The world is unfair. When you're born, you have a 50/50 shot at being able to live a fulfilling life. For anyone born male, they may get up to five years of normal life before they begin shrinking. If you're born female, however, you can live life at a "normal" height. Society was made with women in mind; very rarely would any luxury they enjoyed be available to men, who had to constantly rely on their female counterparts to get around.

I am one of those men. A victim of my own gender, I found out at an early age just how unfair the world really was.

I was a lonely yet curious ten year old at the time. Friends are much harder to make when you're only a few inches tall, so I spent a lot of time with Zoe, my oldest sister. Despite being four years older than me, she didn't mind at all, playing with me as much as she could. It helped that I was very easy to entertain. No one was ever as close to me as Zoe. Of course, my mom and other sisters were there too, though I typically stayed around her the most. I didn't have a problem with my mom, but his my sisters weren't as gentle. 

Zoe had a few of her friends for a sleepover one night. I could hear the girls in her room, giggling to each other about something. Of course, being ever-so-curious, I wanted to find out what they were giggling about. Even though Zoe had closed the door earlier, one of her friends must have left it open after opening it, as it was slightly ajar. This gave me just enough room to sneak into my sister's bedroom.

It was there when I had my first experience with just how horrible women could be to us. 

In there, I saw the group of four holding a teenage male. It was rare that I ever got to see members of the same sex, so my curiosity was peaked. Who was this guy, and what was he doing here? Squinting my eyes, I got closer to the scene. The male teenager had a look of defeat on his face, his body covered in bruises and scars. Contemplating where they came from, I watched on, trying to find some information. He shivered in the palm of one girl's hand, but didn't dare move. That's when one of the girls began lowering a soda can onto him. 

Like a car wreck, I found myself unable to look away from the grotesque mangling of the teenager's body underneath the can. At first, it was simple, pressing the can down on him until he flattened, but then they began twisting the can until the struggling ceased. After that, one of the girls swallowed the remains. I gagged, turning as she licked blood off the bottom of the can.

I had just witnessed a murder.

I stared at the four titanesses in front of him before running and hiding behind my sister's dresser. Each breath I took sounded louder than the last to me, with a heavier volume of air being pulled in each time.

Carefully, I listened in on what the girls were talking about. 

"Seriously, I can't believe your mom ACTUALLY let you bring your older brother here," One of them said. 

"Didn't even have to convince her or anything. He was 15, I think mom just stopped giving a shit about him. I don't blame her, he was pretty useless." 

A few of them laughed as another began to speak up. "I mean, aren't ALL guys kinda useless? Most of 'em can't do anything if ya don't help 'em." 

"Nah, you're just not training them right. My older brother? He gives the BEST foot rubs after practice. Oh, and when you're feeling VERY lonely, you can... Y'know..." All four of the girls giggled to themselves. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. That guy was her brother? Why would she kill him like that? Why didn't Zoe try to stop her? 

Was Zoe going to do that to me? 

I curled into the fetal position, crying. Images of the broken teenager flashed through my mind as I pondered his fate. Did his sister not actually care about him? Did NO ONE care about him? Just like the teenager from before, I was shaking from fear.

While I don't know how long it actually was, it felt like hours before I heard someone move the dresser aside. The childish "it can't hurt me if I can't see it" logic was the only strategy I could think of as I kept my head covered. Whoever this was, I wasn't going to look at them, no matter what.

I quickly found out the identity of the girl who found me when she picked me up. The nostalgic scent and feel of Zoe's palm managed to break into my clogged nostrils. My sister had found me. Her hand, where I spent much of my time, enveloped me in with her soft-yet-gentle fingers as she spoke up. 

"Hey, don't worry... Big sis is here. Everything's fine. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Hearing those words eased my worries somewhat, though it was nowhere near enough for me trust her. This girl, the person I trusted more than anyone, practically a goddess of tenderness in my mind, had seemingly partaken in a murder. 

It must have been an hour before I was able to look at her again. She looked down at me, a slight relief filling her body as she saw me looking at her again. "Lil bro... Are you feeling a bit better?"

I nodded weakly before she spat out another question, one that she already knew the answer to. "Do you wanna tell me what happened?" 

I tried to speak, but in the end I could only blubber like a baby. Thankfully, my sister was able to make out a few key words and confirm her suspicion: I was a witness to the murder. Slowly, her fingers curled around me as she hugged me to her belly.

Both of must have stayed silent for an hour until I managed to say something. 

"S-sis..."

"What is it?" She asked, using the tip of her long, soft finger to stroke the top of my head. 

"W-when I'm old like... he was... will you still love me?"

I felt the full protective grasp of Zoe's hand as she cupped me once more, traces of tears streaking on her face. 

"Of course I will... I'm your big sis, remember? I promise, no one is going to hurt you while I'm around. I'll always love you, I promise, and I would never hurt you..." 
I slept with her that night, crying myself to sleep.

For the most part, Zoe kept true to her word. She was essentially a guardian angel for me, saving me whenever I needed help. She would always be the one chastising my siblings when they got too rough with me. As long as I was around her, I knew I was safe. 

Unfortunately, I'm not going to be with her for a long time. 

It's been four years since the incident. I'm now a young man of 14, and Zoe is 18, college age. So, of course, she had leave me alone. 

I begged Zoe not to go, wrapping my limbs around her finger in an attempt to keep her with me, or at least take me with her. However, after a few select incidents on campus, her university wouldn't allow any men there. She had to pry me off of her finger before I would finally let go. After reassuring me that she'd come back, she gave me a kiss followed by a pat on the head. Tears streaked my face as I watched her leave. 

Cut to today, and life is already becoming much harder. Zoe was the one who usually carried me around the house, but now I have to walk along the floor. It's good exercise, sure, but the floor is where I'm most vulnerable. Whether my sisters attempt to step on me or I get into a fight with a spider, I'm more than capable of dying at any moment.