You have no idea how ecstatic I was, knowing that today was the last day of senior year of high school. Some people enjoy high school, finding themselves lucky enough to fit in with the popular crowd or at least some crowd that those people avoided. I fit into neither, not that I couldn't, but I entered this high school half way through senior year, and had ticked the wrong people off fast. I don't truly know how I did it. I am not particularly pretty, by my standards anyway. I did not talk to anyone in any way that would put a target on my back, but somehow I ended up the punching bag of the whole school, figuratively thankfully.

There was one group in particular who seemed to hate my guts. Ashley was the queen pin, labeled the prettiest and most ruthless, not really the brightest, but not stupid like Marisa. She, Marisa, was a bimbo on every account, basically following the others, the one who laughed at everyone's jokes, making them feel smarter than they actually were. Cindy was the freaky one, the one most considered a slut, unless of course they could tap her, in which case she was the best thing they had ever seen. But, of all of them, Evangeline, known to most by Eva, was the one whom was the truly scary one. She was basically silent, but when she spoke her words were like daggers, putting anyone over the edge. She was the true leader of this band of bombshells ready to kill.

Of course, as luck would have it, of all of them that I could tick off, it had to be Eva. The others fell in line, all hating my guts and infecting the rest of the school with the hatred, or in the case of the other wise picked on kids, an opportunity to divert the slander my way. Again I say this, I don't know what I did, but clearly it was something bad.

Anyway, back to today. I got to school expecting everyone to be so excited about school being done, that no one would bother me. I was dead wrong. In fact, of everyone, Eva herself was the tormenter of the day. I guess she decided one last bash to my self esteem would do her good. Today we had finals in many of our classes, but the students not taking the senior finals were told to leave the classroom to go to the library or whatever. In my last class of the day, the only students in the classroom were me... and her.

It began awkwardly. The final was an easy finish, for both me and her. I was not surprised when we both handed our tests in with almost forty-five minutes to spare. The teacher, figuring he had nothing to worry about, told us we were free to do whatever we wanted as long as we stayed in the room. He left, “to go check on the other students” and locked us in the room. He was probably off to go masturbate, but that was not the real issue. I was stuck in the room, alone, with Eva.

Nothing happened at first. I sat in an awkward silence while she texted or touched up her make-up. The clicking of the keys on her phone were the only things heard in the room and she texted so fast, and constantly. I put my head down on the desk, listening to the clicks, finding my focus attached to the sound. But then it stopped. Out of nowhere, she was no longer texting. She placed her phone down on the desk with an audible clack.

I looked up, my peace disrupted by her change. He heaved a sigh and stood, looking down on me from where she stood. I shivered, the look in her icy blue eyes sending chills down my spine. It was a look that would freeze you to death, if looks could do that. She smiled, making things even more uncomfortable. Flipping her blonde hair over her shoulders, she strutted towards me, grinning evilly the whole way. My instincts screamed to run, but there was nowhere to go, no escape that could be found.

She settled a well-kept hand onto my desk, towering over me even in her bent position. I gulped as I let my head rock back to look up at her. She pushed the desk away from me and then came to a sit upon it, facing my person. “So, Remy,” she began by saying. “Would you like me to grant your greatest desires?”

I might have forgot to mention this, but somehow the whole school seems to have it in its head that I am a lesbian, a hated and disgusting person by their accounts. The school had a clear homophobia and so, when I was labeled as such, it was a trait they loved to make fun of. I, by no means, dislike homosexuals, but not actually being one myself makes it hard to be called one. Sure, if I was one and more courageous, maybe people would have left me alone, but that was not the case. So when Eva spoke of my “greatest desire”, she was referring to being able to live a lesbian moment with her.

Horrified by the prospect, I shook my head frantically. Her brows furrowed as she looked down at me. “Am I not to your lesbian liking?” she asked manically. I was in an unfortunate placement in the room, having my seat placed at the back of the room. My seat was up against the back wall, making it impossible to back up. A rustling sound cued me in to her taking off her shoe. The flat dropped to the floor as she lifted her foot off the ground.

What she did next was the introduction into the torment. She flicked her foot up and placed it between my legs, sliding it close to my crotch, much like I would expect seductive women to do to the men they are trying to get to fuck them. I was not quick enough to avoid the contact, but I did stand rather quickly. She was faster though, placing a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to sit back down. She twirled, pivoting on the foot that was still on my chair. She sat down between my spread legs, wrapping her arm around my neck.

She leaned down, being significantly taller than myself, and placed an unwarranted kiss on my lips. I struggled against her hold, trying desperately to get away. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and my body betrayed me. I had never been kissed before, and she was clearly experienced. Her kiss sent tingles through me, causing me to relax. That was a mistake. She unbuttoned my blouse, ripping it away from me. I did not have enough sense to try to get it back and before I could do anything she stood and walked to the window. My heart sank as she opened it and thrust my blouse into the wind, which greedily grabbed it up, blowing it away.

I stared at the girl. She grinned back. “Do you want to continue onto the pants?” she asked in a sickeningly sweet tone. I was mortified. How was I supposed to leave? The door was locked, so it was not like I could head out while no one was looking. I ran to the window to see if the blouse was reachable. No such luck.

She snickered as I stared dumbly out the window. When I turned back, she stepped forward, running her long fingers over my cheek. “Congratulations on graduating. Hope you have a dreadful life.” The bell ran and she smiled as if she had planned the whole thing perfectly to end at that moment. Backing away, she blew me a kiss. The teacher was rushing to the door, fumbling to open it. She walked passed him and into the crowd of seniors vying to leave, done with school.

I covered myself as best I could as the teacher walked into the room. “Remy,” he exclaimed. “What is the meaning of this?!” I shuddered at his appall. “Sir, I- it was not me, it was Evangeline.” Evangeline was considered a top student, respected by all of the teachers. Of course he would not believe me. He looked offended by my accusations, but was respectable enough to lend me his spare shirt, which he conveniently kept in his drawer in case of coffee spills.

Problem was that that meant I had to venture into the halls wearing his shirt, one that was about twenty sizes too big. My blouse, I found, was on fire in the schoolyard. I stared blankly at it, wishing I could disappear. There was a fair crowd watching me as I tried to save it. I was unsuccessful, to their delight.

Sighing I returned to Mr. Avon, explaining to him that I would return his shirt to him on Monday. He disapproved of it, but did not argue. I rushed home to an empty house. My mother was always away on business trips. There was no one for comfort. I dropped my backpack by the front stairs and ran to my room, quickly changing out of Mr. Avon's shirt and into one of my own.

I was about to flop onto my bed when there was a knock on the door. Confused, I went downstairs, opening the door. No one was there, but a letter sat on my step. I picked it up, bringing it inside. Curiosity got the better of me as I stared down at my beautifully scribed name. I ripped the envelope open, carefully removing the letter from within. The message was short and difficult to believe.

Dear Whom Ever This Finds Its Way To,

You are either very lucky or unlucky. Whichever it is does not matter. You will be given the opportunity to change your circumstances and all you have to do is reply to this letter. Write me back one wish and I will grant it, at your bidding.

Sincerely,

The One Who Sent The Letter

I laughed, not sure whether it was a prank or whether someone had come up with the genius idea of trying to find out how many people replied to such a letter. I looked at the return address, which read “Your Mailslot”. I shook my head. If it were only going that far, might as well play along. I sat down at my kitchen table and wrote a short reply.

To Whomever Sent Me A Letter,

I wish that someone who actually likes me would come so I could have a little company.

Sincerely,

The One Who received Your Letter

I folded the paper, put it in an envelope and stuck it through my mail slot. Funny thing is, when I opened my door to fetch it, neither it nor someone else was there. I looked around, quite confused. How had that happened. I shut the door and through my slot popped another letter. I tugged the door open, searching for the sender, but there was none. I stared at the letter in disbelief. Opening it, I read the very short reply.

Wait until midnight. Your wish will be granted then.

I dropped the letter. What was this crazy occurrence?

I looked at my watch. 3:19. I had a while to wait. Questions ran through my head. Is this real? Why me? What the fuck kind of wish was that that I had just made? Who would be sent, if someone was?

I left the letter on the floor, leaving the room swiftly. I set about doing anything at all that would occupy my mind, distract me from the letter. How could it be real and yet how, if it wasn't, could someone pull off such a prank? Answers escaped me.

I figured cleaning house would be a good thing to do if I would be having company. I had not entirely got my hopes up, but on the off chance that someone would in fact be coming over, I did want my home to look nice. I took an intermission only to eat and watch a bit of TV. When eleven rolled around, I showered and brushed my teeth, slipping into my flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt. Did I need to look my best? I did not think so, seeing as they would be coming so late.

I sat on my living room couch, waiting for the deigned hour to come. Looking at my watch again, I saw it read 11:58. Two minutes. I was surprisingly nervous. My hopes had definitely risen at that point, passed what was probably healthy, especially if I was being played for a fool. 11:59. The seconds ticked by, seeming to pass slower than normal. I shivered. A clank signaled that someone had slipped mail into my slot. I fetched the letter.

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Elsewhere, Evangeline was sitting on her couch, watching a movie. It was approaching midnight and she knew she would go to bed soon. What surprised her was a sudden headache. She never got head aches and this one was splitting her skull. She felt like she was going to puke, the pain getting to be too much. Her vision went fuzzy, darkness engulfing her. The last thing she remembered was a odd tugging that seemed to come from every direction, pulling her body apart.

She awoke, moments later, in a daze. She lay on a cold surface, much like a linoleum floor. She turned onto her stomach, realizing she was naked. She stood up, much too quick, causing her to topple back over. “What the fuck?!” She looked at the floor below her, noticing that she was in fact right; it was linoleum. The problem was the tiles were far too big. She let her gaze rise and settle on an obelisk in front of her. It tilted to the side, and did not seem to have much of a base. Actually, no base at all. She followed the obelisk up with her eyes, coming to the dreadful realization that it was no obelisk at all. It was the leg to a chair, one far larger than herself.

She spun wildly, taking in as much as she could. She was definitely in a kitchen, but everything was huge. She stared in disbelief, hoping to the heavens this was a dream. She looked for anything to get a reading on her height. What she found was a pencil. Working hard to lift it up, she found that she was taller than it, but not by much. With that she estimated that she was about a foot tall, a sixth of her original height.

Heaving the pencil away, she scowled at everything. How the fuck had this happened?

Movement in a room to her right, better classified as an earthquake, put fear into her heart. She was caught between knowing she needed help and not wanting to be seen because of what could happen. She decided to hide, choosing to hide beneath the ledge at the bottom of the kitchen counter. She had to lay down, but she did not mind, not really anyway. She watched as a pair of bare feet stormed into the room, shaking the floor as they went. The horror of her predicament was beginning to set in. This person, possibly a stranger, how would they help her? Would they even try or just torment her?

She was startled by one of the feet stamping against the floor, sending reverberations rolling towards her. A giant piece of paper slammed into the floor, quite close to Eva. She squeaked and tried to army crawl away.

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I opened the letter, excitement coursing through me. It read as follows:

You company awaits you in the kitchen. Be gentle with her.

I walked quickly to the kitchen, peering around. There was no one in sight, not a sole. I stomped my foot in frustration. I had been totally suckered into a joke and was probably being taped. I threw the letter to the floor. “Shit,” I cursed under my breath. I glanced back down at the letter and a bit of movement caught my eye. Looking closer, a barbie doll was moving away from the letter, keeping under the overhang of the counter.

Figuring it was part of the joke, I grabbed the unclothed doll, heading to throw it in the trash. But something was off. The “doll” moved in my grasp and a tiny voice reached my ear. “Put me down, bitch.” I almost dropped the girl, but stopped myself at the last second. I had been holding the girl face down, so neither of us had seen the other's face. I lifted her up, turning her to face me.

I blinked down at none other than Evangeline, her blonde hair strewn over my fingers and her small chest heaving against my thumb. “You,” she howled and I almost dropped her again. I went with my instinct, which said to put her down. I found a tall glass and dropped her in. Placing the glass on the kitchen table, I found myself a seat, hoping I would not faint. She was strangely silent after finding out I was the one who had picked her up like a doll. She was clearly doing better than I was.

My first question was not “how did you get here?” or “how did you get so small?” or even “why are you naked?”. No, instead I asked, “why you?”

She scowled up at me and the outward hatred that filled the scowl shook me to my core, despite our size difference. She answered simply. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?” It was a question that I both kept from answering and that put further fear into my heart.

Rapid fire, I shot off the other questions, in order. She replied, in kind to each. “I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.” Each response was filled with more hatred than the last.

I responded defensively. “Look, I don't know what is going on, but, um... you look... cold.” I stumbled over most of the words and when they were finally out, she just rolled her eyes. “Right,” I mumbled, picking up the glass, despite her protests. “Let's find you something to put on.”

The storeroom was the first place I went. I placed her on a shelf, still in her glass, and searched for my old toy boxes. Labeled and organized well, it was easy enough to find. I lifted off the cover, rummaging through until I found what I was looking for. A barbie with a short white dress. I shrugged. It was small, but better than nothing.

Turning back to her, I grasped the glass. “Hold on,” I whispered. When she looked secure, I tipped the glass slowly to the side, bringing it closer to being flat against the shelf. When I nodded, she crawled out, sitting naked on the wood. I could not help but stare, but it was only for a second. Beauty should be appreciated whether from the opposite gender or not. I held out the dress, not inches from her, by my count.

She lifted a hand and tried to tug the dress from my fingers. I had forgotten already that she would be incapable of such a task. I separated my fingers, letting the dress fall into hers. She quickly slipped it on, inaudibly mumbling about something. She seemed to want to straighten it out further, but I was getting impatient. I grabbed her off the shelf, along with the glass.

As I walked out of the storeroom, I could feel her struggles. It was amusing how little it did. Foregoing manners, I placed her the kitchen table again, not bothering to use the glass. She crumpled, sitting, unable to stand by the looks of it. It made me smirk. I pulled up a chair, resting my chin on my arms, which in turn rested upon the table. “So, what am I going to do with you?”

Eva looked shocked by the question, not that I blame her. “You have to help me, give me to my parents.” I raised an eyebrow in response. “You must,” she insisted.

I waved a few fingers in dismissal. “Maybe tomorrow. Do you realize how late it is? I would not go driving this late, just to be interrogated by your family and then the police.” I shook my head. “Not happening.”

Protesting drove her back on her feet. “You must,” she demanded. I blinked at her. “I must do nothing,” I whispered, the lack of care hard to keep from my voice. To prove my point, I shifted and drove one trunk-like finger into her stomach, causing her to fall back down to the table. I pushed the proof further, pinning her to the table with a lazy finger. She struggled of course, which only served to put a smile on my face.

Eventually she stopped. That was rather disappointing. I lifted my finger off of her and stood up. A thought came to mind and I fetched a ruler. Holding it straight up, I motioned for Eva to stand by it. She shook her head. “Don't make me force you,” I warned. She stepped forward with much reluctance. Placing the ruler at her back, I measured her to be exactly a foot tall.

Despite the excitement, I was beginning to fade, fatigue setting in. “Look, I need to sleep on this.” I reached out, pausing for only a second before gripping her around the waist. Lifting her was a simple task and I carried her easily to my bedroom. I was at a loss for where to put her and settled upon my underwear drawer. She would appreciate that, I was sure. Everything in it was clean, so I did not see the problem. I closed the draw almost completely, but not quite. Then I crawled into bed and tried to contemplate what would come next.