sparked up a cigarette the size of an Apollo launch module before taking a long drag and exhaling with an audible sigh.

“Only idiots get shrunk hey?” She mocked down at him, echoing back his own words. She leaned to the straw and took a sip, her cheeks tightening as she pulled the toxic mixture into her mouth. For Chris it was far less pleasurable as the liquid levels dropped slightly thanks to the strong pull form below. “And if they can’t prove their worth then they deserve what they get if i remember right” She continued before once again leaning in for another sip. Though she was only taking small amounts at a time Chris couldn't help but feel unnerved, even more so thanks to the fixed stare she had on him as she drank. It wasn’t a cruel or cold stare as such, but definitely an intense stare of someone deep in thought. “No more games, nice and quick, I promise” she muttered down at him. Her left arm rose, lifting the straw out of the liquid; the droplets from above dripped down making the surface of the liquid once again uneasy. Though either through luck or experience Chris managed to stay a float. After steadying himself slightly he looked up at Lindsey once again as she reached for the cup, this time raising it to her face. Her locked gazed slowly disappeared as the top of the plastic walls obstructed her eyes in its ascent higher and higher into the air until only her smuggly expressed mouth was in view. she whispered down to him in a cold breathy voice, “bottoms up...”.

The pink glossiness of her top lip met the top of the cups rim leaving a small gap, or to Chris a sizable flood gate for the liquid and him to pass though. Her breath felt like cold faint gusts of wind and smelt like smoke and ash; like the first icey draft you might feel as you enter a decrepit crypt, though in this unconventional case death meets the prisoners of this graveyard after they enter as opposed to before. Her bottom lip jerked the cup as it made contact with the other side of the rim and held itself firmly in place so as to not spill a single drop of her drink. Then, slowly plastic prison began to tilt bottom side up as her head leant backwards. The drink flowed down the slope and through the open maw and into what could only be described as an all consuming dark abyss that followed. Chris tried as hard as he could to fight the current but it was no use, he was being dragged back further and further…

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One week earlier...

Earth, a blue ball full of liquid and dirt. We call it home and have done for a long time! We have lived through many ages as humans but for the most part we were at odds as separate nations at war and conflict. No more do we negotiate for peace and sanctuary, but instead forge it as the N.W.G.G. Now you may be wondering, “Where do i come into this ?”, Well the answer is right here, right now!

Now begins the most important time of your life! To prove that you can be a trusted member of society. Today you begin final tests to prove you have what it takes to help continue to make our world great!

The words of the orientation video droned on in the background as Chris day dreamed away. His hands rested on his cheek, his eyes glazed and his mind casted away into yet another fantasy realm to release his boredom. This wasn’t unusual behaviour really and had been a terrible habit of his for almost his entire life, anything pointless or boring weren’t worth his full attention after all. His thoughts were broken for a moment as he shifted in his seat. Out of the corner of his eye sat the many textbooks given to each person as part of the test programme. These books weren’t your standard curriculum based text book that you’d see in high school however, these were all books on politics, law, careers, economy and much more. The professors who roamed the auditorium said that they were everything a person needed to learn the world from the comfort of a classroom, not that anyone bought it. Chris had read through each book at least once but rarely found himself revisiting most of them unless he really had to, he never was much of a study buff to begin with. Despite this he did find himself intrigued by one book, The complete History of the N.W.G.G. 

The New World Global Government (N.W.G.G) became the seat of global power almost 70 years ago as the second world war drew to a conclusion. A world at war suddenly became a series of united nations signing papers to combine into one power that seated itself atop a wounded globe. Many thought that we could never really recover from the scars of the war and that we had lost too much to just join hands and unite. Many brave souls were lost due to the horrific acts of each side of the battle making the bloodlust in the hearts of each nation strong. But over time an otherwise fractured population healed, as for the first time in history the power that be worked to seek nothing but lasting peace and not dominance. Peace, however, is a hard thing to maintain in any society.

Though it seemed the days of war were over, the infectious ways of the lesser members of society still plagued each country. Crime, unemployment, debt, disease, overpopulation; all of these issues grew larger still as the N.W.G.G struggled to find a solution. As a result, various research groups and institutions were hired to look into new ways to enrich and maintain the peace in society. One of these was the aptly named future enrichment institute (F.E.I). They suggested something no one else has thought of experimenting with, let alone implementing into a societal structure. Every person has a dormant gene that generally goes relatively unnoticed their entire life. This loose bit of code in the human DNA was dubbed “the shrinking gene”. Every so often throughout history a phenomena has occurred in which a segment of the planet's population experiences an activation in the gene which results in these people shrinking. Due to this a new species of Sub-humans known as “shrinkies” became recognized. Over the years they grew in numbers and today the shrinky population greatly outnumbers the human population, it’s just a shame that the world and the law see them as lesser beings. The F.E.I successfully managed to isolate this gene to a point where natural activation was impossible and it could instead be manually triggered, and it was through this manual control that their plan came into effect.

It started small, Convicts first. Once they were shrunk they were allowed freedom as a tiny. Unfortunately humankind found shrinkies to be very fun to toy with, extremely useful slaves and even a tasty snack. Soon prisons no longer existed and the fear of being shrunk caused crimed to rapidly fall. Eventually the idea of crime became something people didn’t really fear anymore. Once this milestone was achieved the F.E.I proposed phase 2; Population control. This phase would see the population levels maintained by shrinking a portion of them annually. To determine who was to be shrunk and who wasn’t, a test was developed. Over the course of 4 months every 19-20 year old would endure physical, practical, theory and work based examinations to ensure they could be worthy to society instead of draining its resources. Of course this was met with initial backlash from the public which caused protests and riots...unfortunately riots and protests disrupted the peace and that was illegal and thus the protesters were shrunk. Surprisingly however, through strict implementation over the next few years, the populus did come around to the idea when it became evident that the economy was vastly improved, poverty was decreasing and resources seemed limitless. For the first time in human history the world seemed perfect. And so the new order of the world came into play and has remained ever since.

Chris snapped out of his recollection of the book’s events as the presentation reached its last few minutes before finally ending, allowing the auditorium to be dismissed for the day. The other hundred or so attendees all shuffled in their seats slowly as one by one they began to get up to make way for the exit. Chris followed suit, not wanting to waste anymore time in that place only to be caught in the stream of waddling bodies walking in an organised que across the curved rows and down the one of the sets of steps that linked the stacked seats and desks that filled over half the Hall. After traversing a narrow corridor and passing through the reception of the building he made it to the doors and exited swiftly. His un adjusted eyes were blinded for a moment as he was met by a blast of white day light beaming down from what could only be described as an incandescent blanket of silver clouds, the sheer brightness most likely a product of the bleak gloomy hall he had just been trapped in. “Overcast as usual” he thought to himself as he lamented over the consistent dull weather the town seemed to be famous for, obviously this was an exaggeration of sorts. Chris reached into his pockets and as if in a western shootout swiftly drew a box from his pocket, popped it open in one fluid movement and inserted a fresh cigarette into his mouth. You could call it a skill or maybe a talent of his but regardless no one could deny that though not the strongest or the brightest Chris was certainly dexterous with his hands, and somewhat proficient in the art of sleight of hand.

He lit the cigarette as he strode across the car park until he made it to his friend's car before proceeding to assume a leant up position against it as he waited. He gazed into the distance, across the sizable car park and back at the building he had just exited; a grey lifeless cube surrounded by smaller snake-like hallways that linked the various classrooms and offices. Calling them classrooms was a bit of a stretch as for the past few months they seemed more like test chambers. The words Future enrichment institute could be seen plastered along the top of the large cube building in the center of the site. Its eeriness made Chris shudder as he took another drag of his cigarette. He wasn’t alone in this sense of creepiness and dread that he felt as he looked on at the building. Generations of 20 year olds all experienced the same thing as him. He thought about all he was taught regarding the institute as he gazed at the sign in his trance. For someone who wasn’t much of a history buff he couldn’t help but recall it all vividly, afterall the N.W.G.G and the F.E.I were the biggest pillars that held up humanity. He lingered in his headspace for a while longer before a voice called out to him.

“My Dude!!!!” Shouted the energetic male voice in the distance. It was the unmistakable voice of Troy, the token fuck boy of the group. Obviously this title was somewhat in jest, but it was no secret that Troy has a way with words and women. It’s not hard to see why thanks to his honey brown eyes, chiseled jaw and side swept black hair, hell he even wore dinner shirts and suit jackets casually as if he didn’t already ooze style. “I’m playing taxi today then” he laughed as he pulled his car keys out of his pocket. Chris sighed and shook his head

“Come on man, you know Lindsey cant stand me”, upon finishing that sentence he looked past Troy to see the other 3 group members walking toward them. “Speak of the devil”

They still were some meters away but it was clear who was who. To the left was Billy, standing at 6’4” he was easily the tallest member of the group but yet somehow he was also the skinniest, his red head of hair and bushy ginger beard could be seen for miles as if they were a flame atop a light. Troy believes that Billy is the direct descendant of some kinds of scottish highland giant, this hasn’t yet been proven. Next to him was his girlfriend Lindsey. She was a stunner, hourglass figure, straight black hair that touched her shoulders and deep dark eyes that could trap even the strongest willed men. All of this was dragged down however by her demoness personality, according to Chris anyway. Lastly there was Tilly, the token blonde air head of the group. She was only 4’8” and was by far the most sensitive one of the group. They all would protect her with their lives.

“Best behaviour boy, I mean it, no shit” Troy said pointing the tip of his key at chris.

“What do you mean? I didn’t start it last time” He responded in a high pitch tone of surprise and astonishment “or the time before that” he added as he opened the car door and got in.

Troy stifled a laugh as he too got in “Then I trust you won’t start anything this time”.

The 3 stragglers made their way to the car parked next to the troys, all making gang gestures as they walked past the window.

Troy lowered his window before shouting “To my house losers” as he started his engine.   

Lindsey tutted “We all live on the same street, what does it matter?”, Chris shook his head slightly, typical Lindsey response if ever he heard one. Troy however was unphased and continued as normal.

He reversed out of his sport and revved his engine before shouting “ONWARD!!!” as he sped out of the car park and off into the distance.

Chris watched the world pass by as the car raced through the town, the building blurring into one as he once again zoned out. The white noise of the road became the soundtrack to his thoughts and for a moment he considered what was happening in his life, and he didn't like how fast it was moving at all.

Troy tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the car waited in a long que of traffic coming up to the next junction. Rush hour had officially begun. The only thing that blocked out the symphony of car engines was the sub-par music selection of the local radio station, a subjective opinion obviously but one both Chris and Troy silently agreed on. Chris pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and removed one from the pack, winding down the window with his other hand in the process.

“I don’t remember ever saying you could spark up in here” Troy muttered as his eyes shifted towards his ill mannered friend.

Chris sat silently for a moment, waiting for Troy to show a sign that he was only messing with him...he wasn’t. “Seriously man? We’re deadlocked in traffic and we have the rail crossing to contend with, surely you can let me have one” He argued, cigarette still in his mouth and lighter ready in hand.

Troy’s composure remained the same as he edged the car slightly more forward in time with the rest of the traffic. “I suppose you’re going to help me clean all the ash from the passenger seat then aren’t you? You know, like you haven’t, all the other times”, Troy did make a good point. It wasn't a brilliant car by any means, but his little three door Kia was his first car and he was damned if he was about to let it become a glorified ashtray.

“I don’t remember you ever asking me to help, I would have been more than happy too” Chris fired back, as to not be defeated but more in an effort to satiate his addiction.

Troy’s first response was a degrading laugh, “Considering I clean my car before 11am on a weekend and you never seem to surface until at least lunch? No pal, I have never asked” he added, turning his head briefly to look Chris in the eye.

Chris considered defeat for a moment but raising the pack of cigarettes up toward Troy, shaking it slightly in a suggestive attempt. “Cigarette my lord” He replied in a very poor french accident. Troy sighed before taking one of the slender white sticks and placing it between his lips.

 “I swear to god this isn’t becoming a fucking habit” Troy huffed in a tone of both annoyance but also of humour. “Light?” he asked, prompting Chris to lean over with his lighter to ignite the cigarette before lighting his own.

They both took a deep drag and exhaled in an audible sigh. Though they seemed happy go lucky they both knew that the coming week would not be easy by any means. It was something all of them knew really, not just their little friend group but everyone their age; their actions right now will literally shape the way their lives unfold. It was a lot of stress for anyone to handle for sure. Troy took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Are you not getting tired of the shit? With Lindsey?” He asked, fairly intrusively.

“Fuck me! Where did that come from?” Responded Chris in a clear state of shock from the inquisition.

“Well…you two used to be tight as fuck, now you both seem to bicker and drag shit down….Whats the deal man?” he continued to ask as the car crawled even further.

Chris thought about not answering as they slowly slid further, but he couldn’t just leave Troy hanging for an answer like this. “I don’t really know... we used to be like brother and sister, then one day she fucking hates me! I don't even know.”. There was a considerable silence following his answer, like there was nothing that could really be said.

Troy shook his head, “You both need to talk. No ego, no righteous bullshit, just sit down and talk to each other like two normal adults.”

“Normal? Me? Her? Fuck no, we don’t do normal anymore” Chris responded, looking out of his window at the pedestrians that were passing by at quicker than the cars were moving. “I just wish she wouldn’t look down on me all the time. I try to be cool but she seems to get off on trying to make me feel small."

Chris' stare was broken by a sudden slapping noise only to turn and see Troy looking dead at him with his open palm on his leg. “Then just talk and you can both grow up!” he snapped before looking back at the road. Chris did consider responding back in protest, but his words never made it past his tongue. He knew Troy was right and he hated that fact. They both remained relatively quiet for the rest of the journey, partly out of boredom, and part awkwardness.

It wasn’t until the car was practically pulled onto the driveway that the silence was broken. At first it was only a sigh that's sole purpose was to grab Chris’ attention, but soon it was followed by some words of reconciliation. “Look man” he murmured in a softer tone, “I know you’ve tried, hell we all have,” another sharp sign came from the chambers of his nostrils as he struggled to piece together what he was desperately training to say.

As awkward as he already felt Chris couldn't hold back anymore. “You don’t need to explain yourself T," he interjected in a more assertive tone than what Troy was projecting. “I get it, I do. We’re all moving forward in life and we need each other now more than ever,” He continued on, not really having a particular end goal with the point he was trying to make, “I’d do anything for you, all of you...even Lindsey.” His final words caught even himself off guard as they left his lips.

“I know man, we’ve got you all the way to the end too," Troys response seemed more optimistic than realistic, his voice higher pitch and almost childlike as he proclaimed his and everyone else’s in the groups brother and sisterhood to each other. Regardless of this fact it seemed to ring right with Chris and made him feel much easier. They both shared an intimate look with each other, one of respect and nothing more. Chris and Troy had practically grown up together since day one.  Troy was a single child and Chris grew up with only a sister, so they were both the brothers that they needed for each other, through and through.

Chris scratched the back of his head before rolling his eyes to the side. He looked at his watch briefly, assessing the time, “I’m going to quickly run to mine and change before the others arrive.” he lazily announced. In truth he just wanted an exit from that situation. Though the words of wisdom and the familiar kinship was a pleasant notion is never seized to become nauseating after a while. “You cool with that?” he asked not to feel rude.

Troy hummed and nodded before turning round to face his own house. “Don’t be too long, they won’t be far behind." his words faded ever so slightly as his steps took him closer to his door.

Chris followed suit and turned to walk to his own house. It wasn’t particularly far, in fact it was quite literally across the street from Troy. His right hand slid itself into his jacket pocket removing his keys as his legs unenthusiastically dragged themselves across the tarmac of the roach splitting the peaceful little street in two. He glanced to the side for a moment wondering if by chance he would glance Billy’s car emerging from the distance much like the silhouette of a stallion emerging from the sinking evening sun, but no such sight appeared. He wasted no time unlocking the front door and making his way inside the house he had called home for many years prior. It never really changed in all that time either. Sure the wall had been painted a new and richer shade of grey from time to time and maybe the floors had gone through some changes as tiles become laminate wood and that became some generic marble look alike, but at its core home would and will always look just like home to him.

“Mother? Rachel? I’m home!” he announced to what might just be an audience of dust mites and corner hidden spiders. He stood still for a few moments as he waited for a possible response.

“Mums not here! She's working ‘till 7 again!” Bellowed back the voice of his younger sister Rachel.

A small grunt rumbled in his chest at this response. It wasn’t unusual for his mum to work late and it was something that both Chris and Racheal were very accustomed to thanks to years of this habit, but nonetheless it always seemed to get under Chris’ skin a bit. Ever since his father had passed away nearly 10 years ago his mother and himself had been very distant. He chose to live a faster for carefree life, while she worked long and hard to provide for her children. Now Racheal and their Mother were almost like sisters in some ways as despite Racheal being 3 years younger than Chris she was always treated like an adult for a long time. In a way it was sweet to see them both making the most of life with each as not just mother and daughter but the best of friends, but to Chris it was a sweetness that never failed to become bitter to him. Maybe it stemmed from jealousy or maybe even some deep hidden grief for his father, regardless he always had a slither of resentment at the fact that if there was a favourite child...it wasn’t him.

He didn’t waste too much time swimming in his own thoughts and made his way up the carpeted staircase that sat to the left front door. His footsteps were silenced by the blush cream coloured carpet as he ascended up to the second level of the house. He looked left down the hallway towards the door of his room before slowly walking towards it. The narrow walkway showed a clear lack of lighting minus the slight beam that was shooting out of the crack in Rachel's room. Her music could be heard faintly through the door and though Chris knew he had no business entering he found himself peaking in. Rachel was laying on her bed facing away from the door as she typed away on her laptop, her black skinny clad legs swung in the air if only to exaggerate her carefree nature. Chris gently knocked on the door and met me back with a melodic “Coooome in!”

He did as instructed and slid through the crack as he desperately did not want to disturb its current position. Rachel closed for the laptop and rolled over to face Chris more directly, her grey and black checkered top getting slightly twisted in the process. She smiled at him and jiggled her head side to side causing her the pastel pink locks that hung from the bottom of her beanie swing along with her. “New hair?” he asked, unaware of the initial colour change.

She cocked her head to the side and smirked “Same hair! New colour.” she responded. She seemed visibly happy with her response, though Chris rolled his eyes and grumbled in slight annoyance. “You like?” She asked as she began to sit up.

“It would suit me, but it works for you” He quipped back, hoping to hit her back with a blow equal to hers.

“Bit weak bro, big oof incoming” She giggled back at him. Chris simply shrugged and shook his head, this wasn’t a war he was ready for. Rachel may not have seemed like much with her cute features, blue eyes and short frame but man she was a master of words. In Fact she was a bit of a genius in her own right. Top grades in math and english, wizz at science and proficient in music, you could consider her to be the very definition of a model student.

Chris looked around the room for a moment, it wasn’t often he entered so it always looked somewhat unfamiliar to him. He looked back at Rachel who was now swaying in time to her music, change in the house of flies by the Deftones, Chris knew it well. “You seem to be in a good mood.” he said as he continued to watch her rhythmic sways.

“You would be if you found what i found,” she responded, looking over at the glass on her night stand. Chris followed her gaze and stepped forward to get a better look. He squinted but eventually the contents became clear. Sat there, naked and huggled at the bottom of the glass was the shivering form of a little woman, she couldn’t have been much bigger than half an inch.“Spotted two of them just strolling along in the kitchen earlier so I scooped them up!” She had a massive grin on her face and jiggled excitedly on her bed. A soft hum could be heard in her throat and no sooner than the noise began, she leaned forward towards the glass and extended her hand, finger splayed in all directions as the wrapped around the glass. Her arm extended out with the glass at the very end before she spun on her bed and held it out to Chris. “Want it?” She asked as she held the glass closer to his face.

Chris looked inside. The woman was on her hands and knees, perhaps trying to catch her balance and not throw up after being thrown around the glass at near rocket force as his sister swung her arm. She looked up at him as she felt his shadow cast on herself. Though her features were minuscule to him it was obvious she had been sobbing a great deal and that she was currently shouting up to him, perhaps for mercy. Chris couldn’t tell what she was saying and most likely didn’t want to know either, even though she was a shrinky he never liked the sound of the begging, it was sometimes a bit too much. “I'm good...thanks,” he said, eyes still fixed upon the women as her screams grew louder.

The glass withdrew and before Chris could even object the contents was being tipped out onto Racheal’s palm. The glass was returned to the nightstand once more and with her hand now free, she plucked up the women with her thumb and forefinger. She brought the shrinky eye level and stared at it for a moment, really trying to get a good look at the creature that was fighting for its life between nothing more than a teenage girl's finger tips. “Sorry little things,” She cooed, “It’s a good job we’re not going to end up like this, ay?” Her question lingered with an air of rhetoric as her hand began to lift up over her head. Chris was in a trance, it was almost like some form of morbid curiosity had gripped him and was holding him in place as he watched his sisters movements. Her head tilted back and her eyes slowly sealed themselves shut, her mouth failing to hide her grin. “At least I won’t anyway.” she seemed to whisper as the grin relaxed into what could only be described as a cold expression. Then the inevitable happened, Rachels jaw relaxed and loosened. The screams from the women were now clearly audible even across the from where Chris was standing. Her maw continued to open wider and Rachel let out a soft “aaaaaaaaah” noise as if to taunt the poor creature further. Without a second moments of hesitation the teens fingers opened and the tiny, insignificant speak of a woman seemed to fall in. No sooner than it hitting her tongue did her mouth seal shut. She gently placed her hand on her throat and without a moment to waste a wet gulping noise echoes from the soft chaper the shrinky was now being forced through. She traced it all the way down, humming as it slid. “Oh yea, hit just the right spot.” she giggled to herself.

To Chris the end result of the spectacle seemed anti-climatic, like the grand ending should have meant something more but it ultimately didn't, it was nothing more than a girl enjoying a snack. He couldn’t help but imagine what it was like; the warm wet tongue on his back, the smell of her breath, the tight squeezes of her throat as her body dragged him deeper, hell even the sheer volume of her melodic feminine voice as she towered above him like a goddess. The thought of being that poor woman, trapped in an 18 year olds stomach in total pitch black with the constant sound of churning and the beat of a heart as company. How long could you live like that without losing your mind? Burning, crying, screaming and seemingly forgotten forever. He looked at Rachel who was leaning back on her bed and patting her stomach. He did feel an air of awkwardness as he watched her enjoy the sensation of a living creature fighting her body, “I think i should make a move, got to see troy and all.” he announced to her, as if he needed her approval to leave.

“Oh, Okieeee” she sang back to him, still looking at the stomach she had just been patting, “I think i should get more of these things anyway.” She added.

Chris went to leave but paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder he shot Rachel a confused look. “I thought you found two?” he asked in a puzzled voice.

Rachel's eyes widened and a look of surprise appeared on her face as her legs crossed. “Did i?” she murmured. Her legs tightened and her surprised look turned to embarrassment.

Chris burst out laughing as his brain finally added the information together. “You gotta be joking! Really? There?” he continued to laugh.

Rachel shot up and flew towards Chris, trying as hard as possible to shoved him out of her room, but his size and strength was too much. “Stop laughing! Fucking jerk what does it matter” She continued to snap at him as he shuffled through the threshold of the door, taunting the entire way. The second he was out of the room Rachel slammed the door shut leaving Chris back out in the dark hallway once more.

“Have fun” He shouted through the door as he began walking to his own room but was met back with a blunt and simple “Fuck you”.

The journey to his door was a small one, but the headspace he found himself walking through was much longer. Sure laughing at what just happened was easy enough in front of Rachel but something didn’t sit right with him. His cute, harmless little sister, someone who had always seemed so innocent to him, literally devoured a living woman and had another tiny person shoved somewhere arguably worse. It wasn’t until just now that he even knew his sister was fond of this kind of behaviour and with this knowledge planted firmly in his head he had to ask himself a question, How many have already found their way into her stomach? His head shook from side to side as he cleared the thought, it’s not like she was the only one in the world to do this. It was normal, right? The truth is, though Chris isn’t the biggest lover of shrinkies, he has never intentionally killed one. He never shared the love and pleasure everyone else seemed to get whenever they dominated the pathetic things, so instead just lived a life of someone with an indifferent opinion. All that said he still would never join the “Friends of shrinkies” or any of the social justice groups that protested the oppression of shrinkies, that was way too far for even him.

With both his physical and mental destination reached he opened his own bedroom door, sliding in like a breeze and closing it as gently as he opened it. Stretching his arms over his head, he walked over to his closet. As far as he was concerned his jeans were fine to wear, but his shirt definitely needed changing. He peered inside trying to decide what to wear. He definitely did need to put on any of his retro 80s style shirts that only he actually likes, and he certainly didn’t feel like wearing a band top or a graphic tee. He sighed before pulling out a generic black top along with a grey hooded jacket, “Casual it is.” he muttered as he began to take his top off.

His bare chest was met with the cool air of his room which provoked a slight shiver. Goosebumps began to appear on his slender form as he walked towards his bed. He stopped for a moment, catching himself in the mirror near his door. Chris wasn't small by any means; broad shoulder, toned arms and a slightly chiseled chest, but there was no escaping the fact that he was built quite skinny. He didn’t hate his body, but compared to someone like Billy or Troy, he did sometimes feel inferior thanks to Troy's much more defined body or Billy’s compensatory height. The thought was quickly shaken from his head as his phone buzzed in his pocket, prompting him to pull it free and take a glance. A simple message from Troy reading “Get yo ass in gear boi” followed by a winking face. Another trademark grunt rumbled from Chris as he threw his phone onto his bed and quickly put his top and hoodie on. He took a moment to look at his hair in the mirror, a nice swept back do still remind almost untouched on his head. A smile slapped itself on his face at this thought, if there was anything Chris truly loved about himself, it was his hair.

Ready to roll, he thought to himself as he grabbed his phone from the bed and made his way to the door. As he passed Rachel's room he gave the door a knock, “Heading out, catch ya later pink. ” he hollered to her, but no response was heard as he bounced his way down the stairs. With momentum still in his legs thanks to his swift descent he slid to the front door and nearly burst out of it. It couldn’t be helped, a mundane day was always fixed by a few drinks and good company, Lindsey included. So with this thought firmly in his head and a good vibe brewing in his body he made his way to Troys.

The chiming of the doorbell stirred the house to such a degree that even Chris could hear the chaos from outside. The rumbling sound grew louder until the door burst open as if some hulking creature was trying to rip it off of its hinges, except in this case the hulking monster was the slightly less monstrous Till.

“Chrissy!!!!” she shouted, throwing her arms up into the air, her hands lost to the oversized hoodie she had obviously stolen from Billy or Troy.

Chris met her open arms with a big hug, lifting her off the ground as they embraced each other. She did not protest this, in fact she saw these kinds of things as one of the perks of being the smallest of the group. He gently lowered her back to the ground, freeing her from his bear-like grip. “Gonna lead me in short stuff?” he asked, giving her a cheeky grin.

Till shot her hand up as she pulled the all consuming sleeve down, revealing a soft feminine hand. With his claws free she grabbed his arm and began pulling him into the house. “We’re all sitting out back! And it's Miss Short stuff to you!” She laughed back at him as she continued on her mission to deliver Chris to the rest of the group.

It was a short journey, but being dragged by someone with such a high difference and an inhumane amount of strength was enough to give Chris’ shoulder an ache he would rather have not endured. Passing through the back door and onto the patio revealed a circle of chairs around a fire pit, three of which were taken by Troy, Billy and Lindsey.

“It’s now a full house!” announced Tilly in an effort to alert the rest of the group to Chris’ arrival, which was successful in at least making Billy cheer. She finally let go of his arm, freeing him from her vice grip before skipping to her own chair next to Lindsey who had not yet looked up from her phone.

Chris shuffled forward looking to the flames of the pit in front of him, “Wow, these cult meetings have really downgraded, not even a pentagram this time?” He mocked as each member of the group sat with their dreary hoodies over their head.

“Its an unintentional dress code, but a welcome surprise no?” Said Billy in defence of everyone's lack of individual fashion.

“I’d say it's more of a result of there only being like 2 good clothes stores in this town for us to shop from,” Troy added before taking a swig of his bottle. “I wouldn’t be surprised if all of our wardrobes looked the same.”

Lindsey let out a very unlady-like snort, “Yea i bet you have a few of the same dress and skirts as me.” she laughed. The rest of the group joined her, minus Troy, he had pride to defend.

“I prefer to take womens clothes off, not put them on.” He quipped back.

Lindseys faced scrunched as she frowned before she let out a simple “Ew”. Her eyes met with Chris who was still standing amongst them. “There's a chair there for you." She pointed her bottle towards the empty seat next to Troy, “Assuming you’re staying.”

Any ordinary day Chris would have countered her snide remark, but Troy was not about to let that happen as he patted the seat with his palm in what was most likely a hint to “Behave”. Biting his tongue he made his way to the now infamous seat, dropping down on it like a tonne of brick. He wasn’t even there a second before an open bottle was being waved in his face. The hand connected belonging to none other than Billy the human mountain.

He accepted the bottle and showed his gratitude with a simple “Cheers buddy” as he went to take his first swig. Billy simply nodded back at him. Anyone who knows Billy well will know 2 facts, one is that his name is actually William, and two that he is a man of few words. Now that's not to say he wont talk because that couldn’t be further from the truth, he just only speaks when it's necessary to him. This personality quirk was most likely why every person who knew him always believed him to be one of the most laid back people on earth, or as their old history teacher used to say “A master monk in the art of zen." Maybe it was this reason as to why his relationship with Lindsey came as a total shock to the group when they started dating a few months back. If the phrase opposites attract then this never rang truer than will Billy and Lindsey because whereas Billy was the water flowing around the rocks, Lindsey more the waterfall that followed. She was intense, emotional, opinionated and definitely used a lot more words than her much calmer partner. Despite hers and Chris’ current relationship, Chris knows deep down that she is an amazing person. It was only a few years ago that they were the best of friends and would literally fight battles side by side, he just wished he knew what changed between them. He misses those days with her, but trying to build that back seems impossible with how she is now.  

The evening turned to dusk as time continued to pass. Bottles began to collect around the chairs as they all talked about life, the universe and everything in between. Tilly told everyone about the new car her mom had gotten her but she wasn’t allowed it until after the test, Billy told them all his plans to travel after he passes his test, though it didn’t seem like Lindsey was too keen. Everything seemed calm until Tilly innocently asked one simple question, “How do they Shrink you?” The group all looked at him silently, like he had just asked a stupid question.

“Looks like someone slept through a few major classes.” Billy chuckled.

She held her hands up in the air causing the slack of the oversized sleeves to flop back down her wrist, “Hey! It was just a question! You never hear of anyone resisting getting shrunk, but they know it's going to happen right?”

“That's because they don’t know they will shrink, silly.” Chris finally weighed in.

Lindsey let out a soft laugh before finishing Chris’ point. “We were taught this in school,” She let out a small sigh before continuing, “Everyone is given a pill on the last day, some are fakes, others trigger the S-gene after a few hours. Hence why people shrink all over the place and at random times."

It was clear that though she was slightly drunk, Tilly was trying her hardest to take all this in. She nodded to herself before gasping, “Wait! That means people might shrink during Troy's party!?”

The group all groaned again. Not out of annoyance as her confusion was admittedly cute, but it was odd how someone who could tell you the complete run down and history of the fashion industry as well as create her own clothing can be so thick sometimes. Troy leaned forward with a smug expression, “Bingo! A party with tinies provided without spending a penny or breaking a sweat."

Billy laughed at him, shaking his head in the process, “You do know that most of us are going to bring our own like we do every other time, you're just trying to justify being cheap." His accusation left Troy gob smacked.

“How dare you sir,” He exclaimed in an old fashioned british accent, rising from his as he spoke. “I provide the finest drink and venue this side of town!”

“Oh be quite you big dum dum,” instructed till as she yanked on his sleeve, Troy of course did what he was told.

Chris tried to pay attention but he could feel the world in his mind opening up to swallow him. In just a few days he was going to be given a pill that may or may not shrink him down to under and inch tall...and this was normal. No one else was freaking out about this? His heart rate increased as the others chatted in the background. What if he shrunk? Where would he end up shrinking? All these questions boomed in his head until the voice of his sister echoed, “You would be if you found what I found”. His heart began to sink, his breath heavy. Would his own sister know it was him if he shrunk? What about his friends? He knew all too well that they had no issues using and eating tinies, but it would be different if it was him...right?

He looked up and around at his friends who were totally oblivious to the metal torment he was going through. He needed to breathe for a moment, he needed to calm down. He shot up suddenly, startling Troy next to him. “You good?” he asked, concerned at Chris’ erratic behaviour.

Chris was silent for a moment, but composed himself enough to speak, “Yea...just a little nauseous. I’m gonna head to the bathroom." With that said he did just that. Headed to the bathroom. He could hear them mumbling about him as he left, they obviously knew something was off but didn’t want to pry without good cause.

The layout of Troy's house was very similar to Chris’ so getting to the bathroom was almost like second nature. He hurried through the door, closing it behind himself as he tried to catch his breath. Walking over to the sink he tried to stabilize him breathing. “Calm down man, calm down,” he muttered to himself as he turned the cold water on and proceeded to splash his face with it. “Calm the fuck down.” he continued.

“Calm down about what?” Asked a voice from behind. Chris jumped and spun around to see Lindsey stood in the doorway, leaning up against the white wooden frame. “You should really lock the door when you use the bathroom by the way.” he mocked, straightening herself up.

“Maybe you should knock too” he murmured back to her, still reeling from his panic attack episode.

She prepared herself to make another jab at him but something about the expression one his face stopped her. His eyebrows twitched and he was trying his hardest to look directly at her. No matter which way she looked at it something was really bothering him, something that deep down bothered her. One moment they were talking about shrinking, the party and tinies and the next he ran off. “Are you nervous about the party?” She inquired, keeping her voice calm and sombre.

Chris shook his head and frowned, “Of course i'm not, why would that bother me?”

Lindsey shrugged her shoulders, “Well we all know you don't hurt tinies, it's no secret. I assumed tinies being there is an issue." Her logic was sound in some ways, if any was to make a deduction at this point they’d likely guess the same. Chris didn’t reply causing Lindsey to assume she had maybe hit a nerve, “Hey, it's not an issue, if you’re one of them tiny lover types we won't judge, just let us know so we can work with it maybe?” she added in an attempt to reassure.

It was unintentional but Chris let out a scoff, “I'm not one of those lower idiots, i just don’t see any reason to do anything to a tiny,” He mind trailed off, not realising he was deviating from his main problem. “Plus it's not that either, just drop it okay?”

His request was fair, she shouldn’t be prying for information he didn’t want to give but on the other hand was it better to let him fester? At this point no real answer was not good enough.

“Is it that you think you might shrink? Nerves and fear and stuff?” she asked, hoping to have hit somewhere closer to the source.

“You serious? I’m not going to shrink.” He snapped back at her, “Only idiots shrink! I’m not an idiot”.

“I’m not saying you’re stupid, i’m just asking if you’re nervous. Some people get that way.” She once again tried to reassure him.

His eyebrows twitched. She was right in a way, but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to tell her that his sister kinda scares him, that his friends all looked like threats. All of these thoughts just because he didn’t know what was to come in the coming days.

“There’s just a lot to think about, and…..it’s a bit much,” His eyes turned slightly red. His own mind, slightly drunk mind, was weighing heavy on him

It took a lot for her to swallow her own ego and move in to console him, but she did it nonetheless. She couldn’t see him like this, she hated that despite the bitterness between them she still sees the young Chris she used to fight for. His hand touched the side of his face and for a moment he felt calm and peaceful. His eyes and her eyes locked and a rare look of solace and comfort formed on her face. “Don’t worry, after this week is over you wont need to panic anymore, you’ll get through this," she hesitated, she may be trying to comfort him but she also had to be honest about the situation. “And if you do shrink I….we, would keep you safe for sure."

He tried to ignore it but her that last part but it was too much. He swatted her hand of his face and barged past her, “You just had to make a fucking remark, ” he snarled looking back at her for a second. “Had to make a joke of me once again!” this time he shouted.

A hard groan came from Lindsey as she too quickly found herself on her wits end. “I’m so sick of this Chris! Constantly being made to be a villain to you! It’s a fucking joke!” She shouted back at him.

A dumb founded look swept across his face. He was making her a villain? It was as if she was ignorant to everything she had ever said or done to him.

“I make you out to be a villain?” he asked rhetorically, “Fuck you! You were my best friend and then one day you suddenly turned on me! I thought we would have each others backs till then end and you just let all that go,” He paused as he held back the tears behind his that were slowly building, “I’ve been putting up with all the tension and arguments and all that shit because i thought we could go back...but I see that we cant”.

His words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. Everything he was saying was true and she knew it. The past few years she had been trying to distance herself from Chris, forcing herself to hate him. All she was doing was pushing him and making him seem the bad guy, not just to herself but to the group. It was clear that she was getting upset now, slight signs of tears  were forming in her eyes as the situation set in. “I don’t know how to explain it…if you knew it from my point of view you’d understand.” She began to break down as her words left her lips.

Chris could take it anymore. He wasn’t about to argue in a bathroom with someone who wouldn’t work with him. He barged past her and made his way to the stairs. The sound of her soft sobs did cause him to hesitate, but his own anger and arrogance were too strong at this point. Without giving it another thought he walked down the staircase and towards the front door. With each step he could feel the adrenaline pumping harder and harder. A mix of drinking, poor words and a bad mind set and that was it, he was tipped over the edge. So much so he didn’t see the figure stood at the other end of the hall.

“Hey! What the fuck is this shouting?" Troy asked in an authoritative tone, eyes beaming at Chris with a look of scorn.

“Don't get involved! How does that sound?” Chris snapped back at Troy, his voice rough and aggressive. He knew deep down he shouldn’t have said it, but it was too late now.

Troy's eyebrows twitched for a second at Chris’ sudden verbal attack. He barreled his way to Chris and grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie, pinning him against the door, “Who the actually fuck do you think you’re talking to?” He growled at him with a primal rage in his eyes. “I fucking told you to grow up and stop this petty squabble shit, but you just cant listen can you?”

Despite all his best efforts Chris couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Fuck you!” He roared back at Troy, “I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone! It’s my fucking life!” He continues to yell. Each word hit Troy like a barrage of bricks. His pressure increased as he pushed Chris harder into the door, the handle digging into his side more and more though the situation and the alcohol succeeded in numbing the sensation.

They both exchanged looks of pure bloodlust at each other. They were ready to rip each other apart right then and there. It was obvious who would win, Troy was built bigger, more athletic and could genuinely fight better, though this fact didn’t deter Chris. A sorrowful voice called down to them, “Please, stop,” she muttered from the stairs as she slowly and nervously walked down. Lindsey sheepish holding the arm Chris had earlier swatted, perhaps out of pain or maybe just instinctively. “It's not his fault. Please just stop, let's all talk." It was new for Lindsey to show this side of herself, she wasn’t her headstrong impulsive self at this moment, something that threw both Troy and Chris. Tears were rolling down her face but it didn’t stop her from approaching them both and pushing them apart in an effort to stop any violence. She looked at them both, standing between them in hopes that her being there would stop any hands being swung in risk of hurting her.

Troy continued to stare Chris down. He was completely at a loss with him. He warned him not to fight, continued to give him chance after chance and his thanks was to be disrespected in his own home?  “Go home Chris, get some sleep, and sort your shit out.” Troy ordered before turning and storming back into the garden leaving both Chris and LIndsey alone once again.

Enraged, drunk and absolutely fed up with the night, Chris wasted no time and opened the door leaving the house in a temper fuel march. He didn’t say a single word as he got to the edge of the road and it was Lindsey who had to speak first, “Stop! Chris wait! Don’t be a fucking jerk," her voice stlightly uneasy from her emotional moment, but clear enough to hear that she wasn’t speaking out of malice. “You think we don’t care? We do! I do…” she stopped herself for a moment, thinking about what she just said to him. Chris too had stopped for a second, whether it was what she said or how she said it he didn’t really know. “If you walk away now… Don’t fucking come back!” She cried out, “If you want to fix this you come back here now...please”. The sincerity in her voice was noticeable, she was practically begging him to come back to her. He faltered for a second. Her voice, her tears, for some reason he wanted to turn and run back to her, but the earlier remarks of her and the voice of Troy swirled in his head.  

Chris never turned to face her, didn’t give her a single ounce of acknowledgement. He thought hard about what he was going to do next, but in the end he chose to walk. If maybe he had stopped for a second and looked her way, she might have seen his face, the tears running his own cheeks. But the last thing she remembered seeing that night was the anger in Chris’ eyes, not the sadness that followed...not him falling apart bit by bit. He made it to his front door, Lindsey’s red, crying face echoing in his mind over and over again with the harsh final words playing in the background. By the time he looked back, she was gone. “Why do i always do this to you?” he whispered, “I’m sorry."

A dreadful dizziness gripped Chris as his visions swirled into focus. His body felt like rock; dense, heavy and numb. He could see the bare skin of his legs as he looked down at himself; his modesty on full display for anyone who may be looking. The surface he found himself struggling to his feet on was smooth and cold, further inspection showed the circular floor curved up to a cylindrical wall that completely surrounded and towered his shivering form. It wasn’t hard to deduce that the wall was transparent but Chris’ vision was still far from fully focused to make out what existed in the hazey world outside of his prison. The feeling of familiarity gripped the back of his mind as his senses came to terms with his current situation and the nagging sensation that he knew this place screamed in his mind despite the setting seeming alien. Though his thoughts were deep they were quickly broken as a blanket of darkness eclipsed the light from above. Chris turned and looked up quickly to see what could only be described as an abyssal titan looming over his prison and slowly bending down closer to him. Pure instinct began to flow through his body but with nowhere to run and no way to fight the only response he could muster was a pitiful cry as he stumbled back, eyes still fixed on the leviathan lingered in the heavens above. Without warning the prison jerked as the hand of the god collided with the outside of the walls and completely wrapped around the glass room like the tendrils of an eldritch abomination, a description that would maybe have rang true if it had crossed Chris’ traumatised mind as he endured the awe and madness of what was happening.

The floor felt like it was going to tear straight through him as it rose up at speeds Chris could only imagine at this new scale. Light soon returned as the head that once obstructed the source now found itself level with what Chris now understood to be some huge glass jar, her features now very clear and much to his heartbreak and dismay...very recognisable. A soft giggle hummed its way in her throat as she gazed upon Chris’ relatively tiny form before she finally broke the lingering of silence.

“Hi bi...i mean Little bro” she sang down at him, her head tilting from side to side as if she was dancing to the melody of her own words. “Rough day huh” She continued to mock as she watched him become more visibly distressed. Everything from the way he could see the small beads of moisture on her skin to the way here swinging pastel pink hair seemed like flamboyant strands of rope seemed almost incomprehensible, yet it nonetheless presented itself in fall from right before his watering eyes.

A feeling of pure inertia kepted Chris nailed stiff in place as he stared back into the unblinking eyes of Rachel. He always knew her eyes where an unmistakable shades of blue but for the first time in his life he felt intoxicated by the sheer vastness of the sapphire oceans that beamed back at him, it was as if he himself could drown within them like some helpless child lost among unwavering waves. In his head he was screaming and pleading in every conceivable way but it didn’t break the fact that his body was simply betraying him. His sister was some ascended goddess like entity and she terrified him.

“So listen” she said interrupting his screaming brain, “Usually i tease you guys a bit first to get me going but...well you're being boring and i'm getting kinda tired, you know?”. Though her question was rhetorical it didn’t stop the questions in Chris’ head stacking up and boiling to a point where it broke his fear fueled trance.

“Why” he whispered sorrowfully, before repeating it mere seconds later in a blood curdling cry “WHY!”

An audible sigh could be heard from Rachel's nose as she rolled her eyes at the pleas of her now insignificant brother before returning to a melodic sing style response, “We both know I can’t actually hear what you’re saying Little Chrissy”. She leaned back in her bed and made sure she got nice and comfortable, almost satirically so as if to further insult the uncomfortable position Chris was in. “I mean keep screaming, I may not be able to make out the words but it’ll still turn me on” she added before flashing a sly and deceitful grin.

The jar began to tip as her hand turned and in a rather ungraceful fashion Chris found himself plummeting down to a pale surface below him. To Rachel the scene was less dramatic as she watched her tiny brother fall and land unceremoniously below her belly button. “Hey! Do you like this Crop top?” She sarcastically asked, wiggle her hips side to side. He knew she was only doing this to make it harder to get back onto his feet, though now that she mentioned her top he realised he never took notice of her outfit. Not that he could be blamed for an oversight, who would take the time to examine the outfit of a gigantic teen who was scheming something malicious. His frail form stumbled upright for what felt like the 20th time since he awoke and looked up at Rachel's grinning face that shone down beyond the now mountainous valley of her cleavage.

Small vibrations scattered across the surfaces of her skins and she gently shook before he could see her hand silently hover over his head and drop down, landing just behind him without making as much as a tap. He turned around to see what exactly she was doing that took her attention away from him for a brief moment, the answer was apparently the elastic waistband of a pair of designer panties. “Or do you prefer these? White and black is a nice combination right!” she paused her attempts at further humiliation for a second, perhaps to let the situation sink in for him. Chris didn’t, or couldn’t rather, look away from her hand as her thumb hooked the elastic. It was clear what her intention was now and the last thing he wanted to see was the expression on her face before she forced him into a fate he couldn’t escape. “I made sure to pick ones you’d like” she cooed down at him “So make sure you do a good job, okay?”.

There wasn’t any dramatic music or slow motion, just the index of Rachels free hand crashing down on Chris’ pathetic form as it flattened him against her stomach. Then without any hesitation it began to drag him to the opening of her panties growing larger as it was pulled wide open by the other monster of a hand high above him. Small, course, freshly shaven hairs acted as red carpets of sorts to the exclusive area few men if any had ever seen, yet it was doubtful that the same could be said for shrinkies. The dark void beyond was powerful and consuming and before he knew it he was screaming as he passed the threshold and entered the strong musky smelling underwear. The warmth of her nether regions was something Chris couldn’t bear and the idea that he could smell the increasing arousal as he approached the lips of her womanhood was something that bordered madness, especially considering it was none other than his sister’s. Someone he held close to him for comfort in her times of need, someone he loved dearly and would protect to the last minute and the last breath he had. “As you would say, have fun!” she giggled before her thumb finally released the elastic, purposely causing a thunderous snap as it collided with her waist.

Chris shot up in his bed drench in a thick sheen of sweat. His breathing was heavy and his heart was racing like the double kick of some thrash metal song. What the fuck was that was the only words he could seems to conjur up in his tired, confused and frankly startled brain. The effects of the previous evenings drinking was pulsing in his head as he came to terms with the shadowed state of his room. What he had just experienced had felt so vivid and real that he felt like he couldn’t trust his own brain. Leaning back and rotating his shoulders, Chris’ body made an audible crack as he worked the tightness out of his upper abdomen before shuffling back down to a laid potion in his bed. His throat felt like hell thanks to a generous amount of alcohol and a nice shouting match with Lindsey not hours earlier but his head felt even worse. The image of her face with streams of tears working their way down her soft pale cheeks flashed in his mind once more followed by a mental playback of her shouting.

 “If you walk away now… Don’t fucking come back” .

Less than 10 words but each time he recalled them it hurt just as much as the first time he heard them. The idea that it bothered him so much was something he wanted to think was ludicrous but no matter how many times he whispered them lies to himself, the fact remained...it was killing him. Another shuffle vibrated through his body as he turned over and reached for his phone that was charging on his bedside draws, the wire being torn from the device and discarded away onto the floor without a care. Big white digit stating the time 3:24am where the first thing Chris noticed as the screen blasted a beam of light directly into his eyes and nearly blinded him. It turns out that all it takes is a few beers and a generic smartphone to create small scale laser beams. He swiped his thumb on the screen and instinctively tapped the app marked “messenger”. Without delay a list of all his recent conversations popped up along with a simple tab bar at the bottom with different categories and options such as “settings”, “group” and “active”. Chris paused for a second, unsure of what he originally wanted to do. “This is stupid” echoed the nihilistic voice in the back of his brain, though it was met with a defiant head shake before Chris mustered up the will to tap active.

He glanced at the names that appeared; various friends from over the years and so on. He scrolled through the name before one caught his attention, Lindsey Verdell.  No way? She’s actually awake? He thought to himself as he stared at her name. The rhythm of his heart stuttered for a moment like he had just been hit with a sudden shock. His index finger hovered over her name in a slow and unsure manner but eventually it made contact with the screen, opening the conversation tab up completely. There was so much he wanted to type in this moment; sorrowful apologies, bitter defenses and everything in between, but his fingers tapped out a simple “hey”. The ticking of the clock on his desk kept the anxiety floating in the room and his thumb froze over the “send” button. What is she doesn't want to hear from me? What if she is still upset? He squeezed his eyes shut tight in an attempt to silence the wave of what ifs from his mind, too often did his self doubt stop him from doing what he needed, no, wanted to do. It took a lot but he mustered the strength back into his body enough to shoot his eyes back open, but when he looked at his phone her status had switched to offline.

“Fuck sake” he muttered in an annoyed exhale before closing his app and phone down and dropping back on his side table in a slight aggressive maner. Just like many other things he missed the chance to do, the message never did make it to Lindsey. Though the more he thought about it the stupider the idea became, the thought that she would want to hear from him at all was idiotic as far as he was concerned. So with his resolve and conviction all but dead he closed his eyes and attempted to steal back whatever sleep he could.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Making his way down the carpeted steps, Chris shuffled to the kitchen to get himself some breakfast. His body was famished and he definitely needed strong coffee and some good food to kickstart his beaten system. Walking into the kitchen he was greeted to the sight of his robe clad mother who was at that moment nursing her own coffee that sat in a cup marked with her own name “holle” on the side. Now Chris wasn’t the sort to fantasise over his own mother or her apparel but he edged his bets that with it being little past 7am and the fact her long black logs were still messy and tangled, she wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothing under that robe. This fact didn’t bother him too much but he always found himself to be of a more modest nature whereas his mother and sister acted more casually in how they lounge around the house, must've been a girl thing as far as he was concerned.

“Good morning” she greeted between gulps of her coffee. Her eyes didn’t meet his own and was instead fixed on the phone that rested on the middle island counter.

“Likewise” he mumbled back as he made his way to the coffee machine, making sure to waste as little time as possible in getting his caffeine fix.

“Sleep well?”

“Nope”. His reply was short and to the point. It would even be argued he was more interested in dropping two sugars into his drink and stirring it into the dark energy potion than he was talking with his mother at this unnatural hour.

She glanced up for a moment, eyes lazily looking at him as he finished his drink off with a dash of milk, “evidently” she said back. Her tone indicated a slight dislike in Chris’ morning mannerisms, especially his lack of pleasantries.

He didn’t let this fact bother him as he took a sip from his own drink. A deep breath was drawn into his body as if the flow of coffee into his system was literally pumping life into him. No words were exchanged for a moment, just two adults drinking coffee battling out a still and tense silence in a room that didn’t choose to be a war ground.

“Drinking again?” She asked, cutting through the silence as if it had no right lingering.

“Yes” he responded. He didn’t feel like entertaining the way this conversation was inevitably going to go.

Holle tutted, befitting of someone fresh into the age of 46. “A few days time and you’ll be given a rightful place in the world and you decide that drinking all the time is a good example?”, her probing words were meant to bait some form of response out of Chris and he knew it.

“I’m assuming you want to argue now? Or shall we skip to how you wish I was Rachel?” he bit back, his words a result more on previous arguments as opposed to the situation at hand.

Holle stood up and glared straight at him. Her slender form gave no indication of the fact she had 2 children and worked full time; she was lightly tanned, curvy enough to not be classed as petite and her breasts would be enough to catch a man's attention if she wanted. No matter which way you sliced it, Holle was considered what people these days call a MILF. She made her way to the kitchen sink and placed her mug inside before leaning for a moment, shaking her head as she did so.

“I work all day, 5-6 days a week and get respect from only one of my kids? What do you want me to say Chris?” She asked in a breathy tone.

Chris had to stifle a laugh, not out of rudeness but out of pure absurdity of her statement, “You have favorited her since Dad died, don't blame it on me”. He changed his stance from a lean to upright and made his way to the kitchen door. “Besides, you say you work in an office, how hard can it be” He added before he made his way out of the room and towards the stares.

Moving swiftly he made it to the second floor and through the threshold of the doorway to his room, placing his mug down on the top of his bedside table as he moved towards his bed. No hangover would stop the fact that he had to get ready for another day at that god boring “Societal Evaluation center”. So with little more time left to waste he commenced rooting through his clothes collection for something to wear, eventually settling on a pair of black jeans, a white shirt and a dark blue zip up hoodie. It wasn’t until mid way through getting dressed that he realised that getting a lift with Troy was unlikely thanks to last night's transgressions. “Fuck” he murmered to himself as he clawed at his phone frantically. Glancing at the screen showed the time 7:17am. His head hung as he was overcome with a sense of humility and annoyance. He unlocked his device and got ready to text the only person who would be able to help him. The chat marked “Mother” opened up on the screen displaying a series of short back and forth messages between the two, though Chris wasn’t interested in re-reading them right now. He typed out his message and sent it. A simple question reading “What time do you have to leave for work?”, nothing too patronising or demanding. He spent the next few minutes finishing his dress routine and fixing his hair before the phone buzzed with a response. It was opened swiftly thanks to the slight anxiousness lingering in Chris’ chest. His eyes fixed in place as he looked at the response, “Need a lift? Be ready by 8”. A sigh of relief left his body. He typed a simple thanks in response before returning to fixing his hair.

Time passed while Chris finished making himself look presentable for the outside world. His hair styled in a nice, volumized side sweep. He left his room and closed the door gently before making his way down the corridor. Without warning the bathroom door that sat opposite his sisters room swung open with none other than Rachel exiting. She seemed to move in slow motion as she walked past him, her eyes beaming back that same sapphire shade and her lips curled into a soft smirk that now struck differently. It was strange but for a split second he could feel, smell and hear everything he had felt in that nightmare.

“Hey Big bro” She sang up at him as she passed by. “I’ll be leaving shortly after you and mum, let her know for me.” added as she entered her room. She must have not noticed the colour of his face drain as she spoke otherwise she would’ve been prompted to question it. His gaze fixed on her face, the way her lips kept that playful smirk almost matched the way she smiled at him in his dream. The tranced silence persisted as her door shut. He couldn’t break through the tight grip of his chest as the sight of his caring little sister was replaced with the monster in his dream. How long would he see that image before he could look at her again? The fact it still haunted him even in the waking world was enough. He let out a grumble and clenched his fists, fighting back any atrocities that plagued his mind. “It's not real….just your head” he mumbled to himself, trying hard to force his way forward through the metaphorical wall that stopped him earlier. The steps he took next were still slow and uneasy, all thanks to the stupid dream. That wasn't Rachel last night, his mind repeated to itself in a desperate attempt to wipe the fear of his own little sister from his body as he reached the top of the stairs.

His steps thudded down the stairs, meeting his mother at the door. She stood patiently clad in her uniform. A nice three piece ladies suit that consisted of a black skirt that sat just above the knees, a white shirt that fit perfectly around her matured bust and a blazer to finish the already highly professional look. The hazel orbs of her eyes that sat behind a sleek pair of spectacles followed him down each step. “I’m going to get the car ready, can you grab my bag and folder from the table?” she asked him, keys ready in one hand and thermos mug in the other.

He nodded, signalling that they both could briefly part ways. He headed to the dinning room without delay. A black bag and zipped folder full of various files sat on the oval table in the center of the room. It confused him as too why they kept a table that sat 6 people when there were only 3 of them ever in the house and even rarer did all three dine together, but he surmised it was likely down to some inattentive form of complacency on their mothers side. He approached the bag and hung it on his shoulder, his attention then turned to the documents folder that contained god knows what information regarding his mother's mysterious work. Though he knew the prospect was invasive, Chris couldn’t shake the urge to peak inside. He was sure his mother had left the house and was just starting up the car so there was little risk of getting caught after all. Slowly his hand drifted towards the zip of the file holder, his heart racing out of nervous excitement. The tips of his fingers made contact with the metal lever when out of nowhere echoed a high pitched honk from beyond the walls of the house, causing him to jerk suddenly and retract his arm. Holle was obviously getting impatient of waiting for her son to do the simple task of collecting her things and assumed he needed reminding that they both had places to be. He didn’t need any more hints as to hurry his efforts up so without further stalling he picked the folder up and made his way to the door, slamming it shut and locking it tight.

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A tense silence lingered between the two as Holle drove along the winding roads that connected the neighbourhood they lived in to the rest of the nearby civilisation. One of many reasons Chris didn’t particularly enjoy getting lifts from his mother was down to their inability to connect on any human level. But nevertheless did his mother find something to talk about, glancing at him briefly out of the corner of her eye. “What were you shouting about last night then?”

Chris stuttered for a moment, choking on what would have been one of his usual scripted responses thanks to the curveball of an inquiry on his mother's part. “I...I didn’t shout”.

“Well someone was, don't forget my bedroom is at the front of the house”, her face curved into the slightest of smirks at her own response before continuing, “and usually you get a lift with Troy”.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that she picked up on that fact but Chris had still hoped that she wouldn’t have noticed it to be something of notability. “It was just a disagreement, nothing major, don't worry” he replied in a rather unenthusiastic tone. He glanced out of his window in an effort not to meet his mother glances, “anyway why would you care?”

“Of course I’d care” She scoffed back at him. “Look Chris, in a few days you’ll find out your results. You have to be ready for whatever might happen.” Her monologue paused as she turned on to the next road. “And if the worst happens you need to make sure you have people who will keep you safe and look out for you”.

Chris’ brow furrowed slightly at her remarks. “So I wouldn’t be safe at home?”.

Holle widened her eyes briefly and looked at him, completely caught off by his twisting of her words. “I didn..” She paused for a brief moment, allowing her head to catch up and think of the right words to use. “look i know it's no secret that i’ve eaten...or ….used a shrinky more than enough times.” Her justifications sounded as counter productive to her as they must have done to Chris. They both knew that tinies had short lifespans on her watch, but it’s not like that was anything to be ashamed of. It was clear she was at a loss in terms of a response, a fact that Chris knew most likely agitated her greatly,  “You’re thinking too much about this..”

As much as he wanted to protest and find yet another excuse to question his mother loyalties, but he couldn’t find fault in what he assumed to be her mindset. How many times had he watched his friends throw back a tiny without looking at it twice? How often did Tilly ignore the tinies forced to the mercy of her soles as she relaxed in the sun on a scorching summer's day? Or the amount of care Troy took as he tossed tinies into his infamous “night stash”....likely little to none. Not to mention the ways the rest of the world seemed to treat them. All this made his chest deflate as he let out a slow exhale. He couldn’t guarantee safety in any situation really, only the option was who, what and when.

“Besides” Holle cut in, breaking his thoughts for a moment. “You should be more certain on passing and less focused on whether or not i'm going to eat you up or keep you in my night stand” She chuckled in what was most likely a bad attempt at light humour. The car turned on to the final stretch of road before the evaluation center.

Maybe her words were supposed to comfort him to a degree. He should be more sure of his own ability and be looking towards a positive future. But now the thought of his own mother tossing him into her carnivorous maw or keeping him with whatever toy or underwear collection she had plagued his mind. Why did she have to add that bit his head screamed, as if his current nightmares weren’t taxing enough.

The car slowed before pulling up a few yards shy of the carpark entrance. “I’ll drop you here so i can head straight off, i’m sure you can kill some time somewhere”, she said, smiling at him as he opened the door and exited the car. He didn’t respond as he shut the door and walked his way around the rear of the vehicle that was now pulling away from him. She most likely assumed it was out of some form of arrogance or ignorance but in truth he didn’t have a response. Maybe he should tell her he loves her every now and again, but at this point he was so closed off from her that that sentence felt alien to the context. So in the same silence he would grace most of the day he walked on, reflecting his new found feeling of desolation that displayed itself on the face he was pulling his hood up to hide.

It had been almost 5 days since the big fight. Minus glances in the parking lot as they all walked together or the odd sight of one of them entering or exiting Troy's house, Chris hadn’t seen or spoken to any of his friends. Never before in his life had he ever felt this alone, but regardless of his circumstances he still had to attend the final tests at the evaluation centre. For a year they had all been going through various courses, exercises and routines and soon it’ll all pay off. The courses weren’t anything spectacular; basic maths, English and science exams, trial weeks at various workplaces, verbal examinations, hypothetical situation tests, the list goes on. Though despite their relative simplicity they had still nonetheless been gruelling, or at least they were for those that didn’t already excel academically. Those that had proven to be geniuses in their respected fields were awarded half the credit needed to pass the course as well as mentoring in their field, and you bet that the ego and arrogance came with them luxurious free of charge. Ironic that that nerdy was the new popular. Weird artists, science freaks and the book worms lingering in the dim corners of libraries had all of a sudden become the new top dogs, some were even bold enough to torment those who sat on the low achieving line. It was only in recent memory that Chris could recall what he thought was a rather reserved girl threatening her mocker by promising to tie him to her violin and slice him in half with her bow once he shrunk, a comment that shocked a silenced anyone who had been listening.

As gruesome as her promise was at the time it wasn’t anything uncommon to be heard in the travelling crowds entering and exiting the halls of the evaluation centre. And as the past few days rolled over Chris in his new solitary state, each quip and jive thrown between the snakes of the halls only weighed on him more and more. Each and every touture, every single death threat and the faces of everyone capable of thinking such toxic promises weighed on him constantly as the end of the week came.

“Mr Klien?” rang a voice from outside Chris' trance. He jolted up suddenly, startled by the deep tone that caught his attention. He looked up at the figure looming over him. A fairly uninteresting look man gazed back down. The light from the top of the exam hall gave a white outline to the top of his balding head, but what lack of hair was missing from the top was compensated for with the forming of a bear around the lower half of his face. If Chris had to guess from the colour of his beard and the valleys of age forming on the fold of the man's eyes he had to be in his 40s at least, but if any doubt still lingered to that fact the off white colour of a white shirt that had been worn for more years than Chris cared to know was evidence of this. “You have been excused, everyone else has pretty much left.”.

Chris’ eyes scanned the room to confirm this claim and indeed found it to be true. Though not completely empty, there were only remnants of the anxious young adults filtering through the exit points that had not 10 minutes prior had been still and attentive. It baffled him that he was so deep in his thoughts that he managed to miss an ocean of bodies flow around him. “Right” he mumbled in a dreary tone, “sorry, I was a bit distracted sir” He continued, correcting his initial informal response while shuffling himself onto his feet.

“Think nothing of it young man” chuckled back the round-headed senior, whose towering form had been revealed to be a few inches short of Chris’. “Come, I'll walk you out” he continued before leaning in slightly like a child telling a secret “God knows a need for a smoke before I endure tonight's workload”.

The man's comment did succeed in placing the faintest of smirks on Chris’ face as he began walking towards the exit, “they let you get away with that on-site, sir?”.

“Please call me Simon, or at least Mr Vista, I like to keep the formalities for duty hours” He chuckled, picking up pace with Chris as they made their way to the doors of the hall, “As for your question, they haven’t cared for the past 20 years so why worry now?”. Another smile found its way onto Chris’ face in response to the humorous temperament of the man he had previously recognized as just another generic, boring adult in his life.

“30 years? Is that how long you’ve worked here?” Chris asked, mildly curious as to how anyone could want to work in an examination facility.

“I know what you’re thinking, I don’t look a day over 28. But it’s true my boy, I’m an old man who’s been here a long time” Simon responded, eyes glancing around the hallways they were venturing through in a way someone might reminisce in nostalgia over a place from their childhood.

What had begun as mild curiosity was beginning to grow in Chris’ mind as he observed the man lose himself for a moment in memory and time passed. “What's it like, working in one of these places?”

A low hum echoed in Simon's throat as he pondered the question, “I’ve seen a lot of faces over the years and I remember a lot of names”, he stopped as they reached the exit. His arm held out once again, signalling Chris to take the lead as they walked into the dreary outdoors. “It's not terrible, I get paid an honest wage and the work’s fair” he continued, catching back up to Chris as they made their way into the parking lot, the only place where smoking was permitted. “Anyhow,” He added, in an attempt to change the focus off himself, “aren’t you usually with that group of yours?”

Chris wasn’t sure his soft groans of response was performed mentally or if it manifested itself in the real world, but the twitching eyebrow on Simon's face gave the slightest of hints. The silence continued for a moment longer until Chris broke his facade and exhaled. “It’s a long story...and a boring one” he finally responded, his eyes refusing to meet with Simons.

Though his stubbornness was strong it didn’t stop him from reacting to the nudge of a heavy hand. His attention returned itself to his newly made walking companion who held out a fresh cigarette free for the taking. Hesitantly Chris accepted the offering, wasting little time in lighting it and sucking back that first blissful drag. Though in a steady for graceful manner, Simon did the same. If appearance didn’t show obvious signs of age, then the worn-out, metallic zippo lighter that rose from the Oldtimer pocket towards the end of the slender white stick certainly did. “I see” Simon responded, snubbing out the flame from his archaic lighter and returning it back into the slightly frayed pockets of his uniform, “because if any of us has exciting stories it would be me ay?” He added, this time with a strong scent of smoke and sarcasm on his breath.

Another light laugh left Chris as he continued to drag on his cigarette. “Honestly it’s a silly story. Just a….”, he struggled to find the right for a moment before settling on the least dramatic choice, “a falling out, that kind of thing”.

From behind folded eyelids, two dark eyes rolled. “Drunk I assume?” inquired Simon, though the question was most likely that of rhetoric.

“Only slightly” Chris scoffed back in defence of whatever pride he was trying to project.

Simon shook his head softly and hummed. For a moment Chris could have sworn that the faintest of smirks crept its way onto his face; not one of mockery, but one of reminiscence. It lasted a little longer before the old man’s body stilled itself and a mix of words and a hearty chuckle escaped his lips “When I was a boy, me and a good friend of mine had this feud”, he paused to take a drag before exhaling the smoked his into the air, his eyes following the cloud as he continued to speak. “It was over this girl called sally, a pretty thing she was...a bit dim, but pretty” A squint of confusion creased the upper half of Chris’ face as he tried to figure out where exactly this story was going. But he continued to listen, not wanting to seem ungracious and deny the man attending to his little anecdote. “They got together in the end, made a cute couple in all fairness”.

It was hard to not feel patronised by the cliche tale of a love triangle. He couldn’t tell if the story was just Simon's way of trying to relate to him or his he was implying that Chris’ situation was a simple lovers tiff. He bit back another defensive response, not wanting to seem rude to the man who had curiosity escorted him out and offered him a cigarette. “Do you still talk to either of them?” he responded, deciding to remain passive.

There was a noticeable delay in the answer to Chris’ question to the point that he began to worry that he had accidentally caused some form of offence with an intrusive question. His concern disappeared when Simon's attention finally returned to earth from whatever world of deep thought it lingered in. “Unfortunately not, he got shrunk some months after. Last I saw of him he was heading out to dinner with Sally and her family”. The awkward silence made itself noticed again, allowing both to imagine the possibilities of what may or may not have happened that day. Chris’ train of thought found itself broken fairly swiftly by Simon attempting to reconcile the dreary situation. “Though this is why I always tell you kids, celebrate the day after! Nothing is more humiliating than irony now is it”.

Chris made short work in finishing the rest of his cigarette. Though Simon meant well with his life stories it didn’t stop the situation from feeling awkward. It seemed like regardless of what he tried to do, there was always something to remind him of what would take place tomorrow...what could happen tomorrow.

“Right then!” Simon exclaimed, breaking the silence and dragging Chris back into the world of reality. “It’s getting late, you’ve got a home to get to and I've got work to finish,” he continued. His demeanour had taken a swift turn and was back to the chirpy, pleasant one that had greeted Chris not 10 minutes earlier.

A soft exhale escaped Chris’ mouth as he nodded in agreement. “Thank you for the smoke sir, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied. His hands tucked himself into his pockets as he began to shuffle his feet into motion

“You certainly will my boy. I wish you all the best tomorrow”.

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The bus ride home was filled with silence and self-reflection. All of Chirs’ thought and anxieties bubbled as he whats the dimly lit town rush by. Everyone else around him seemed to be trying their hardest to ignore the surrounding world as they stared dazed into the distance as the music echoed through their earphone. It had been years since Chris had to ride the bus; not since he was a young teen. His memories of commuting with his old school friends didn’t seem to be of importance or worth any notoriety but he never remembered people on the bus acting desperately to seem like they are not on a bus. It was an ironic notion, people trapped in a metal tin like sardines; trying to seem like they are doing anything but sitting and waiting for their chance to get off. To Chris, the prospect of following this routine in the future was almost as scary as the idea of shrinking in some ways...almost.

The bus slowed to a stop and the doors swung open to accept another set of passengers. Three preppy college girls all got on one by one, giggling and snickering to each other as they flopped onto a set of seats a few rose in front of Chris. It’s not like their choice of seating was limited by any means, the bus was almost empty at this point. Chris tried his best to pay them no mind, but ignoring a series of laughs and sniggers proved difficult. Every time one of them chirped he couldn't help but quickly glance at their antics. At first, he thought nothing of it, just three girls being loud and obnoxious. However the more he looked the more he noticed they were all looking down at something. The blond sat closest to the window shuffled and lifted her hand. The first thing Chris noticed was the bright pink nails on the ends of each fingertip; long and curved like miniature scimitars. She propped her index finger up so it was level with her eyes and looked down at the tip, smirking a toothy grin through her plump glossy lips. Chris continued stared at the neon acrylic tips for a moment longer, is there’s something on her nail, he thought to himself as he slyly looked on from behind. From this distance, it was hard to make out what it was, but whatever was stuck to the peak of her nail seemed to be wiggling in some fashion as she looked on.

The other two girls simply watched and laughed, one even raising her phone to snap a picture. Whatever it was it seemed very interesting.

“What if your mom finds out” chirped the brunette who was sat next to who was the ring leader.

“She won’t don’t worry” responded the blonde, shaking her head gently. The finger moved closer to her face, stopping a few centimetres from her eye. “Were not going to tell mom anything are we bro?”.

Chris obviously couldn’t see or hear the response from the shrunken sibling that stood atop the bratty teens’ fingernail but he could only guess it was a mixture of begging and agreement to the demands of his domineering sister glancing down on him with a singular, monstrous, all-seeing eye. The three teens continued to laugh and chat between themselves for the next 5 minutes of the journey; tossing the hapless ant size person between themself as they took turns subjecting them to their sneers and taunts. It wasn’t until the ringleader, now dubbed “the sister” spoke up and held her hand out that the shrinkie got a moment of reprieve, “almost at our stop, pass it over!”.

The brunette friends didn’t hesitate to do as instructed, dropping the little man into his sister's palm in what was almost a flinching movement. For a moment there was no chatter, no comments, not even a quip. Instead, the teen simply reached between her lips and gently pulled out a white piece of chewed up gum that glistened in the light thanks to the saliva that settled on his surface. Watching in a curious sense of horror, Chris looked on jaw agape as the girl lowered the gum to her open palm and firmly pushed down. It wasn't visible but one could assume her shrunken brother was screaming and flailing trying to break free from his sticky, goo like prison as useless as his fight may have been. After a few seconds of pressing down her free hand retracted, tilting her head and smiling down as she did so. “Perfect!” she squeaked before pressing the button to signal the bus to stop as the next stop. “Let go girlies”.

The two other brats shuffled and fidgeted about as they propped themselves up, ready to exit the bus upon opening its doors to the cold, slightly dark outside. The sister however seemed to be hunched over, almost like she was trying to look at the under the seat for something. Morbid curiosity shot through Chris’ veins and in a bid to find out what the hell she was up to he too peered underneath the seats in as inconspicuous of a fashion as possible. It was there he saw this girl, this man’s sister, this own flesh and blood glue him to the bottom of her seat with a piece of her chewed up, spit covered gum. Chris couldn’t comprehend it as he sat back up straight. Should he say something? Should he call this girl out? Should he?.... It was too late by the time he snapped out his train of thought. The three teens were already exiting the bus by the time he came around, laughing loud and obnoxious as they exited through the door. The last thing he heard from them as the doors closed was the sister shouting towards the bus, “bye-bye bro, Good luck”.

Their laughter died off, the bus moved and soon it didn’t matter. The gum would dry, and if the shrinky hadn’t already suffocated he surely wouldn’t be getting off the seat any time soon. Chris could only begin to imagine what type of hellish experience it would be. To be forgotten and alone on a public bus as gods sat literally above you as you starved to death. The gum more recognisable than you, a lesser human as far as most of the world was concerned. His eyes stayed fixed to the seat for the duration of his journey. Even as he walked past it he found himself glancing at the seat as his legs carried him past it. He did consider freeing the shrunken prisoner from his torture, but the fear of judgement from the other passengers and the doubt that the tortured soul was even still alive killed any motivation to be this shrinkies saviour.

Retrospective thoughts forced themselves on his mind in some self-indulgence form of regret as Chris left the bus and made his way home. The cold of the draft from the doors opening a thousand times a day. 

He made his way to his street and continued to walk, the afternoon now a dark lamplit night. The booming of giants collapsing on the seat as they lazily endured their trip home.

The front door was of course locked, his mother and his sister would already be long-settled from their day. Alone, betrayed, forgotten. Alone, betrayed, forgotten. Alone. Betrayed. Forgotten.

He shook his head hard, trying to break the torment of his wandering mind that was concocting waking nightmares for him on matters that shouldn’t matter to him. Whispering to get a hold of himself, Chris pushed through the door and into the warm embrace of his house. It almost felt comforting in comparison to the abyssal dark that he had just come in from. But his mind was at no more ease than it should have been. It was getting more real by the second that tomorrow would literally be the beginning or the end of his life as he knew it, and for the first time, he really didn’t know what was going to happen.

“Bro?” came a voice from the top of the stairs. “Is that you?” it continued as the sound of feet descending followed.

He cleared his throat and walked further into the house to meet her. “Yea...it’s me” he replied as she came into view.

She smiled and twirled around in her oversized jumper, “haaiii!” she sang, body till swaying playfully from side to side, “Big day tomorrow! Excited?” she added, head now joining in with the sways. Her pastel pink hair followed the sideways motions like spring blossoms raining amidst a tranquil forest. She hopped on the word excited, almost like it was something to look forward to. Was it something people really were excited about? It was hard for Chris to even focus thanks to what was in store for him and yet Rachel was in glee about it as if on his behalf.

“I’ll be happy once it’s over” he sighed, keeping composed as he walked past her to the direction of the stairs.

“Owwah don’t be such a grumpy gut! You’ll be fine” she shouted back, pouting her lips out like some kind of child in spite. She threw her arms in the air as if she was some overly energetic character from a cheesy cartoon before striking an anime like pointing pose, “You got this my G!”

Chris didn’t respond, but he could be heard chuckling to himself as he walked up towards his room. Rachel’s naive bubbly personality was definitely a far cry from the dread he had been feeling all day. It helped. But his mind couldn’t simply wipe away that other Rachel, the one from his dream that cast him to the dark confine of her underwear and the all too real one that had devoured that helpless girl right before his eyes for nothing more than some domineering entertainment...

The night passed by quicker than normal, Chris’ desperate attempt to savour his last evening of peace was a failure to be sure. The most he achieved was smoking half a packet of cigarettes and listening to at least 3 full albums while he laid on his bed staring at the ceiling. It was almost as if his brain had given up on trying to be remotely proactive at this point. The sounds of his mother returning home soon echoed through the halls of the house followed by Rachels greetings only to there soon after replaced by the creeping silence of the house settling down. There was no exchange between Chris and his mother, not even as much as a soft knock on the door to ensure he was home safe and sound. She simple retired to her room. As such Chris decided it was best to respect this established routine and rolled over in his bed, despite his yearning need of maternal comfort...as if for once in his life he needed nothing more than his mothers’ consolidation.

The hours of sleepless dreaming rolled on. An untamed mind unable to settle thanks to a near-infinite fuel source of anxiety building in Chris’ chest. It wasn’t until the startling buzz of his phone next to his head shocked him back to reality that his uneasy temperament settled. Lazily, he clawed at his phone a brought it to his eyes, the lights of its display near blinding him as he winced at the message on the screen. The first thing he noticed was the sender’s name “Troy”. Eyes widening Chris propped himself up.

“What on earth does he want?” he muttered down at the screen as he unlocked the device to view the text.

Just a simple sentence sat before him, “Come to the party tomorrow bro, we got some stuff to talk about”.