~

Allison pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket two blocks away from the Silver Strip. She exited the car and began the long walk towards her place of employment. Through all this, not a single thought of substance passed through her mind. She simply continued to move, a clouded look on her face, completely driven by the memory of routine. Soon enough, she was standing before the primary entrance of the Chevalier facility, ready to begin a day of work. 

She passed through the door, making her way towards the device used to clock in. She did so, letting the facility know she was ready to begin a SPAR session at any time. Above the device was a schedule, listing the various times that all Chevaliers would need to report to their SPARs. For the most part, all SPAR sessions were scheduled to happen at coordinated times. Some Chevaliers would be assigned more SPAR sessions than others in a given day, but there was at least one scheduled time where everybody in the building would execute a convict in the same hour. On this particular day, there was only one. This session was at 1:00 PM, leaving Allison with just over four hours to kill. 

Still driven by autopilot, Allison made her way to the side of the building that housed the various “waiting rooms” Chevaliers were allowed to relax in while they waited for their assignments. These rooms were designed to be as lavish and comfortable as possible, and were well known as one of the best perks of being a Chevalier. There was a fitness center, a game room, a mini-theater, among others. Allison mindlessly moved towards her preferred waiting room- the library. The library was the quietest and least frequented waiting room, which made it an ideal hiding spot for Allison. She preferred to keep to herself, avoiding her coworkers and the detailed recounts of their SPAR sessions. Allison soon found herself in her favorite spot, where she was practically guaranteed to find isolation- a large, comfortable chair located in a hidden corner of the room. Soon, the rustling of her movement was replaced by a blanket of silence, and Allison Starr was alone once more.

As if a nerve had been triggered by the overwhelming silence, Allison suddenly regained her awareness. Almost immediately, her mind was assaulted by guilt, confusion, fear, and sadness. The full weight of her argument with Brian came crashing down on her at once, and she felt like she was going to collapse.

I almost killed him, Allison thought. At this realization, a cacophony of thoughts overtook her mind.

I almost killed him.

He hates me.

He’ll never trust me again.

What am I doing?

Why am I here?

I almost killed him.

Please stop.

“Allie… why are you a Chevalier?”

I don’t know. Please stop.

“How can you work in a place like that, then come home to me and feel like everything is fine?!”

I don’t know. Please stop.

“You seriously say with full confidence that I’m the only person who was, is, or ever will be innocent that got the Shrink Penalty?”

I DON’T KNOW!

Allison closed her eyes, and put her head in her hands. She was breathing heavily, and she could feel a growing heaviness behind her eyes. In the span of five minutes, she had been forced to confront the cracks in her worldview, and she was having trouble sorting through all the questions and emotions flooding through her mind as a result.

Truthfully, Allison knew something was wrong with the Shrink Penalty the moment Brian Bentley had been re-sentenced to death. Not only was the government changing their previous definition of a “worst-of-the-worst criminal” by sentencing somebody who had only killed a single person, the decision seemed entirely fueled by public outrage. Combined with the revelation that Brian was actually innocent, it took but a light poke to shatter her worldview entirely.

Brian is right, Allison thought, how would I know if a convict was innocent? How would anybody? What the hell have I been doing?

Her mental state stabilized for the time being, Allison raised her head and took a deep breath. She replayed all of her previous SPAR sessions in her head, thinking about the dozens of times in which a convict claimed to be innocent. She was not lying when she said that they almost always lied about what their crime was, but these memories were suddenly painted with a layer of conspiratorial doubt.

What if they weren’t lying? What if their file had been tampered with to make it look like they were lying? How would I know?!

Allison slapped her cheeks a few times.

Calm down, Allie. Give yourself some credit. I am extremely perceptive- everybody has always said that, right? I studied psychology, body language and facial expression recognition, sociology, criminology, right?! I could tell- those assholes were always fucking lying!

She gave a small sigh, her confidence briefly restored. However, that confidence was quickly replaced by a blood-chilling realisation.

What about the ones who never claimed to be innocent? What if they were innocent, but didn’t even want to bother trying to convince me because they knew I would never believe them?

Allison continued this way for a while, bouncing back and forth between reassuring herself and coming up with conspiracy theories. She soon found herself blankly staring at a bookshelf in the distance, her thoughts having imploded into a numbing sense of melancholy.

“What am I supposed to do?”

~

Her silence disturbed by some vague noises in the distance, Allison checked the time. She saw that it was 12:50, almost time for the scheduled SPAR session.

No matter what, I have to get this session done. I can figure everything else out after, Allison thought. Giving herself a resolved nod, she gathered her things and exited the waiting room. Soon, she found herself standing outside the door which led into the silver hallway that housed all of the SPARs. This door was one of two, the other one located on the opposite end of the hallway. Seeing as how Allison’s SPAR was directly opposite the door in front of her, she naturally used that one every time. However, an unknown force compelled her to keep walking.

Soon enough, Allison was standing in front of the other door, her hand reaching for the handle. Moving inside, Allison was now at the opposite end of the metal hallway. She slowly began the long walk towards her SPAR, still slightly confused as to why she didn’t use her usual entrance. Looking to her left, she could see the repeating metal doors, each one leading to a chamber of death. Standing outside each door, waiting for their respective lights to go from red to green, were people of all shapes and sizes. These people were her fellow Chevaliers, and Allison found herself examining each one as she moved towards her own SPAR. As she did, a growing sense of uneasiness overtook her senses.

Allison saw an early-twenties, attractive young woman, earbuds in as she checked her phone. Allison noticed that she was holding what looked to be a gym bag, the faintest trace of body odor permeating the surrounding air. Thinking about whatever smelly, sweaty fate awaited that woman’s shrunken convict, Allison could only think one thing:

What if they’re innocent?

Allison saw a mid-thirties man. He looked like the kind of neighborhood dad who would man the grill at barbecue parties. He was examining some kind of multi-tool pocket knife, running his fingers along the various blades, screwdrivers, and bottle openers. Thinking about whatever sharp, bloody fate awaited that man’s shrunken convict, Allison could only think one thing:

What if they’re innocent?

Allison saw a middle-aged woman. She looked like the enthusiastic leader of a neighborhood church group. Her clothes were bright pastel colors, all neatly and meticulously pressed to give a clean, innocent appearance. She was happily perusing a Bible as she waited. A hard cover Bible. Thinking about whatever brutal, preachy fate awaited that woman’s shrunken convict, Allison could only think one thing:

What if they’re innocent?

Allison saw an older, overweight man. His thin, greased-back hair glistened under the harsh overhead lights. Ignoring the judgmental looks of those around him, he fiddled with a bottle of pills. Looking closer, Allison saw that it was a bottle of Viagra. It was already taking effect, if the state of his pants was anything to go on. Allison shivered. Thinking about whatever disgusting, sticky fate awaited that man’s shrunken convict, Allison could only think one thing:

What if they’re innocent?

Allison continued along this way- examining the various Chevaliers, imagining their chosen methods of executions, and wondering what would happen if their convict was innocent. Soon enough, she approached her own SPAR, her face pale and her stomach turning. Before she could reach her destination, though, Allison was intercepted by a certain Chevalier who was very excited to see her again.

“Allie!” rang out a cheerful, girlish voice. Allison found herself wrapped up in a giant hug, long arms squeezing her frame tightly.

“How was your four day weekend?” asked Cathy, overjoyed to see her friend again.

“F-Fine…” Allison choked out, her head slightly spinning.

“Was it? I’m so happy to hear that. You deserved a nice, long rest. I missed you so much, though! Did you do anything fun?” Cathy asked, finally releasing Allison from her bear hug before turning to face her. Who Cathy was met with, though, was far from the neat, professional young woman she was expecting.

Cathy could instantly tell that something was wrong. Although Allison was not dressed any different than usual, she looked ill. Her face was pale, and her eyes were sunken and lifeless.

“What’s wrong, Allie?” asked Cathy. “You look sick. Are you going to throw up?”

Allison started to reply. “I-I’m fi-”

“Because if you are going to throw up, you should totally save it for your bug. That would be hilarious,” interrupted Cathy with a laugh. She expected Allison to react as she normally would to that kind of teasing- a disgusted noise, and a scrunched up face. However, Allison simply stood there, her eyes remaining blank as she continued to take irregular breaths. It was then that Cathy understood that something was very wrong.

“Allie, something’s not right. Are you okay?” she asked, her tone becoming deadly serious. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Allison did not respond.

“Alright, we’re going to the hospital. Come with me,” Cathy started, before grabbing Allison’s hand and moving towards the door. At that moment, though, Allison snapped back to awareness.

“N-No! I’m fine, Cathy. I’m sorry, I just spaced out for a second. I d-didn’t sleep very well.”

Cathy released Allison’s hand and returned to her original spot, her face expressing strong concern for Allison’s wellbeing.

“Are you sure, Allie? I mean this in the nicest of ways, but you look awful,” Cathy said, before checking Allison’s head for a fever. Allison shook her head.

“I’m sure. I’m sorry to worry you,” she said. At that, Cathy’s expression softened a bit. 

“It’s just…” Allison started, her face darkening.

“What is it, sweetie?” Cathy asked.

“Cathy… do you think anybody innocent has ever gotten the Shrink Penalty?” replied Allison. Her doubts had boiled over, and she simply had to ask it out loud.

Cathy let out a boisterous laugh.

“As if! What the hell are you talking about, Allie?” Cathy asked jovially. When she looked back at Allison though, Cathy saw that she was completely serious. She looked like a little girl asking her Mom if Santa was real. Cathy changed her tone.

“Why are you asking that, Allie?” she asked softly. “Are you seriously worried about that?”

Allison quickly made up a lie.

“I just… I accidentally saw some Anti-SP propaganda on the internet the other day, talking about how innocent people might get the Shrink Penalty. I guess it just… stuck in my mind, for some reason.”

Cathy shook her head disappointingly.

“Allie, you can’t let that stuff get to you. Those ‘humanitarian’ crybabies just want everybody to be able to get away with anything. They’ll say whatever they can to make you think any form of accountability is cruel,” Cathy said, as if lecturing a student. “You know how strict everything is around here. Since the punishment is so severe, everything is under intense scrutiny to make sure that kind of thing never happens.”

That’s exactly what I told Brian, Allison thought.

“So please, babe, don’t lose any sleep over silly questions like that. We’re giving these bugs exactly what they deserve- a fraction of the pain, suffering, and humiliation that they inflicted on the world,” Cathy continued.

That’s exactly what I told Brian, Allison thought again.

“I know, Cathy,” Allison started, “It’s just-”

“BZZZZZZZZT”

At that exact moment, harsh buzzing sounds rang out across the hallway. Looking at the source of the noises, Allison and Cathy noticed that every SPAR had unlocked, the green lights shining brightly above them. The convicts were soon to be delivered, and the sessions were about to begin. Cathy turned back to Allison.

“Look, Allie, we don’t have time to finish this conversation. You really don’t look well, though…” she started, trying to figure out the best course of action. After a moment, she let out a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you should squish your bug right away. Get it over with, and use the rest of the hour to calm down, okay?” she said. Allison weakly nodded.

“Here’s a breathing exercise I learned. It’s called ‘box breathing.’ Exhale all the breath in your lungs while counting to four. Then, hold your breath like that while counting to four. Then, inhale slowly while counting to four, and hold it like that while counting to four. Rinse and repeat. Can you do that for me, Allie?” Cathy asked, demonstrating along the way.

Allison repeated Cathy’s instructions.

“Good girl. If you’re having trouble calming down, just focus on doing that, okay? We’ll talk after the session,” Cathy said, before giving Allison another hug. They then both entered their respective SPARs, and Allison soon found herself alone in the familiar metal room.

~

Allison approached the metal desk with great trepidation.

Just get it over with, she thought, trying to motivate herself. You don’t even need to ask his name. Nobody will know. Just squish him and be done with it.

Sitting in her chair, Allison opened the cabinet underneath the desk, and pulled out a document. The document was simple- it listed three things, and contained a picture. The picture was of a large, burly man. He was bald, and his long, thin beard started from his chin and reached down to the base of his neck. His small, dark brown eyes bordered on black, and he was looking into the camera as if he was trying to pick a fight with the viewer. The three things were as follows:

NAME: Frank Turner

CRIME: Hate crimes, murder of four adult men

METHOD OF EXECUTION: (blank)

Allison stared at the document, absorbing the information.

Quadruple murderer, Allison thought. This is no different than any other session. 

Steeling her resolve, Allison returned the document to the cabinet, closed it, and neatly folded her hands on the desk. Although she tried to erase any traces of nervousness in her face and body language, it was not going well. Her face was still pale, and her neatly folded hands were ever so slightly shaking.

Suddenly, yet another harsh buzzing sound rang out across the room, causing Allison to flinch.

That awful buzzer is still loud. This is no different than any other session.

Immediately after, the strange two inch door retreated into the wall, leaving a small hole in its stead.

That weird-ass door still retreated into the wall. This is no different than any other session. 

Then, propelled by an unseen force, a small figure came flying into the room, face planting onto the desk below it. 

The convict still came flying in. This is no different than any other session. 

It was a man. Only, this man was one inch tall, and completely naked.

The convict is still small and naked. This is no different than any other session. 

Just like that, the session began.

The man squirmed for a few moments, before shakily rising to his feet. He shook his head a few times, as if to clear a mental fog. Allison now understood that convicts did this because they were not shrunken down until the moment before they were sent to a Chevalier. It had to be rather disorienting. Then, the convict opened his eyes.

As Joe had been before him, the man was instantly awed by the immense scale of his new environment. Unlike Joe, though, Allison was immediately in his line of sight, and her overwhelming enormity caused him to shriek and take a few steps back. He quickly regained himself, however, deeply embarrassed that he let out such a pathetic noise.

Allison looked upon him silently. Not wanting this to last any longer than it had to, she was desperately willing her hands to reach out, grab the convict, and drop him to the floor. Her hands were not cooperating, though, frozen by fear and doubt. Allison simply sat there, her face pale and her eyes wide.

The man took in the features of his giant would-be-executioner. Once he got over the initial shock of her unbelievable size, he found himself facing a young, attractive woman who looked to be scared out of her mind. Curiosity and a sense of false confidence compelled him to make the first move.

Allison watched as the shrunken man’s expression changed from fearful to aggressive. He puffed himself up, trying to look as intimidating as possible for somebody so small. He then spoke, his voice low and gravelly.

“Lady, I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be afraid of you.” 

Allison saw red.

“FUCK YOU!” she screamed. Without thinking, she brought her hand up and swung it towards the convict, as if to slap him. He saw the palm racing towards him, and his consciousness was overtaken by the crushing weight of primal fear. Allison’s brain did not catch up with her movement, and her palm made contact with the insignificant man.

After the smallest sound of a thump, the man went flying across the room at a breakneck speed. His consciousness having already faded after the initial slap, he was not able to even scream as his body sailed towards one of the metal walls. With a sickening splat, he made contact with the wall. His body instantly exploded, blood splattering across the wall as if it had been hit with a water balloon filled with ketchup. A small lump of nondescript guts and bone fell to the floor with a small slap, and the deed was done. Frank Turner was dead, executed by a Chevalier. Allison had not asked him even a single question, and she was now alone once more. Above the door, a timer showed that exactly 59 minutes were left before the session would end.

Allison’s response was instant and electrifying. She screamed, thoroughly disturbed by her own act of brutality. She covered her mouth with her hand, and instantly felt the sensation of liquid on her face. Looking down, she saw that the hand she had used to slap the convict had a little of his blood on it- blood that was now staining her face.

Allison couldn’t take it. She rushed over to the toilet installed in the SPAR and vomited, before frantically wiping her mouth with some nearby toilet paper. She began to tear up as hundreds of disturbing thoughts invaded her mind at once.

I killed him.

I almost did that to Brian.

What if he was innocent?

I’m a murderer.

I killed him

I didn’t even ask what his crime was.

What if he had told the truth?

I almost did that to Brian.

I need Brian.

I’m a murderer. 

I don’t want to be here.

Let me out!

Allison quickly stood to her feet and ran over to the metal door. She was now fully crying, and she began to bang on the cold surface.

“Let me out! I already killed him! It’s done! I fucking murdered him, are you happy?! Let me out! Let me the fuck out! It’s already done! LET ME THE FUCK OUT!” she screamed. She continued to bang on the door, despite knowing that nobody was around to let her out, and nobody would hear her screaming through the quadruple-soundproofed walls. She continued to pound against the door, though, desperately screaming for somebody to let her out while her fists turned redder and redder.

Eventually, she gave up, sinking to her knees in front of the metal door. The tears still flowing, she looked to the right. There, she saw the horrifying stain that used to be her shrunken convict. At this sight, her frantic and squeamish mind caused her to rush back to the toilet and vomit once more. Then, she crawled over to a corner, head buried in her knees as she continued to sob.

“I’m a murderer…” she softly cried.

“Brian… Brian, please help me…” she called into the silence, desperately trying to calm herself down by thinking of the happy days she spent with Brian. All that entered her mind was the argument, though, and how she had almost killed the man she was coming to love. At that, she only cried harder.

“Brian…”

~

The timer reached zero. Accompanied by the distinct sound of a door being unlocked, the red light above the door dimmed, and the green one lit up. The session was over, and Allison was free to leave the room. Although she was no longer loudly sobbing thanks to Cathy’s breathing technique, the tears were still flowing, and her mind was no less distressed. She rose to her feet, quickly grabbed her things, and ran towards the door. She had forgotten to write down the details of the execution on the document, but at that moment she couldn’t have cared less.

Allison flung the metal door open and rushed towards the exit. She felt an overwhelming urge to flee the facility and go back home. Just as she was frantically opening the exit door, she heard a voice call out behind her.

“Allie! What’s wrong? Where are you going?! Wait!”

Ignoring Cathy’s distressed cries, Allison continued to rush towards the outside. Hardly sparing a moment to breathe, Allison continued to run away. Soon enough, she was sitting behind the wheel of her car, breathing heavily.

She knew that she couldn’t very well drive like this, so she took a few moments to get her mental state under control. Since she was no longer in the facility, this became a much easier task. Once again using Cathy’s breathing technique, she calmed herself down to the point where she could think coherently. Continuing to breathe heavily, Allison wiped her face and put her key in the ignition. After taking one last deep breath, she started the car, and began to drive home.

~

Allison was standing outside the door of her apartment. She was holding her key out, just centimeters from the lock. She was not moving, though. Her eyes were simply staring straight ahead at the wood of the door.

How am I going to face him? she thought. I almost killed him. He must hate me.

Letting out a resigned sigh, she unlocked the door and entered the apartment.

“I’m home…” she declared to the empty room, sad that nobody was there to answer her.

However…

“Welcome home, Allie,” said a small voice.

Allison turned towards the source of the noise- the small table adjacent to the front door. There, leaning against the potted plant, was a young man with messy black hair and striking green eyes. Brian Bentley had welcomed Allison home- a small, sad smile on his face.

“Brian…?” Allison said. “W-what are you doing there? How did you…”

“I climbed the string,” he replied, pointing to the string that was taped to the table. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“But… why? I almost… don’t you hate me?” she asked softly. Brian shook his head.

“Allie, why don’t you put your stuff down? We can talk once you get settled,” Brian said. Allison weakly nodded, and began to remove her jacket.

Soon, the pair was in the bedroom. Allison was sitting on the floor, nestled in the space between her bed and her nightstand. Brian was perched on said nightstand, his legs dangling over the edge. Allison was having a hard time making eye contact, while Brian was simply looking at her with a gentle smile. Allison opened her mouth to talk first.

“Um… Brian, I-”

“Let me stop you right there,” Brian started. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

Allison was shocked.

He’s… sorry? But I almost hurt him! she thought.

“What…?” Allison asked.

“I said I’m sorry. About this morning,” he replied.

“Why, though? I almost…” she started. Brian held one hand up to stop her.

“I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that. I was trying too hard to spare your feelings, and I bottled up my anger. I should have just talked to you from the beginning. I shouldn’t have made you need to bring it up to me. I’m truly sorry, Allie,” he elaborated.

Allison was stunned. Brian’s kind apology simultaneously whacked her in the heart and lifted a weight from her shoulders. She could feel the tears begin to return, but she needed to ask one more thing before she could fully embrace his apology.

“I almost hurt you, though… I promised that I would never hurt you over something as silly as an argument, and then I went and almost killed you. How… how can you not hate me?” she asked slowly. Brian softly smiled in response.

“You didn’t, though. That’s what matters to me. I pushed you too hard, and you were able to stop yourself. Thank you, Allie,” he said. “I could never hate you.”

At that, Allison couldn’t hold in the tears anymore. She cried in relief, repeatedly thanking Brian for his apology while professing her own guilt over what had happened. Brian simply sat there, telling Allison that he forgave her as many times as she wanted to hear it. She took Brian in her palms and held him close to her chest, giving him some kind of hug while at the same time trying to avoid showering him in her tears, unbelievably happy that they were still friends.

Brian was back on the nightstand, while Allison got herself under control.

“Thank you, Brian. Thank you so much. I promise to move slowly in gaining your trust from now on, I should have been more patient. Even though you’re trying to spare my feelings, I know that what happened today probably set me back a bit. I’ll try to do better,” Allison said.

“Thank you, Allie. Thank you for everything you have done for me. From now on, I’ll try not to be so scared about voicing my opinion. In the future, I should just be honest with you right away. I’ll try to do better,” Brian replied.

Having both apologized, and stated their goals for the future, the strange pair broke out in huge smiles. They had made up.

~

Some time had passed. Neither of them had moved from their positions, and they had just been talking for a while. Eventually, though, Allison wanted to broach a difficult subject.

“Um… Brian, about the whole Chevalier thing…” she started.

Brian did not respond, he just silently encouraged her to go on.

“You were right. The Shrink Penalty is flawed. I think I’ve known that since the day you got ‘re-sentenced,’ but I was trying not to think about it. I shouldn’t have taken my insecurities on you. I just… I don’t know what to do. All I could think about today was if any of the convicts were innocent, and how I would never know. I couldn’t think straight,” she said.

“Did you… have a session today?” Brian asked hesitantly. Allison nodded, her face darkening.

“What happened? I promise not to judge or get angry,” he continued.

“I k-killed him. I killed him right away. I couldn’t take it, and I started to panic. I got sick, I banged on the door, I cried, I just couldn’t take it,” she said, tearing up at the memory. Brian’s face was overtaken with pure sympathy.

“I’m so sorry, Allie…” he said softly.

“I hate it,” said Allison. “I fucking hate it. I hate that damn metal room. I hate that awful table. I hate my coworkers. I hate talking to convicts. I hate squishing them. I fucking hate everything!” she continued, her voice growing angrier and angrier.

“Allie…” started Brian. “I asked you this before, but I want to know the truth this time, okay?”

Allison softly nodded, knowing what was coming next.

“Why are you a Chevalier?” he asked gently.

Allison closed her eyes, and began to talk in a small voice.

“I… I told you that I was in love once. It was because of him. It’s just… he was so… it wasn’t just that it didn’t end well, h-he… he hurt-”

“It’s okay, Allie,” Brian said. Allison took a deep breath.

“He drove everybody in my life away. He completely isolated me until all I had was him. Then… something really bad happened, and he left,” Allison continued. Brian nodded in understanding.

“I was completely alone. I had nothing. That’s when I was offered the job. They said I would have good pay, very few commitments, and complete anonymity.”

“So, that’s why you became a Chevalier?” Brian asked.

“No. I became a Chevalier because… I wanted revenge. I wanted to get revenge against him,” Allison replied.

“Did you?” he asked.

“No.”

Brian nodded again.

“Why didn’t you quit, then?”

Allison sat in silence once more.

“It took me a while to figure out that being a Chevalier wasn’t helping me. By then, everybody who wasn’t completely driven away by him had abandoned me because I was a Chevalier. My own mother… they all told me not to contact them anymore,” she said sadly.

“Mmm. Tell me about it,” Brian said. Allison looked up, and saw that he had a sly grin on his face. At that, she gave a small laugh, before immediately covering her mouth with her hand.

“I just… the longer I waited, the harder it was for me to think about quitting. How could I ever go back to a normal job after being a Chevalier for so long?” she said, her face darkening once more.

“I don’t deserve it. I’ve killed so many people… even if they were the worst-of-the-worst, they were still people, and I killed them,” she continued.

“Oh god…” she started, burying her face in her knees as she realized something. “I kept killing people because I was too scared to quit… I’m a monster, I’m a murderer… I’m awful…”

Allison’s shoulders began to shake. Brian could tell that she was crying again. His heart fractured. He wanted nothing more than to give her a hug, to wrap her up in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay. He couldn’t. For the first time, Brian was truly lamenting the fact that he was only one inch tall.

“I’m not a bad person… I never wanted to be a bad person… please believe me, I’m not a bad person…” Allison weakly called out. Brian steeled his spine and opened his heart, for he knew what needed to be done.

“Allie,” he said softly.

Allison did not respond, she only continued to cry.

“Allie, look at me,” he repeated, coaxing her to look at him with the ever so gentle sound of his voice.

Allison locked eyes with Brian, and he decided that, even if the world might hate him for it, he needed to look right in her soul and say three terrifying words.

“I believe you.”

~

Allison looked at him questioningly. Brian continued to speak.

“I believe you, Allie. You’re not a bad person. A bad person wouldn’t have saved me. You got caught in a vulnerable moment, and you eventually felt like you were too stuck to get out. That doesn’t make you a bad person. That makes you human.”

Allison’s heart exploded. Those were the exact words she had needed to hear for a long time, and she felt like her soul had been liberated. Although her face was still stained with tears, she was flashing the most radiant, grateful, and beautiful smile Brian had ever seen. At the sight of her smile, he felt something unfamiliar stir in his stomach, making his whole body glow with warmth.

“Thank you,” said Allison. Nothing more needed to be said, and a wonderful silence fell upon the room. Allison wiped her face with a nearby tissue, and reclined against the wall. She let out an enormous sigh, releasing all the sadness and guilt that had built up over the previous six months. Allison was now experiencing the same kind of hope that she had given Brian- the hope that she was not alone in her battle against the world.

“You know, Brian,” Allison started, “my goal when I brought you back here was to make you happy.”

Brian smiled.

“I never imagined that the happiness would end up going both ways,” she continued. At that, they both shared a laugh.

“With that in mind, I just came up with a new goal,” she said. Brian raised an eyebrow.

“What might that be?” he asked.

“It’s a secret,” Allison said with a sly grin and a wink.

“Oh, come on-” Brian started. At that moment, the doorbell rang, causing them both to flinch.

“D-Did you order something?” Brian asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. Allison shook her head.

“Nope. Must be a salesman,” she said, flashing Brian a reassuring smile.

“I’ll go turn them away, and then let’s see if you can guess what my new goal is.”

She flounced away, leaving Brian to groan as he flopped over on the nightstand.

Allison made her way to the front door, still glowing from her conversation with Brian. She tried to put on a mean face for the salesman, but she simply couldn’t manage it.

Screw it, she thought, before swinging open the door. What she was met with, though, instantly wiped away her good mood.

“Allie!” rang out a concerned, girlish voice. “What the hell happened? Are you okay? Did you go to the hospital? I got out of there as soon as I could!”

Allison was so overwhelmed by Cathy’s barrage of questions that she could hardly complain while Cathy barged into her apartment, hands poking and prodding her all over for signs of sickness or an injury.

“C-Cathy! What the hell?!” exclaimed Allison. Cathy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, you look a lot better now, at least,” she said.

“Yeah, er, well, like I said, I just didn’t sleep, right? I t-took a nap, and now I’m all good! You really didn’t have to come here,” Allison said, trying to recall her excuse from earlier while simultaneously nudging Cathy out the door. Cathy wasn’t having it, though.

“I’m so glad to hear that, Allie, you have no idea. I’ve never seen you look like that,” she said.

“Yeah, well, thanks for the concern. You can go now,” Allison replied.

“No, no, no, don’t think you’re getting away from me so easily. Even if you’re better now, that doesn’t mean something else isn’t going on. I’m already here, so let’s go out!” Cathy exclaimed. Realizing that Cathy wasn’t going to leave without a fight, Allison began to sweat nervously.

“Thanks, but that’s not really a good idea. I’m… still not feeling, uh, great. I don’t have the energy,” she stammered.

“It’s not like we’re headed to the club or anything, silly. Let’s just go grab some dinner, maybe walk around for a while. Get out of this stuffy place for a while, yeah? You’ll feel way better.” Cathy suggested.

“Cathy, I really-”

“Here’s the plan,” Cathy started. “Let’s go to this awesome italian restaurant. I think one of the waiters has a crush on me, so I get free stuff sometimes. After that, let’s walk to a nice ice cream place nearby. Let’s just go have some fun! I promise, you’ll be feeling better in no time.”

At that, Cathy did a spin for emphasis. Unfortunately for Allison, though, Cathy was not paying attention to her surroundings. As Cathy’s bag spun around, it ran right into the potted plant on the table next to the front door. It went flying, and violently crashed into the floor, breaking the plant pot on impact.

The plant was on the floor, dirt was scattered everywhere, and there were shards of ceramic just waiting for somebody to step on them.

“Shit, Cathy!” Allison cried, before dropping to the floor to try and collect any sharp pieces of ceramic.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should have looked where I was going,” Cathy apologized.

“It’s fine,” Allison sighed as she began to bunch up the dirt.

“Look, let me help you with that,” Cathy started. “Let me just use the bathroom first, okay? Can you tell me where it is?”

Seriously? She breaks my pot and then demands to use the toilet? Allison thought.

“Down that hall,” Allison grumbled while pointing, too focused on the broken pot to really pay attention.

“Thanks, babe, be right back.”

~

After a couple minutes, the mess was more or less cleaned up. Allison breathed a heavy sigh.

So much for Cathy’s help, then, she thought. The hell is taking her so long?

Still sitting on the floor, she looked in the direction of the hallway, wondering where Cathy was.

At that moment, a realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, freezing her blood while stifling her breath.

The hallway. The bathroom. The bathroom door is next to my bedroom. I didn’t tell her which door. My door is open. Brian. Brian.

“CATHY!” Allison screamed at the top of her lungs. She quickly rose to her feet and began sprinting towards the hallway. When she turned the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks, feeling like she was going to have a heart attack.

There, standing right in front of her, was Cathy. On Cathy’s face was an expression of shock, confusion, anger, and excitement. Her hand was raised and slightly extended. In between her fingers was a small figure. It was a man. This man was one inch tall, completely naked, and he had messy black hair and striking green eyes. It was Brian Bentley.

Oh God…