Tricia === Tricia had four downsized dresses on her palm, arranged in a
line from her fingers to the heel of her hand. Her eyes scanned the dresses,
visualizing them on Kamila, scrutinizing whether the quality of the stitching
met her high standards for her downsizer. “Can I help you, miss?” said a meek voice out of nowhere. Tricia narrowed down her choices to two dresses. She liked
the pair that had plunging necklines and flowing skirts. The colors were too loud,
however. She wanted something more traditional—classical. “Miss?” Tricia’s eyes snapped to the counter where a downsized
woman, behind a protective glass dome, spoke through a cheap microphone and
speaker. Her voice crackled and was laced with static, making it sound akin to an
AM radio. She was in a brightly lit boutique store that sold human and
downsized woman's clothes. Innate prejudices instantly filled Tricia’s mind
upon seeing the worker with a nametag the size of a rice grain. Job
stealing, bitch. “Are there any humans I can talk to?” “Miss, I can help you as much as any human can.” So brave coming from someone locked up in a fishbowl. “If
I need something to pick my boogers, I’ll come looking for you. Are there any real
workers that can help me? Or does this place only employ the cockroaches it
finds in the dumpster?” The owner of the boutique kicked and banned Tricia from the
store, no more than five minutes after that comment. Tricia rolled her eyes and
fired back at the owner with a short rant, always getting the last word. She
left with her middle finger pointed at the owner as she walked away. Tricia took the bus down to the next shopping center. She
went through thrift stores, consignment shops, and outlet clothing stores,
looking for outfits for her Kamila. But none of it was good enough. There was
the mall … But she would die if any of her friends found her there browsing for
downsizer clothing. She walked to a big box store that everything from grocery
to car tires. They had an aisle full of downsizer items. Furniture, DIY houses made
from cardboard, clothing, carrying cases, and electric vehicles all scaled for
downsizers. Tricia pulled up her hoody, hoping no one would recognize her. As
she walked down the aisle, all the stuff available to downsizers fascinated
her. She pictured Kamila with each item and wondered how she would enjoy it.
She visualized Kamila in her own living room with a golf cart by her side. But
she didn’t need a golf cart to get around her room, Tricia reasoned. But it
would be fun as hell watching her drive it around. “Have any questions?” a human asked Tricia. “Yeah,” Tricia said, grabbing a downsized wheelchair from
the shelf. “175 bucks for this tiny ass wheelchair? That cost more than a real
one!” The employee shrugged. “Being small makes some stuff
expensive. They gots ta use lightweight metals and precision tools to create a
one-inch chair on wheels.” “Bullshit.” “Anything else I can help you with?” Tricia ignored him and kept walking the aisles. The clothing
was cheap, in terms of quality and price. Mass produced shit that even a Barbie
doll wouldn’t wear. Tricia picked out what she liked. Some shorts, shoes, a
bunch of shirts. Too bad she didn’t know Kamila’s cup size in terms of the
downsizer scale, but she knew her tits were well above average. Tricia bought an entire wardrobe, and had everything stashed
in a small plastic bag, which she then shoved in her jacket pocket. The bus
ride home was boring. Blue diesel exhaust wafted into the cabin, mixing with
the urine smell from inside. She looked out and saw the tubes of the Puny
Express, with its futuristic train zipping by. All the money that could’ve
been spent on humans, diverted to the second-class citizens of the city. Tricia
hated it. Hated them so goddamn much. - “Get your ass out here, Kamila.” Tricia kicked off her shoes
and pulled her hoodie over her head. Once comfortable, she saw her girl walking
out from under the bed with her head hung low. Tricia stomped over, scooped her
up, and jumped on the bed. With Kamila standing on her own feet on the bed,
Tricia pulled her left hand from her jacket and dropped the newly purchased wardrobe
at Kamila’s feet. “Got you some stuff.” Tricia was proud and gave the little
woman a delighted smile. She lay on her belly and kicked her feet up as she anticipated
Kamila’s reply. Kamila kept looking at her feet and wouldn’t acknowledge the
clothes. “Can you give me a fashion show? I want to see how you look
in everything.” “I hate you,” Kamila said flatly. “I hate you,” Tricia said, rocking her head back and
forth, mocking Kamila’s voice and accent. “What’s that gotta do with trying out
new clothes?” “You are the worst person I’ve ever met. I hate you. You
raped me, you abuse your own father, and you’re a murderer. Hell is too good of
a place for you.” “That’s a weird way of saying thank you to a friend.” “You are no friend.” “Are you stressed, Kamila? You know what will help you wind
down?” Kamila looked up, but didn’t respond. She gave the young
giantess a challenging stare that Tricia accepted. Both pairs of eyes locked;
Tricia with a subtle smug grin, and Kamila with despondent, furious stare. “You’re so sexy when you’re mad,” Tricia said. “I want to
have angry sex with you.” Kamila shook her head. “Say what it is.” Her accent was
thick as her anger bled into her words. “Rape. You want to rape me.” Her tone
was guttural, not sounding like they belonged to a timid Kamila. Tricia scoffed. “Ha! You think that’ll stop me.” Tricia
swung her legs off the bed and unbuttoned her jeans, taking them off one leg at
a time. Kamila cursed herself, realizing there was no reaching this
girl, no hope because of how far she'd fallen. A demon had sunk its talons deep
into Tricia’s soul and would not relent. Kamila stood below Tricia and prepared
for another disgusting session of being rubbed against the giantess’s genitals.
She could fight back. She would not win against Tricia in
the slightest, but she couldn’t let Tricia rape her without a fight. Besides,
what was Tricia going to do? The girl loved her too much to harm her. Beth and Mateo === “But this doesn’t solve the problem,” Beth said. “It’s just
pushing it off.” They were hiking through the dry New Mexico desert. She wore
her brown desert boots, yoga shorts, and a hot pink tank that flowed loosely
around her. Her sweat mixed with the sunblock, causing the fragrance to become
more pronounced for Mateo. The pheromone-rich aroma caused him to lust his
girlfriend every second that passed. Thank God they had gratuitous sex that
morning, otherwise he’d stopped Beth for a quickie out in the desert. “Finding an answer to the unregistered shouldn't be too
difficult. Nobody bothered asking me—just saying.” It was that time of year, when the mornings were cold, but
midday was still oppressively hot. Beth drank from her one-liter plastic bottle,
while her boyfriend sat on her shoulder, secured to her strap using shoestrings
and rubber bands. Mateo enjoyed the ride and breeze. Sometimes Beth’s hair
would whip against his face, but he enjoyed every aspect of her titanic body. Her
skin and hair felt enticing in his hands, and her scent surrounding him felt
comforting. He looked at his phone and finished reading Emma’s text. It
was a long essay, and it took several reads to digest what she was saying. “Okay,” Mateo said, “so, here’s what Emma’s got to say—Mayor
Pearson ran his candidacy on being tough on crime. He said most of the
crime in Lilliputian Lakes came from unregistered downsizers who stole
everything that wasn’t nailed down. He also pointed out that a significant
amount of tax money was being diverted from the citizens to the unregistered.” “Sounds like the bullshit sizeist humans push. Same
words, different people.” Beth held Mateo as she navigated through an arroyo.
Once across, she removed her hand and continued hiking. “Why can’t they just
help people get registered?” “They arrest and kick out anyone they find unregistered. You
know how Lilliputian Lakes have those walls that protect them from pretty much
everything? Emma says there’s a rumor about a hole they used to throw people
out. Like the Spartans throwing their babies over a cliff if they’re not deemed
worthy enough.” Beth stopped. “You’re fucking kidding me.” She sighed before
restarting her walk. “It’s just a rumor, at least. I hope it’s not true, because
I don’t see how a downsizer can survive this scorching desert. But anyway, Emma
is sure about this junkyard settlement. It’s where all the undesirables and
unhoused go. Mayor Pearson set up this bussing system for any unregistered
downsizers that want to work in Lilliputian Lakes, but still won’t let them
live in the town.” “That? That’s what they came up with? The point of
downsizing was to use fewer resources and be less impactful to the environment.
Are you telling me our government won’t help them?” Mateo scanned some news articles and read up on some Reddit
threads. “Beth, I think something more is happening here.” “What makes you say that?” “Well, doesn’t it sound strange that they want labor from
the unregistered, but refuse to give them homes in the city? Isn’t that a way
to keep power over some people? Amber said Kamila came from another country and
got caught up in some bureaucracy crap. But some people on the internet think
the mayor is un-registering normal citizens that disagree with his governing.” “Even if that’s true, what’s stopping humans from doing the
right thing?” Mateo turned off his phone and slipped it back into his
pocket. “Maybe we should be careful, Beth. It’s probably a good idea that no one
knows we discovered this settlement—if it exists. Because if what I read is
half-true …” “The fuck is a two-inch mayor gonna do about it?” Beth had
to walk around a rather large mesquite bush. Upon doing so, she could see the
glittering metal of long-abandoned vehicles rusting under the sun. “He’ll get people that work for him to downsize you forcefully,”
Mateo said with a flat voice. “For real?” “I don’t know.” Mateo let out a breath. “It’s all a rumor.
Doesn’t hurt to play is safe, though.” - The downsizers in the junkyard remained on high alert.
Someone had spotted a rattlesnake in the area, most likely drawn by their
scent. They crouched within the rotting carcasses of 90s era cars and peered
out into the bright desert day, searching for the predator. They pointed their
fingers out when they spotted the serpent quickly darting out from behind a bush
and slithering through the sand. It wasn’t heading into the junkyard; rather, it bolted
straight for the wilderness. A collective sigh of relief washed over them. Only
to realize that it was probably more concerning the snake left as quickly as it
did, since rattlesnakes weren’t active in the middle of the day. They only
moved like that for their own survival. What threat did it sense that made
abandoning easy meals worthwhile? The unregistered downsizers, numbering between 20 and 30, prepared
for the worse. It was probably a bobcat, but hopefully something benign, like a
deer or oryx. But what came down to their settlement was far more terrifying
than any wild animal. - Beth completed her hike when she reached the center of the
junkyard. It was a rather small junkyard. Slightly larger than two basketball courts,
with a dozen vehicles rusting away in a grid pattern. A shell of a wooden
building lazily stood by, deteriorating under the harshness of the environment
and filled with black widow spiders. The junkyard comprised a variety of
discarded items, ranging from old appliances to a tire pile. Beth sighed as she
looked around, realizing that she spotted no signs of life, though she felt
many eyes on her. “Hello?” Only the furnace-hot wind answered her questions.
“I come bearing gifts for you all!” She set her backpack on the ground,
unzipped the main pouch, and pulled out water bottles, a box of crackers, a bag
of jerky, and a carton of cookies. “This is all for you, and I expect nothing
in return. But you know what would be cool? If someone could talk to me, maybe?
I just have some questions to ask.” Her eyes scanned the graveyard for cars that, unfortunately,
were the homes for unwanted downsizers. If only they knew how much I wanted
them. Her eyes squinted and looked for any movement. After five agonizing
minutes of seeing nothing, Beth began doubting Emma was right about this place.
When Beth got back to town, she’ll give that little lesbian a piece of her
mind. “Maybe I can try?” Mateo asked. Beth set him down on the ground. Mateo viewed the world
radically differently from Beth, and from his perspective, he spotted places he
would seek to hide from the big world. A red Ford sedan, almost pink after
being struck with UV light for over 30 years, with paint chipping away, seemed
like the perfect hiding place to him. He walked straight for it. After making
20 steps, Beth made one and was back on top of him. He looked up and said, “I think it’s better if I go by
myself.” “No way! What if something happens?” “Then I’ll give you a signal to help me.” “What’s the signal?” “I’ll scream, ‘hey, Beth, I need help.’” Beth’s eyes looked up and to the side as she recounted what
he said. “Okay, I got it.” Tricia and Kamila === “Hey, what’s up?” “Lin, it’s me.” “Yeah, I know. I saw your name come up before I answered.” Tricia sat on her bed, her back against a pillow wearing her
pajamas pants, a white tank, and nothing more. Kamila sat at the foot of the
bed by Tricia’s bare feet. There was no escape for Kamila off the bed, so she
just stood there with a royally pissed off look on her face. Tricia stared back
as she spoke to her friend on her cell phone. “Trish? What’s up? Why’d you call?” Lin asked. “It’s about my …” Tricia trailed off. While Lin admitted she kept a downsizer alive for herself,
Tricia wasn’t about to let out the secret of her Kamila. But she needed advice.
She needed to know more about Lin and Brian’s relationship. Was it good? Did
Brian like Lin back? If so, could it work on Kamila? “What? I can’t hear you.” “Is your little guy still alive?” “That’s why you called?” Lin laughed. “You bet your ass he
is.” “So, that means he’s still useful to you …?” “I’ll say. This guy is unbelievable in bed. Why didn’t we do
this earlier?” “How’s he doing—I mean—does he hate what you’ve done to
him?” “Hate me?” Lin asked so loud her voice distorted over the
cell’s speaker. “My man loves me!” “How?” Tricia shouted while looking at Kamila. “After
everything you’ve done, he likes you?” “Loves me.” Lin corrected. “He loves the shit I make
him do. He’s a slave to my Asian pussy, and he services me whenever I want it. It
doesn’t matter if he’s tired, spent, sleeping, not in the mood, or whatever. He
exists for me! Brian knows it, and he loves it! My little man doesn’t want to
go back to his old life. He’s mine—at least until he’s served his purpose or I
get bored.” Tricia shook her head. “I don’t get it. I’ve treated my girl
good. Good food, comfy bed, freedom to walk around my room, new clothes,
coffee, and I pamper the shit out of her. She hates me, Lin!” “Uh, who the fuck are you talking about?” So much for that secret. “None of your fucking business!”
Tricia felt her heart pound in her chest. “I took your shitty advice and now
she hates me even more. What do I have to do to make her like me again?” Before Lin could answer. There was a single knock on the
door. Four things happened simultaneously in the next moment: the doorknob rotated
counterclockwise; Tricia’s eyes darted to Kamila and gave her a signal; Kamila
bolted forward from a seated position and dove into the opening of her pajamas
by her ankle; the door swung open. “Princess?” Melissa popped her head into the bedroom. “I
heard some shouting. Anything the matter?” As she waited for a response, the
rest of her body entered the room. “Just talking to Lin,” Tricia said, rocking her phone back
and forth for emphasis. She looked annoyed, but deep down, was nervous about
having her mother in her room. Steve was safe in his habitat under her bed, and
she felt Kamila bury her body under her calf. “Need something?” Melissa didn’t care for her daughter’s tone. “Yes, I want
you to spend time with the family instead of being locked in your room all day.
What are you spending your time doing, anyway?” Melissa walked forward until
she was beside the bed. Kamila trembled under Tricia’s leg. Steve had told her
stories about his ex-wife and her absolute hatred for downsizers. Melissa once
led a protest in front of Lilliputian Lakes, demanding the government remove the
subsidies NanoHabitats Corporation receives from downsizing citizens and
operating Lilliputian Lakes. This happened after Melissa divorced Steve and
assumed he was dead because he fell off the registrar and no one had seen or
spoken to him for over a year. The protest was rowdy. They banged on the
outside concrete walls that were the boundary between Lilliputian Lakes and the
big world. Kamila heard about those protests. Even though the humans
were on the other side of the concrete walls, they felt and heard their
shouting. Cops and DPS were called out to disperse the crowds. “Let me in
there!” Melissa shouted as the police pushed her back. “Just give me five
minutes alone with those society-draining parasites. I’ll solve the economy
problems with my boot!” Members of her inner circle hailed her words, while
everyone else decried them. “Was she serious?” Kamila asked during a physical therapy
session with Steve. “She used strong words, but did not mean them … right?” Steve found Kamila’s pronunciations charming and loved the
little nuances in her speech. Th- sound was absent in the Polish
language. So, when Kamila pronounced the word them, it came out like dem.
“I don’t doubt for a second she was anything but serious. I’m happy that Tricia
gave me a second chance at life when she swiped me after downsizing. But being
in the same home as Melissa frightens me.” “What if she finds you? What will she do?” “Probably ask me a thousand questions. Punish Tricia for
keeping me a secret. Take me prisoner. I don’t know, and I don’t want to find
out. That’s why if she comes close, I’m going over there.” He pointed at the
crack in the crown molding behind them. “It’s important that we hide from
Melissa.” “But can she not save us from Tricia?” “My princess has a good heart, Kamila.” He placed his hands
on her. “Believe me. No matter what happens, she has a good heart.” “But she killed three people.” He squeezed her hands until she winced. “That wasn’t her!” “Yes, it was! I saw it! Steve, she took joy in killing. And
she hurts you so much. Why you say she has good heart?” Steve took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. “You’ll
know when you see it. Have faith in my little girl Kamila. I do.” Tricia raped Kamila days later. Kamila hadn’t spoken to
Steve about it, but if she had, she would’ve been blunt: Tricia was the
embodiment of evil. There was no good left, and whatever faith Steve had in his
daughter was delusional. And if Steve could be so wrong about Tricia, he could be
wrong about Melissa as well. Wouldn’t it be so bad if Kamila jumped out of
Tricia’s pajamas and waved the giantess mother down? Kamila could explain to
Melissa that Tricia was keeping her as a captive, and that her ex-husband, with
an amputated leg because of Tricia, was under the bed and in need of medical
attention. This nightmare could end if Kamila had the strength to ask for help
from Melissa. “Have you seen my purse, princess?” “Quit calling me that!” Tricia snapped with a volume louder
than necessary. “And, no, I haven’t seen your dumb purse.” “I’ll call you princess all I want.” “I’m asking you to stop,” Tricia said, with her phone still
up to her ear. Over the speaker, she could hear Lin laugh and mockingly call
her princess over and over. “Only dad has ever called me that, and it
sounds weird when you say it.” “Aww, baby, are you thinking about your dad?” Melissa asked.
Kamila thought it sounded sincere. “Is that why you’re upset?” Tricia's face hardened as she regarded her mother, her eyes
narrowing with a creased forehead. “I’m trying to talk to my friend and not
think about that traitor.” “Traitor? A little melodramatic, are we?” “What would you call him?” She threw back in her mother’s face. “I’d call him my ex-husband. The father to my daughter. I
don’t know. What do you expect me to call him?” Melissa wanted to sit on the
bed next to her daughter, but Tricia didn’t move, nor did she seem inviting. “But
don’t call him a traitor, baby. He’s your dad, and you were his whole world.” Tricia rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” What the hell am I doing? Kamila thought. Melissa
was not the woman Tricia and Steve portrayed. Either stay here and get tortured
or take my chances. Kamila wiggled from under Tricia’s calf muscle and
crawled with determination towards the light at the end of the pajama tunnel. The
pajama’s fabric, even at her scale, was soft with its fuzziness feeling like shag
carpeting with fiber as long as corn husks. The fibers became the Red Sea,
parting ways to Kamila’s frantic escape. At first, Tricia thought Kamila was adjusting herself. But
then she felt her trying to run out of pajama pants. She shifted her leg and
pinned Kamila between the heel of her foot and her lower calf. Kamila screamed,
but Tricia silenced her with another adjustment that pressed Kamila’s face
against the bed. “Did you hear that?” Melissa asked. “It’s Lin, mom.” Tricia lifted her phone for her mother to
see. “Can I please get a minute to talk to her?” “Hmm? Oh yeah, sure. Come downstairs and watch TV with us
when you’re done.” Melissa left and closed the door. Tricia told Lin to wait a
second and then placed her on hold. Tricia lifted her foot and grabbed Kamila
in her fist. “The fuck is wrong with you?” Tricia asked. “You trying to
get caught?” “Yes!” “Why?” “I have to get away from you. I hate you.” “You’re not leaving me! You’re mine.” “I am not your possession.” “Kinda fucking looks like you are, huh?” She jerked her
wrist left-and-right, causing Kamila’s brown hair to whip across her face. “If
I ever catch you trying to escape me Kamila, I will fucking kill you. Slowly. I
will rip your arms and legs off like flower pedals. And I won’t stop there. I’ll
go find that junkyard you came from, and I will systematically kill every
living thing there and make you watch. I don’t care what their age is, or what
their background is. No sob story will fucking stop me from cleansing this
world of little leeches. And when it’s all done, I’ll throw you into my mouth
and chew on your bones. Fucking try me Kamila. Try to escape. Try to talk to
mom. I dare you. I swear to God, fucking try me, because I’m not in the mood to
deal with your shit.” Kamila didn’t retort. She could see the white fiery flames
behind Tricia’s eyes, and felt her molten breath, laced with spittle, blast
into her. This was the angriest Tricia’s been towards her. Did Kamila go too
far? Did she lose her favorable position with Tricia? Tricia crawled over the edge of the bed and hung her head
upside down as she looked for her father. He was returning from the hiding spot
in the wall. “Are you okay, dad?” “Yes, princess.” Tricia nodded and came back up to the bed. Kamila was still
in her fist, only her head, and visible. Tricia held the frightened Polish
woman to her face and, with the slowness of a sloth, lifted her phone back to
her ear, unmuting and resuming her call with Lin. “So, like I was saying, how the fuck do I get her to like me,
even though I treat her like a fucking queen?” “The hell, Trish?” Lin’s voice amplified how annoyed and
confused she was. “Did you put me on hold? You didn’t want me to hear your
talk, princess?” “Call me that again and slap the shit out of you the next
time I see you.” “Goddamn! What’s wrong with you?” Tricia let out a disgruntled grunt that went up in pitch.
“It’s—it’s the nurse. Okay? She’s alive because I like her a lot.” Tricia
looked into Kamila’s green eyes as she spoke, not looking away or even
blinking. “I’m not exaggerating. I’ve treated her like a queen. Her life is a
thousand times better than it was in Lilliputian Lakes. She doesn’t have to
work. She eats good. I reward her with a warm bed and living space. She has no
worries in the world. I wanted to show her how much she meant to me, so we had
sex one night. I tried doing it again today, but we didn’t go through with it,
because of her attitude. She’s so disgusted with me she’s trying to escape in
the worst way possible. All thanks to your stupid advice, by the way.” “My advice? What are you talking about? I didn’t even know
you had a downsizer.” “You told me you had sex with Brian because that’s what you
wanted. He had to do what you wanted. And now he loves you.” Lin snorted over the phone. “What works for us doesn’t mean it’s
gonna work for you.” “Huh? Just tell me what to do!” “I don’t know.” Lin whined. “Punish her.” Kamila, hearing both sides of the conversation clearly,
shook her head no. “She’ll just hate me more if I hurt her.” “Okay, then pamper her until she does.” “Haven’t you been listening? That doesn’t work.” “Then what do you want me to tell you? If you’re trying so
hard and she doesn’t like you, just get rid of her. Find a downsizer that
appreciates you instead of trying to fix a broken one.” Tricia was a statue, holding Kamila still, her gaze more
harrowing than that of Medusa’s. Kamila overlooked something crucial about
Tricia that was in front of her the entire time. Tricia wasn’t evil and wrapped
up in the devil’s leash. She was sick—mentally. “Hey, are you still there? Dammit, did you put me on hold again?” “See you on Monday, Lin.” Tricia hung up. Beth and Mateo === Mateo found the unregistered downsizers hiding inside the
cars, whether it be in the engine compartment or inside the cabin itself. They
crafted living spaces where they could, using everyday objects to create some
semblance of a home. Upon seeing their living condition, Mateo’s heart sunk. They used paperclips extensively as building material. Junk
mail as flooring and walls and rags as bedding. Downsized books and their
phones appeared to be the only entertainment they had. The lighting was poor,
provided by the colander holes created by rust in the car’s metal. It smelled
of oil and decades old upholstery baking in the sun. “What are ya doing with that human?” Mateo invading their spaces didn’t bother them; the giantess
towering over their settlement did. They didn’t want to talk or listen to Mateo
until he explained the athletic giantess. When he told them Beth was his
girlfriend, he could see the junkyard dweller’s minds explode. They didn’t
believe him and asked why he really was there. “I’m looking for a nurse named Kamila. Do you know her?” Out of a dozen people asked, only one person knew about
Kamila. Well, not by name. But they knew a nurse lived in an old red Dodge
sedan. “Thanks. By the way …” Mateo looked at their surroundings.
How could society abandon these people and expect them to live out here in a
dump? It both infuriated and depressed him to no end. He knew Beth’s ulterior
motive in establishing a shelter was so she could surround herself with tiny
downsizers, but surely these people could overlook Beth’s harmless obsession
for a better life … right? “My girlfriend—the human—has a room in her apartment
for downsizers. No bugs, air-conditioning, running water, power, and food. It’s
got everything. Um, would you rather live with us instead of out here?” He
waved out his arm at their environment. Mateo received the same type of responses from everyone he
spoke to. It was along the lines of, “Fuck no.” Mateo tried to press the point,
but no one budged from their original position. They looked at Beth through the
rusted-out slits in the metal and saw the giantess looming over them like a
monster. “She’s one of them!” “Excuse me?” Mateo was climbing down through a hole in the
cabin when an old woman stopped him. “She’s one of those girls that likes to kill tiny folk! I
see it in her eyes. She wants to kidnap and kill us—and you’re her accomplice!”
Her deformed finger pointed at him. “I swear, Beth is the opposite of what you’re describing.
She wants to help everyone here. She’ll take the shirt off her back if it meant
keeping you warm and safe.” “You take me as some old fool?” She had a hump and her
clothes were filthy. It took great willpower for Mateo not to gag from her
stench. He could also see she was missing teeth and one eye was milky. “She’s
come back for the rest of us, because she knows nothing will stop her from stealing
us and killing us.” Mateo let out a breath. “She wants to give you a better
life.” “She wants to finish the job!” “I … What are you talking about? She’s never been here.” “Yes, she was. She was one of them. The girls that ambushed
the Lilly bus. She ate ‘em. She ate ‘em. I know it. I heard about. She’s the
one that did it—you can tell by looking at her.” “Wait—are you saying some human girls came here and ambushed
a downsized bus?” Mateo asked. The woman nodded as he asked the question. “And one
girl ate … someone?” - Mateo crawled down the hole in the passenger side of the
car, jumping down on the driveshaft, which sloped into the desert floor, having
fallen off by one side. His girlfriend spotted him coming out into the blinding
sun at the side of the vehicle. Must’ve been an adventure inside, because he
initially climbed through the radiator. Beth dropped her hand and picked him up. She eagerly asked
him how things went, and Mateo was blunt about it. He told her that no one
wanted to take her up on the offer. “What?” Beth forced a smile on her mouth, but her eyes betrayed
her outward appearance. She was crushed. “No one wants my help? You told them I
don’t want money or, or, or anything from them, right? I just want them to … I
want to protect them.” He changed the subject. “Do you see a red Charger out here?
I think that’s where Kamila lives.” Beth walked around and spotted the only Charger in the
junkyard. She didn’t see a way into the vehicle, but figured Mateo would find a
way in. She set her boyfriend down and begged him to convince the downsizers
about her legitimate shelter. Mateo patted her fingers and promised to try. - The back tires to the Charger were gone, causing the ass-end
of the car to rest on the desert floor. Mateo spotted the entrance after
several minutes of searching. Once inside the trunk of the car, Mateo found several
living spaces. It was a shantytown with napkins hanging from wires that were
scavenged from the engine’s wiring harness. The napkins acted as walls that
divided the trunk. Mateo felt the coziness of the settlement, despite how
gloomy it appeared. To imagine, there were downsizers living in mansions that
cost a tenth of a normal-sized 1200 square foot home. The cost-of-living was a
joke for a downsizers—hence the appeal to downsizing. Yet, there were people
like Kamila, barely making enough to live off and not allowed to live like
normal people. She was living in a trunk of a 2006 charger that was wrecked,
rusted, dilapidated, in the New Mexico desert where wildlife roamed. What the
hell kind of life was that? It frustrated Mateo. He never knew this place existed
when he was human. He knew he would’ve done something about if only he knew.
But now … What could he do? Beth was the answer. That’s how he could help these people. There
was a new sense of purpose as he walked between napkin walls. These people
deserved better, and he’ll do anything to convince them that his girlfriend was
no monster—but the hope they’ve been praying for. “What do you want?” The redhead snapped. Mateo hadn’t said a
word, and she was already weary of him. She wore a shirt and skirt, all hemmed
by her using the mishmash of material available to her, making it appear like a
patchwork quilt. “I’m looking for someone. A nurse. Someone told me I could
find Kamila here.” “Well, she ain’t here no more.” The redhead had her arms
crossed. “So, you can stop wasting your time and go back to your owner.” “Beth is my girlfriend; not my owner.” She rolled her eyes. “Drop it, okay? No one is going to
believe that shit. We all know you work for the mayor, so just come out with
it. What the fuck do you want? Kamila is dead. Murdered by the same humans your
girlfriend works for.” “Kamila is dead?” Mateo's face dropped. He sat on a
human-sized thread spool, which was sized perfectly as a chair for him. He
dropped his head between his legs as he came to terms with the news. “We’re too
late.” “The hell is wrong with you?” Mateo looked up at the redhead. She was maybe only a few
years older than him. “Who did this?” “What do you mean?” “Who killed her?” A fire was growing within Mateo. “I don’t know. Not that it matters.” “It matters! Please, tell me everything you know.” The woman looked at Mateo with zero emotions. She spotted
him wondering inside the trunk from the entrance they had punched through the back
seat. She stood outside her dwelling where she and her mother lived. What
would’ve completed her look would’ve been a cigarette, but those things were
scarce for an unregistered downsizer. After a minute, she cracked and said, “Okay, fine. It was
the five o’clock work bus heading back from LL. My mom and I couldn’t reach the
bus stop in time, but I saw Kamila, in her scrubs, get on. The bus took off despite
us yelling at it. We had to wait an hour for the next bus. When I got back
home, I found out from the others that Kamila’s bus never made it back, and
there were a bunch of people missing. This guy I know said he saw two girls through
their binoculars. An Asian girl, and another with light brown hair, and a
resting bitch face.” “Thanks.” It was little, but at least it was something.
“I’m sorry, but I never asked your name.” The woman hesitated and looked like she was struggling
internally. “Anything wrong?” “Come clean. Who do you work for?” “I don’t have a job. I’m in high school. My friend in class
told me Kamila went missing and was worried about her. So, Beth and I’ve been
tracking every little clue we could find on her and ended up here. We thought
we made a breakthrough, but after the stuff you told me … I don’t know.” Mateo
scratched his head and got up from the spool. He walked around, taking in the
scenery. There was this yellowish hue like vomit created by sunlight creeping
in through the trunk’s ceiling, interacting with the peach upholstery. It
looked so miserable inside the trunk, which 7 families called home. “But your
information will be enough. I’ve got some friends Beth and I can talk to that
might help us. I really hope Kamila is still alive. We’ll find her—if not,
we’ll find who’s responsible for this.” “So, you’re not with the mayor?” Mateo stopped pacing and turned to face her. She was
slightly taller than him. “Why do you bring him up? What do you know about
him?” “Answer me first.” She gave him a death stare. “I don’t work for the mayor or anyone else. Me and Beth are
just trying to find Kamila.” “Thank you.” She tilted her head in annoyance. “You asked my
name. It’s Felicia.” Mateo nodded. “Thank you, Felicia. By the way, Beth has some
space in her home for downsizers—I know what you’re going to say, so just hear
me out—Beth is opening her home to anyone that needs it.” Mateo gave his spiel about his and Beth’s plan in opening a
shelter for needy downsizers. It had all the amenities a downsizer could ask
for. But Felicia seemed unconvinced, like the others. Mateo tried hard, like a
used car salesman, to convince Felicia of Beth’s genuine intentions. “You mentioned your mom,” Mateo said. “Can you ask her what
she thinks?” “My mom is legally blind. You think I should add to her suffering
by asking her to live with ungodly humans?” “For the last time, Bethany is not like that!” “‘Bethany?’ I thought Beth was short for Elizabeth.
What’s her full name?” “Bethany Palmetto.” Mateo noticed a complete mood swing in
Felicia. She seemed to lower her defenses and even dropped her crossed arms. After several moments, Felicia said, “Okay. We accept your
offer to house us and feed us.” “Really? Just like that? What made you change your mind?” “Less questions, more packing.” - Mateo carried all their belongings in one duffel bag.
Felicia helped her mother out of the trunk and into the open of the desert. The
mother, Lillian, was receptive to her daughter’s suggestion, placing all her
faith in what she said. After all, could living with a human be much worse than
a junkyard? Tarantulas, black widows, coyotes, bobcats, snakes … the list of
threats went on. And now there were rumors swirling of human girls kidnapping
busses. Seeking asylum with Beth wasn’t free of risks, but outweighed what they
currently had. Beth’s eyes lit up when she saw the three downsizers come
from out under the Charger after so many painstaking minutes. She squatted and
looked over at her boyfriend and the two women with rapture. That
sonofabitch did it! She smiled. Mateo introduced the women to Beth, and Beth greeted them.
She gushed over them and assured them they wouldn't be disappointed. She was
going to give them a comfortable home and take them away from the drudgery of
living in a literal junkyard. Beth spoke loudly so that the other unregistered
downsizers would hear, but no one took the bait. Not that it mattered at that
point. Two additional downsizers were coming home with her! Her inner soul
celebrated. Felicia’s heart stopped as the living mountain came down on
her. She looked at Mateo, who gaped at the giantess like it was the first time
seeing her. She could tell the mixed-size couple shared a loving connection;
however loving they appeared, her survival instincts internally screamed at her
to run. The surrounding field darkened under the shadow of Beth, which made her
presence seem more ominous. Mateo looked his age; that is, a high schooler on the cusp
of graduating. Beth, not so much. She looked like she was in the Olympics, closer
to Wonder Woman in terms of her full-body, laden with sensuous muscles,
powerful thighs and rear, than she was a girl. “Do …” Beth lost her voice. She cleared her throat and tried
again. “Do you give me your consent to hold you?” Felicia and Lillian weren’t in any government system, so
there was no signing CoH or protocol to abide by. Beth could theoretically just
nab them, and no one could say jack about it. Felicia appreciated how Beth took
time to ask for verbal consent without being pushy about it and reaffirmed her
original decision to seek refuge with the human with her mother. Besides, she
there was nothing to live for in the junkyard, and the added benefit of tagging
along with Beth would be the mayor not knowing where she and Lillian went. “You do, sweet child,” Lillian was the first to respond.
“Thank you for helping us.” She had a grandmother-like charm that made Beth explode on
the inside. She wanted to hug and squeeze the life out of Lillian for her
simple, sweet words. Her voice conveyed her gratitude and almost relief to get
out of this awful place. “You got mine too,” Felicia said. “Thanks for asking and not
assuming.” - Climbing onto Beth’s hand was something else. It was a cross
between a firm air-mattress and a giant, pulsating sponge. The flesh-covered
plateau was larger than a sedan, though the lack of safety rail around the
edges of the hand concerned Felicia. She guided her mother to sit in the
center. Though not completely blind, Lillian was reliant on her daughter to
help pick a sitting spot. Though as catastrophic as it was, losing one's sense
of seeing, her other senses became amplified and picked up on far more sensory
information than Felicia and Mateo. Lillian tuned to Beth’s heartbeat pulsing underneath her. The
two quick pulses, followed immediately by another pair in quick succession,
clued her in on the giant girl’s excitement. Lillian ran her fingers against
the skin of the palm, feeling every bump, ridge, callous, and roughness of the
skin. Each feature telling their own story. The girl smelled wonderful, but her
palms smelled earthy, with hints of her bag and the food she was handling
earlier. Beth must’ve shoved desert brush aside, because the distinct odor of oily
mesquite still lingered. Then there were the sounds of giantess. Silent to all
ears, except for Lillian’s heightened hearing. Beth was muttering something to
herself that even Beth wasn’t aware of. Something like, oh my God, oh my
God. They are so precious. I love them. Her breathing matched her elevated heart
rate. Inhaling baking desert air to fill her lungs, filling her red blood cell
with oxygen, then pumped through her heart and veins, to end up under the
fleshly cushion where Lillian sat. Lillian patted the giantess’s palm. “Aren’t you the
sweetest? I feel forever grateful that you made it out here, Bethany.” “Me too!” Beth tried controlling her voice. The downsizers
felt her hand tremble as she spoke. “Believe me when I say I’ll make your lives
as comfortable as possible!” The three downsizers sat in a ring on the giant palm. Mateo
tossed the duffle bag beside him. Beth used her other hand to grab her backpack.
After she slung it over her shoulders, she brought her hand close to her
precious cargo. She lifted them as gently as possible, remembering her training.
She always had issues with the GeForces exerted on the instruments because she
was always so eager to lift. But she fought herself and lifted the downsizers
as if picking up a full cup of water while balancing on a trapeze. Beth and her new friends made small talk as they left the
junkyard, leaving behind snacks and water. Though the portions were tiny and
wouldn’t keep a human satiated for a day, the mere snacks were like a feast for
the junkyard dwellers. At least things wouldn’t be completely miserable for
them that night. An Oreo the size of a dining table would bring a smile to
anyone’s face. Tricia & Kamila === “I should’ve seen it all along. You’re broken and not worth
keeping.” Tricia held Kamila a few inches from her face. Only her shoulders and
head peeked out from Tricia’s fist. The tiny nurse struggled, but the
giantess’s vice-like hold was unbreakable. “It doesn’t matter what I do. You’ll
always hate me, won’t you?” Kamila didn’t respond, which infuriated Tricia. The giantess
gave her a squeeze until she yelped and would not relent. Her serpent fingers
constricted Kamila until she turned a shade of purple. Kamila tried inhaling air,
but nothing could pass through to her lungs while Tricia squeezed her. This was
serious. This was the worst physical pain Tricia had inflicted on her yet. Her
eyes looked up pleadingly at the teen, communicating her willingness to change. Tricia loosened her grip on Kamila while forming a confused
look on her face. Kamila breathed in and sobbed as she looked up at the girl. “You want me to kill you,” Tricia said, as if solving a
murder. “Don’t you?” Kamila shook her head, her tears streaking across her
cheeks. She breathed through her mouth, showing off her teeth, as she forced
her lungs to expand with fresh air. That suffocation felt no different than
drowning. “You wanted this. Me to fucking kill you, so you can leave
me.” Tricia shook her head slowly. The pitch of her voice went up an octave as
she continued. “This is what it’s come to? You’d rather die than spend a second
longer with me? Is it because I’m fat?” This girl nearly killed her; and now she was asking if she’s
fat? Tricia was far from fat. But Kamila now knew what was happening. Tricia’s
disorder was clear as day to Kamila. “It’s my boobs, isn’t it? Lin’s tits are so damn big I bet
that’s why her tiny loves her so much. Well, I can’t help it, Kamila! This is
what I got.” Tricia squeezed her breast with her left hand. “I’m just a fat,
ugly human, and that’s why you hate me.” Tricia’s lips pointed downwards
as she struggled to hold back a cry. “Fine, Kamila! You win. I’ll kill you and
look for someone that isn’t as vain as you.” “Miss Tricia, stop! You are not fat and ugly. You are a
beautiful girl.” “Really?” Tricia sniffled. “You think I’m hot?” “Yes … You are one of the most attractive people I’ve ever
met!” Kamila said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “So, you wanna have sex? I’m getting wet just thinking about
you crawling inside me,” Tricia said with a lopsided grin. “Maybe now is not the time?” Tricia set Kamila on her pillow as she got out of bed. She
threw her arms up in the air before returning them to her hips. She was
distraught as a widower coming back from a funeral. Tricia fought her tears
back, but a few drops streaked down her cheeks. “You hate me?” Tricia asked, pointing at herself. “You hate
me? I fucking hate you, Kamila. You’re worse than my dad.” Tricia was in agony
as she looked around her room. “I hate my life. I hate myself. This is all
bullshit! I want to kill you so fucking bad, but I know if I do it, I’ll miss
you, because you’re the only one that makes me happy. I’m never happy.” “Princess …?” Steve walked from under the bed with his
crutch. “Not now, daddy.” Tricia leaned back against the far wall in
her room. She looked at Kamila, who was on the edge of her mattress and her dad,
who was on the floor-level, looking up at her with concern. “I’m just having …
I don’t know.” “I know,” Kamila said. “Miss Tricia, I know what’s wrong
with you.” Kamila was still gasping. “There’s nothing wrong with my princess,” Steve said. “She
just needs a moment to rest.” “Resting doesn’t do shit. It just makes me …” Tricia trailed
off. “With all due respect, Tricia is sick,” Kamila said. “She
must see a mental health doctor.” Tricia’s expression instantly changed. “You calling my psychotic,
you little Polish bitch?” - It wasn’t an easy conversation, but one that had to happen.
It took all of Kamila’s cunning to present her findings to Tricia delicately so
she wouldn’t explode on her. Before long, Steve joined Kamila and suggested the
girl see a professional. If anything, the doctor would rule out bipolar
disorder and that would be the end of it. “Please make the appointment,” Kamila said. Tricia felt like her dad and Kamila were ganging up on her,
urging to see a medical professional for her past behaviors. It was insulting.
She was a skyscraper to them; yet they held this impromptu intervention like
she was a child that couldn’t stop eating their boogers. They should’ve been
cowering to her, not agreeing with each other’s observations about her mood
swings. Kamila yelled down at Steve and vice versa as they shared anecdotes
about Tricia’s tender side and how they wanted to see more of that. She
left them. Walked out the door saying nothing. Fuck them. She spent a
few hours with her stepdad and mom on the couch. Late night TV was prime time
for pundits and talking heads to share their disgust of downsizers. They played
the religious angle—don’t play God by shrinking people. The economic angle—not
enough taxpayers to sustain retirement. What was absent in these debates were
the socio-economic reasons people downsized in the first place. It was too
fucking expensive to live. Downsizing wasn’t an option for people—but the
option. “Like,
Mateo,” Tricia muttered to herself as she listened to these dickheads lambast
the downsize. They kept playing to the fears of humans. Distracting them and
not pointing out that corporations were still making profits despite the
downsizing population. But investors and shareholders knew profits would stay
high, if consumption remained high. Downsizing ate into their already sky-high
profits. But it wasn’t enough. Downsizers ate into their bottom line, and thus,
they became the target of their ire. Braindead
anti-downsizing commentators, with no original thoughts to themselves, pushed
the agenda of landlords and corporations to redirect hatred and fear towards downsizers.
These same commenters didn’t know where their funding or platform came from.
But spouting downsize hate kept the paychecks coming. Every
jab towards a downsizer annoyed Tricia. In her mind, they weren’t saying
downsizer. They were saying Kamila. Only she was allowed to hate Kamila—not
them! Tricia massaged her temples. Were they right? Was she mentally ill? She
used to love watching these shows, but now they had the opposite effect. Or
maybe it was something more … “Anything
wrong?” Melissa asked. “What
if someone didn’t choose to downsize?” After clearing the pain in the center of
her mind, Tricia looked up at her mother. “Should we be blaming them for what’s
going on in the country?” Melissa
and her stepdad snickered. Tricia remained stone-faced. “Anyone
who downsizes made that choice. They gotta live with their consequences of bad
choices. So fuck ‘em all,” her step-dad said. Do I
really sound like that? “I’ve
never heard of an unwilling downsizers,” Melissa said. “You can’t get tricked
into downsizing. Those god-forsaken machines are guarded better than banks. People
can’t possibly be surprised when they shrink.” “But
that’s not true,” Tricia said. “Last year, journalist leaked China have been systematically
downsizing Hong Kong protestors. Middle Eastern countries downsize atheist and
homosexuals as punishment and toss them into dog kennels as prisons. Human
trafficking exists in every country. And I know people have fallen for scams—getting
downsized because of bad luck.” “Where
did you come up with that hippie shit?” her stepdad asked. Tricia
did her research. While Steve and Kamila thought she was perusing social media,
she read up on the scam Kamila fell for. That led to a rabbit-hole which
exposed the insidious side downsizing around the world. Tricia read it and
thought it was terrible. But those stories befell such a small percentage of
downsizers it didn’t shake her worldviews. Sure, it sucked for Kamila, but if
it weren’t for that medical college scam, the little Polish woman wouldn’t be
in her bedroom. But
something about these news programs and how her parents just accepted a
one-sided view—just got to her. Have they never questioned what they read and
saw? Sure, fuck the able working man that escapes societal expectations to live
in a dollhouse in a make-believe utopian world. Fuck that guy. But Kamila was
living proof that unwilling downsizers existed, and she shouldn’t be hated on. Tricia’s
head hurt. The downsizing topic wasn’t easy for her to keep straight. She both
hated and loved her dad and Kamila. Tricia agreed with her stepdad and mother,
but hated their hatred. Her torn mind made her think more about what Kamila
said. It was like 20 emotions trying to squeeze out the door at the same time. - Tricia spoke little to Steve and Kamila. She gave them space
and interacted little with them. She fed them, kept their water supply full,
and cleared the sewage. But that was it. - Tricia made an appointment with the school nurse to see a
mental health professional. She wanted to be angry with Steve and Kamila. She
wanted to threaten their lives and see them beg for mercy. But she also wanted
them to be proud of her. She wanted them to not fear her. She wanted
them to love her back as much as she … Tricia watched Beth and Mateo walk around the hallways
again. They looked so happy it made her vomit. They looked so stupid together.
An incredibly tall and athletic girl carrying a two-inch chew-toy. They had no
shame in showing off their fetish in public. Keep it in the bedrooms, freaks.
Someone rammed into Tricia’s elbow as she stood by her
locker. “Piss-bitch,” Hazel said, dressed in her skater-girl outfit,
as she walked up to Beth. Emma, on Hazel’s shoulder, held up her middle finger
for Tricia to see. Are they still mad about the toilet thing? Fucking get
over it. No one even died. - “Miss Tricia, wait,” Kamila sprinted for Tricia after the
giantess dropped off dinner one night. Tricia did not wait. She got out from under her bed and left
her room, choosing to do homework alone in the dining room, then spend it with her
ungrateful downsizers. “Please, I want to talk!” Tricia slammed the door behind her. - Her bedsheets were icy and would not warm to her body heat.
Her bedroom was silent, like an art gallery. The occasional cough from Steve
disturbed the stillness of the room like when a pebble shatters a glass-like
lake. Tricia spent several nights alone, without her Kamila against her chest. Tricia couldn’t sleep. Her eyes were open, looking out her
window into the night sky with tunnel vision. She knew what happiness was
briefly. Feeling her little woman nestled in her cleavage, or when Kamila lay
in the fetal position in her palm. Those tender moments brought a rare, genuine
smile to her face. Tricia didn’t know how to make someone like her. She thought
giving Kamila special treatment would be enough—but in the end, it wasn’t. She
showed off her power and how cruel she could be to downsizers, while giving
Kamila a comfortable, pampered life. And even that wasn’t enough. Tricia
royally screwed up, because Kamila hated her and practically called her
psychotic, pressuring her to see a shrink. And through all of this, Tricia tried to pinpoint where she
got it all wrong. She never thought a downsizer could make her happy, but now
that it did, it occupied her joyless mind. Maybe Kamila would’ve liked her—if
she wasn’t such a sizeist about everything. Beth === There was a knock on the front door. “I’ll be right back,
ma,” Felicia said, as she raced down the stairs. She turned the knob and opened
the door wide, revealing the face of a young woman taking up the entire door
frame. Only one of the giantess’s eyes was visible, with a nose longer than
Felicia’s legs. Though most of her mouth was not in sight, Felicia could tell
she was smiling widely. “Hiiii, Beth,” she said politely, with a tinge of
annoyance. “Good morning, Felicia!” Her minty breath wafted into the
downsized home. “Want some breakfast? Do you guys need water or coffee or
anything? How’s the water pressure? I can change the thermostat to anything you
want. Just let me know if it’s too hot or cold.” Felicia shook her head. “Umm, no. What I mean is that
everything is perfect here. You’ve given us everything we need and then some.” “Oh, okay! So …” Beth's eyes darted around as she thought
about something to say. “I … Uh, do you need a lift anywhere?” “A lift? Around your apartment?” Felicia asked. She saw
Beth’s expression drop as she realized how dumb of an offer that was. She
didn’t want the girl to suffer, so she asked Beth what she really wanted. “Did
you want to hold me?” Beth’s eyes lit up. “Uh, yeah. I really do.” “Okay.” Felicia stepped out of the downsized home and met
Beth out in front. They were in the spare bedroom of Beth’s apartment. It was
primed to house dozens of downsizers. The miniature homes around the room were
cheap, mass-produced plastic downsized homes, but were exponentially better
than what they had in the junkyard. Felicia and Lillian got the ‘best’ quality
house in the neighborhood. A quaint two-story home that matched the architect
of the old neighborhoods of San Francisco. It was the second day of living with Beth and Mateo. The
human girl had been constantly hovering over them, offering everything under
the sun, from food to fresh blankets. It was like an over-eager room service. It
was funny to think about their trepidation the previous day because they didn’t
know what Beth’s true intentions were. Did she want to torture them, or were
downsizers a fetish to her? Given her actions in the past 15 hours, they felt
like they were her obsession. But in a good way. From a polluted junkyard with
wild animals skulking about and limited water and food, to the lap of luxury.
Felicia guessed that if she asked for a steak, Medium-rare, Beth would drop
everything, run to the grocery store, return, and cook it perfectly without
hesitation. The ride in Beth’s hand gave Felicia vertigo, but it was no
fault to the giantess. Elevating to great heights on flesh, rather than a
mechanical machine, would take time to get used to. Beth’s eyes were bigger
than her head, with pupils the size of dinner plates. Felicia felt them
scanning her body and going over every inch. There was zero malice in Beth’s
eyes. Instead, they were full of curiosity and admiration. “How long have you been downsized?” “Seven months.” “Whoa, not that long.” “Yeah, well.” “How’d you end up in the junkyard?” “Pissing off the right people will make it happen.” “Who?” “Mayor Pearson of Lilliputian Lakes. It’s why my mom and I
find ourselves downsized. It’s why they tossed us in the junkyard. And it’s
also why the bus my mom and I were supposed to ride got fucked up.” “Wait, you didn’t want to be downsized?” Felicia shook her head. “Hell no. I’d rather be holding you
instead of this.” “Oh.” “But I’m happy you found us, Bethany. That and opening your
home to my mom and me. I knew we could trust you.” “You did—wait, you said the mayor is trying to kill you? Why
would anyone want you dead?” “Like I said. Piss off the right people. If that douche
wanted me dead, I’m sure I wouldn’t be here right now. I think it was more of
an opportunity that he allowed to happen. Whatever. I hope that shit is over
now that we’re with you.” “You bet it is! I won’t let anyone I don’t trust near you!
Nobody messes with downsizers while I’m around.” - “Did you bother them again?” Mateo asked. “Maybe.” “Beth, that’s like fourth time this morning.” “I can’t help it! There are two cute downsizers in my home,
and you expect me to ignore that?” “Well, you got a cute downsizer right in front of you …” Beth smiled. She swiped Mateo off the floor and took him to
her bed. Felicia === “You guys got any booze? Vodka, beer? Shit, I’d take
clear-grain alcohol at this point,” Felicia said. “Not quite old enough to buy that stuff yet.” “Christ.” “How are you and your mother doing here?” “Oh, it’s a billion times better than the trunk of a car.
That’s for sure. Not having to deal with the extreme temperature drops at night
is probably the best part. No—I take that back. Not dealing with scorpions is
the best part.” “Sheesh, that’s sounds awful. Do you think we can convince
others to come here?” “I think so. If my mom and I do the talking, we can probably
get more. But you gotta understand, some people will never trust a human. They
could be the fucking Pope, and they’ll still not trust them. There’s just some
trauma that can’t be overcome.” “We should try. We should keep trying until we house
everyone in the junkyard. No one should live like that.” Felicia looked over at him, seeing the determination in his
eyes. She smirked to herself and admired his moxie. They were sitting on the
porch of the house, looking out at Beth, who was working on stretches before
she went out for a run. Beth wore a two-piece spandex set, showing off a ton of
skin. They felt each move she made by the tremors on the ground as she extended
her long legs and bowed. “How long have you guys been together?” Felicia asked. “Couple of weeks.” “How’s having sex with a giant like that?” Mateo nearly spat out the lemonade he was drinking. He
blushed hard. “I, uhm, I wouldn’t know.” Felicia laughed. “Don’t give be that shit. These walls might
be thicker than a building, but I can hear you guys every night. I’m surprised
you’re still walking after those screams I’ve heard.” Beth and Mateo === Weeks after picking up Felicia and Lillian, Mateo felt like
he was no closer to finding Amber’s nurse. There were no clues to follow except
for heresy description of the girls that kidnapped the bus: an Asian girl and
another with light brown hair. “C’mon, Emma, you oughta know something,” Mateo asked her
during lunch one day. “Fuck off, I told you everything.” Emma was friendly, though
her words were spicy, something Mateo was used to by now. They sat on Hazel’s
tray, eating scraps from the human girl’s plate while talking about Kamila. “You
need to go back out there. Go full detective mode on their asses, and question
everyone like they’re hiding something.” “Yeah, I think you’re right.” “Think? I am right.” She tossed a corn kernel that
was basketball-sized at his chest. “And bring Haze and me next time. We want to
help too. And if we can’t convince them, I’ll have Haze drug them with her
stinky feet.” “I heard that!” Hazel said from up above. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, bigfoot.” Emma stuck
her tongue out at her girlfriend. Hazel grabbed a bread roll that was hollowed out in the
middle and brought it down on Emma, stuffing her in the bread. Emma tried
running, but Hazel was faster. In the wake of scooping her was one of Emma’s
sneakers and a disembodied scream. Hazel playfully squeezed the bread that
contained her girlfriend. “Sorry about that, Ma-mateo,” Hazel said. “She’s been extra
sassy today. Imma have to take her down a notch.” “What are you going to do?” Beth asked. “Since she likes my feet so much, I’ll take off one of my
socks and toss her in. Then I’ll tie the open end shut.” “Oh, come on!” Emma’s muffled voice came from the bread
roll. “Don’t make me suffer like that!” “Don’t act so coy! We all know you like it. Besides, I want
my girl so sexed after school, you’ll stick to me like a fly on honey.” - Mateo laughed while he watched Hazel and Emma go at it. Something
caught his attention to his right while his gang kept talking. A chilly shiver
ran down his spine as he saw his ex-girlfriend looking at him from several
tables down. She looked pissed. Mateo took a few steps subconsciously towards
Beth as Tricia looked on. Tricia was wearing jeans and a shirt, sitting at her table,
but not touching her lunch. It was as if Mateo entranced her. Mateo looked at
who sat across from Tricia and saw her good friend, Lin. Those two seemed to
always roam in pairs, like the incident in the locker room. A realization came over Mateo that made the world around him
fade. His gut dropped as he looked at his ex-girlfriend’s light brown hair and
her Asian girlfriend. Two people he knew disregarded downsizers and held hatred
for them. The butterflies in Mateo’s stomach threaten to make him sick. Do they
have anything to do with Kamila’s disappearance? Tricia === She shook the orange prescription bottle in front of Kamila
like a maraca. “I bet you’re sooo happy now,” Tricia said. “I am,” Kamila said. “Miss Tricia, I really am. You’re taking
an important step towards self-care.” “Yeah, whatever.” She jumped on her bed and held Kamila and
Steve on her stomach as she read the label on the bottle. “This doesn’t work
for everyone, so there’s no guarantee it’ll help me.” She took a pill and
swallowed it without water. “So don’t get your hopes up. I still might torture
and kill you guys before I find a prescription that works.” “Princess, I’m so proud of you,” Steve said. “Kamila and I
are cheering for you, and we know you’ll start feeling better in no time. We’re
here for you!” “Wanna watch some funny videos?” Tricia asked. Both Kamila
and Steve nodded. Tricia’s phone was a cinema screen for the downsizers. She
looked over their shoulders and watched internet videos for about half an hour
until Tricia’s stomach growled for food. She left the bedroom and came back for dinner. The three hung
out, sharing a meal, watching more videos on her cell, and making small talk.
They went to bed together once it got late. Tricia spooned her downsizers,
keeping them close to her stomach and hips. Her warmth was so intense, they
didn’t need a blanket, because, for the first time, her presence basked them in
comfort. - Tricia giggled. “Polish is not real, I swear!” Kamila laughed. “Come now, say it!” Tricia fought back her smile and tried to get serious.
“Okay, okay.” Tricia sniffed and relaxed. “Zhee-quya?” Kamila fell on the floor, laughing. “That’s nowhere close!” She smirked. “Shut up, you little Polish sausage.” Tricia
was on her stomach, her feet resting on her pillow, and her chin propped up on
her arms. Kamila was giving her Polish lessons again. It’s been over a week
since she started her medication, and things were getting better every day. “Okay,
say it again!” “Dziękuję.” “I don’t … what?” Tricia cackled. “I don’t even know how you
make those sounds!” “I’ll break it up.” Kamila gathered herself after laughing
so much at Tricia’s attempts. Tricia’s tongue twisted more times than a pretzel
when saying basic words. “Jehn – koo – yeh” “Okay.” Tricia took a breath. “Dziękuję!” “Very good! You got it this time.” “Thank you.” Kamila lifted a disciplinary finger and wagged it. “Ah-ah, proszę
po polsku.” “Dziękuję.” Tricia rolled over on her back and stretched. “Okay,
that’s enough lessons for today. What do you want to do for the rest of the
day?” “I have to check on your father,” Kamila said as she walked
closer to Tricia. “He needs his leg massaged to help with circulation.” “You can do that later. I was thinking you try out all those
clothes I bought you,” Tricia said, turning her head. “You never gave me that
fashion show, you know.” “Maybe some other time.” “C’mon!” Tricia whined. She got out of bed and looked for
the clothes she bought for Kamila. They were still in a bag under her bed. She
dumped the clothes at Kamila’s feet. Tricia’s telephone pole-sized fingers
rummaged through the items until she picked out a skirt and shirt. “I couldn’t
find any fucking dresses I liked, so this will have to do.” Kamila grabbed the outfit from Tricia with hesitant hands. She
looked up at the giantess and said, “Umm, where can I change?” Tricia’s confusion showed in her contorted facial
expression. “Just change in front of me. Not like we haven’t seen each other
naked.” Tricia giggled. “You were inside me, after all.” Kamila trembled as that event that she tried burying came to
the forefront of her mind. She couldn’t even look at Tricia anymore. Noticing Kamila shutting down in front of her, Tricia asked,
“What’s wrong?” Kamila spoke with such a low volume, Tricia hardly picked up
on it. “You raped me.” Tricia sighed. “Oh … that.” Tricia looked away, too
embarrassed to look her in the eye. “I’m sorry, Kamila. It probably doesn’t if
you knew I did that because I thought you’d love me back, right?” “That’s no excuse.” “I know, I know. I’m sorry. If I could undo that, I would! But
what should I do? Tell me how I can make this up to, and I’ll fucking do it.
Anything, I swear!” “You can’t.” - “Why can’t Kamila just accept I
made a mistake?” Tricia asked her dad. She was in her bathroom getting ready
for school, priming her hair. “Shouldn’t she see my intentions were good? We
didn’t have sex because I wanted to get off. I wanted her to like me for once.” “You thought by forcing sex … it
would make someone like you?” Tricia set her hairbrush down on
the counter and looked at her dad. “Well, when you say it like that.” “Princess, I don’t know if
Kamila will forgive you, but there are ways of not making this worse. Give her
space, listen to her feelings, and respect whatever decisions she makes.” “What if Kamila says she wants
to leave?” “Then you let her leave.” “Fuck you, I won’t let that
happen.” “And why is that?” “I know what’s best for her. And
that’s me! Living with me and taking care of you is her life. She won’t go back
to living in a giant car by herself, because she doesn’t deserve that.” “I suppose you can force her to
stay with you.” “Can and will.” “Let me finish,” Steve said. He
used his crutch to walk closer to his daughter. The sink basin was close to his
right. “You force Kamila to do something against her will, and she’ll resent
you. Or you can give Kamila her freedom, and maybe … maybe she’ll forget about
you and never talk to you again. But there’s a chance she’ll appreciate you for
granting her freedom.” Tricia rolled her eyes in
anguish. “That’s the worst idea you’ve had since you downsized. I’ll just keep
working her down until she realizes I’m the best thing that ever happened to
her. She’ll love me … it’s only a matter of time.” “Princess, that’s a bad idea. If
you’re looking for a romantic relationship with Kamila, that’s not the way to
go about it.” “What do you know about
relationships? You’ve been alone most of your life.” She gently scooped her dad
with his crutch. “You’re suggesting I let Kamila go. I’ll never see her again
if I do that. Nah, I know what I’m doing.” Steve pleaded again. “Y’know, I think these pills are
working. I would’ve punished you for talking back, but I don’t really feel like
it right now. Good for you, huh?” Tricia smiled. “I appreciate your advice, but
they fucking suck. I’ll do what I think is right, so I don’t become a lonely
loser like you.” Tricia returned her dad to his
living room under her bed and waved her fingers at both Kamila and Steve, saying
nothing further. She slipped on her flip-flops and headed out for school. Mateo === “You sure about this?” Beth asked. “I’m not. But I gotta find out for sure,” Mateo said. They skipped school and headed straight for the junkyard.
Felicia joined them, since she knew the witness who saw the girls' bus-jacking.
They rode on Beth’s shoulders, secured to the straps of her backpack. They held
a conversation at normal volume, despite Beth’s heavy breathing as she hiked
through the desert. “So, if it’s true,” Felicia said, “and you do know the girls
responsible for this, what are you going to do? Call the DPS? The police?” “I’ll beat the shit out of Tricia myself,” Beth said. “After
she almost killed Mateo, she’s been living awfully comfortably, without
consequences. I’ll fix that.” “She almost killed you?” Felicia asked Mateo. Mateo shrugged. “Ex-girlfriends, am I right?” Felicia looked at him incredulously. “Wait up, Beth,” Hazel said. Her Chucks kicked up sand and
smaller rocks as she jogged up to the tall girl. “I don’t have giraffe legs
like you.” “Keep up, wimp.” Emma giggled. “Maybe I should ride with her.” Emma referred
to Beth. “It might help your wimpy-ass to not remove a couple of ounces from
your person.” “I swear to God, Emma …” Hazel also carried a backpack. Inside
was a downsizer transportation container. They were optimistic that, through
Felicia, they’d convince some downsizers to seek an asylum with either Beth or
Hazel. - “Okay. I love you, too, dad.” Mateo hung up his phone and
slipped it back in his pocket. “What’s wrong, boo?” Beth asked. They were approaching the
junkyard. “My dad is divorcing my mom.” Everyone made a comment, trying to cheer up Mateo. They
offered him support and asked what they could do to help him. “It’s okay, really,” Mateo said. “The writing was on the
wall. Mom is pushy and usually gets what she wants. With her being big and dad
being tiny, I can see … I just knew it was coming is all. I thought they’d last
longer, though. Barely two months after downsizing, and they’re done.” “It’s a tough balance,” Hazel said. “It’d be so easy for me
to shut down Em anytime she slightly annoys me. But I remember she’s an
equal in the relationship and not to use my size against her.” “My mom wasn’t like that at all.” Mateo looked forward and
saw the junkyard getting closer. “She didn’t see us as equals.” - “Sam, there you are,” Felicia said. Mateo and Emma were
right behind the redhead. “Did you really bring the humans back?” Samuel was a
middle-aged man with a scruffy beard. His clothes were caked with dust and
motor oil from scavenging. “We’ve never had humans here. Now there are two in a
week!” “They’re investigating the bus-jacking,” she said. “And
they’re here to help anyone that wants it. Sam, look at me.” She spun around
for him to see. “I’m getting good sleep, eating regular meals, and I don’t have
to worry about anything. These human girls are the real deal. Look, they’re in
relationships with downsizers! These are their partners.” She introduced Mateo
and Emma and made small talk to learn more about one another. Sam was still weary, but he was also so damn hungry. His
knees and back hurt, and the prospect of not having to worry about everyday
struggle in the junkyard sounded appealing. Mateo stepped forward with his
phone and asked him to remember about the day the humans attacked the bus. “Yeah, I saw ‘em.” Mateo stepped forward with his phone and pulled up a photo of
Tricia. He flipped it for Samuel to see and asked, “Was she one of them?” Samuel squinted his eyes. “Oh yeah, that’s one of them. I’ll
never forget that scowl on her.” “Fuck,” Mateo muttered as he flipped the phone to look at
it. “Tricia … Why …?” “She’s a sizeist,” Emma said. “There’s no logic to their
hate. We’ll tell the DPS what happened and they’ll fry her butt.” Samuel laughed. “What’s so funny?” Emma asked, not slightly amused. “DPS is in on it.” “Huh?” “You think those girls just stumbled on the bus by accident?”
He turned to face Felicia. “They were after you.” “Yeah, I know,” Felicia said. Mateo and Emma turned to Felicia. “At least, I think that’s what happened. But it’ll be nearly
impossible to prove, unless this Tricia person fesses up to it.” “Is this related to ‘pissing off the right people?’” Mateo
asked. Felicia lifted her hands up and shook her head. “No clue. I
don’t know what to believe anymore. All I know is that this world fucking
sucks. If it weren’t for people like Beth and Hazel, I’d have lost hope in
humanity.” - Felicia, Samuel, Emma, and Mateo came out of the old Buick
and into the open, where the two giantesses stood. Samuel walked closely behind
Felicia, peering past her red hair at the two attractive ladies that appeared a
mismatch. One looking like a tall tennis player, and the other just coming from
a skatepark. “So …?” Beth huffed. She squatted and got close to the
foursome. “Was it Tricia?” “That’s what Samuel says,” Mateo said. “He recognized her
from the picture I showed him.” Beth turned to him and stared with steely eyes. “Are you
positive? Are you sure it was Tricia that stopped the bus?” Samuel nodded. Not used to talking to humans, he spoke
loudly while hiding behind Felicia. “Y-yes. I’m 95% sure it was her. I saw her
eat someone, then they kidnapped everyone. The other lady stole the bus, too.” Beth’s nose flared like a charging bull as she stood up. Her
knuckles turned white as she clenched them. “She’s going to fucking pay.” Beth
turned to leave the junkyard. “Beth, where are you going?” Hazel asked. “Where do you think? Take care of Mateo and the others. Meet
me back at my apartment when you’re done.” “Whatever you have planned, it’s not a good idea!” Beth stormed out, leaving a dust storm in her wake. Shit.
Mateo called Beth, but she didn’t answer. He then fired off a series of texts,
hoping she’d stop and not confront Tricia like this, but she didn’t even read
his texts. Tricia === Another boring day at school, complete. Tricia walked by
herself home and thought about her dad’s advice on Kamila. She and Kamila had
made significant progress in their relationship these past two weeks since
taking her meds. Why let her go now? Why ever let her go? Kamila was
hers and that little woman would soon love her back once she learns how
glorious life can be with her. Tricia wasn’t suffering from the pendulumlike mood swings of
the past, but it didn’t mean she was a different person. She chose not to torture
her dad, but that didn’t mean he would go unpunished for his terrible advice. His
punishment would be harmless and light. She wondered what it would be like for
him to spend the night in her gym shoes or stop giving him caffeine, so he’d
get a headache. She giggled at herself. Even her dad would laugh at the punishments
she had in mind. ‘This hurts me, more than it hurts you!’ she’d say to him. She
has been a lot happier lately, and everyone benefited from it. Seeking help and
having her mentality improved was another reason she loved her Polish chick so
much. If it wasn’t for her, Tricia’s depression would remain unchecked. Yeah,
there was no way she’d ever let Kamila go. Tricia walked up the steps to her house, ready to kiss
Kamila and dole out some daughterly loving punishment, when Melissa called her
to the dining room. “What sup, mom—” Tricia froze and felt her stomach drop. Steve’s living space
was on the dining room table. The plumping and wiring were severed and sticking
out like tree branches. The bed, bookcase, cellphone TV, and all the other
furniture were ransacked. It looked nothing like it did under her bed. Even the
foundation was cracked and torn into three pieces, as if someone ripped it out. Her vision became blurry with a black vignette closing in, threatening
to blind her. Her eyes darted around the dining table and didn’t see any signs
of Kamila or Steve. She then looked at her mother, who sat with her arms
crossed and wore an expression that was beyond furious. Tricia’s heart palpated
into an irregular beat, forgetting to breathe. “Care to explain yourself, ma’am?” Melissa asked. Where the fuck are they? The hole in the crown molding!
That was their discussed Plan B, in case Melissa or her stepdad ever snooped
around her room. Steve even jumped into the hole as a precaution when it was
only Tricia entering the room. He was good about that stuff and never took
risks. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about. Melissa would
question her, and all she had to do was play it cool. Deny there were
downsizers in her bedroom and tell her the miniature living room was a personal
project. “I’m waiting,” Melissa said. Tricia’s throat felt swollen and made it difficult to talk. “What
do you want to know?” “How long have you been keeping your father a secret from
me?” It was a donkey kick to the groin. Tricia’s pain was far
worse than when she learned her dad downsized himself. Her anguish threatened
her to faint, but she held her ground. She was like a captured WWII spy,
displaying no reaction or showing any emotions. Tricia’s poker hand was
exposed, but she still held onto a few cards that could benefit her. “What secret?” Melissa slammed an open palm against the table. “Don’t play
with me, Tricia!” She pointed a finger at her. “You brought that filthy city
rat into my home and took care of him like he was one of your dolls?” She
back-handed the living quarters, bouncing it forward a few inches, with some of
the smaller furniture getting flung off. “Have you forgotten your morals?” She
was practically screaming. “Everything we taught you? Did you forget what that
lousy husband of mine did to our family?” Tricia was cracking. A fine film of tears forming in her
eyes. She tensed her body to hide the trembles as she mustered the most
confident tone she could project, but it came out as a whisper. “Where is my
daddy?” Melissa (One hour earlier) === Kamila helped Steve put on new pants, stitching up the pant
leg of his missing leg. She then brewed him lemon tea and massaged his legs as
she talked about her former life. “Maybe we can visit Poland one day,” he told her. “I have no
idea how we would, since we don’t have passports, nor can we get one, but it
would be nice to visit.” He burned his tongue on the tea. “It’s beautiful in the summer.” Kamila worked her fingers into
his thigh. “And the food! I miss the food so much. Smoked kielbasa and cheese,
pierogies, and soups.” “After you told me you put ketchup on pizza, I somehow doubt
that,” he said with a wide grin. She slapped his leg playfully. “Have you tried it? It’s so
yummy.” After the massage, Kamila laid beside him and held his hand.
They enjoyed the peaceful stillness of the air and cherished the alone time
together. “Miss Tricia’s improved so much,” Kamila said. “Told ya. She’s a sweet kid.” Kamila didn’t want to ruin the moment by arguing with him,
so she let the topic slide. She wasn’t sure who fell asleep first. But his
warmth, deep voice, and calming presence lulled her into a nap. Steve joined
Kamila, which explains how they didn’t hear Melissa’s footstep coming up the
stairs. Both her bare feet were in the room by the time both Kamila
and Steve jolted awake. Looking out from under the bed, they could see the
black-painted toenails were not Tricia’s. “What did she do with my purse?” Melissa dropped her bare
knees to the floor and crawled straight for the bed. “Get out of here!” Steve said in a loud whisper. He
shoved Kamila off the bed. “Get to the hideout!” Kamila went to grab for Steve, but as she did so, Melissa’s
gigantic fingers came down on the edge of the living quarters. Her fingers
clawed at the floor and were pulling the entire structure out when Steve gave
Kamila one last shove. Kamila rolled as Melissa pulled the rest of the
structure out, the momentum of the roll causing her to roll right off the
structure. Steve wasn’t so fortunate. The plastic tubing that was used for plumping ripped apart.
The electrical wires snapped. Downsized books fell out of their shelves and
Steve got thrown out of the bed. An electrical pang of pain shot up from his
legs and went up his spine. He grunted and held back from screaming. “The hell is this?” Melissa asked. Kamila got to her feet and was relieved the giant mother
hadn’t seen her. She looked for Steve, but couldn’t find him anywhere. She hid
behind one of Tricia’s socks as she peered out. “Steve? Is that you?” Melissa asked. She was shocked, as if
she’d seen a ghost. Kamila wondered whether she should run for the hideout or
come to Steve’s rescue. Melissa didn’t seem angry, so she wondered if accounts
of her were blown out of proportion. Melissa grabbed her husband by the fist and held him up to
her eyes. This was Steve’s first time seeing his giant wife this close since he
downsized so many years ago. She was just how he remembered her. He could see
Tricia in her eyes and expression. Melissa was wearing shorts and a shirt that
weren’t age appropriate, but she could still pull off. “Hey, Melissa,” Steve said in a wavering voice. “Surprise?” “Indeed.” Her expression was somewhere between anger and
betrayal. Steve felt completely vulnerable being held 6 stories in the air, two
inches, missing a leg, and in the hand of his pissed off ex-wife. Her grip was
nothing like Tricia’s, even at her angriest. There was something ghastly about
the way they felt. “I thought you were dead.” “I guess not, funny story—” “Well, let me fix that.” “Melissa?” he asked as she began to squeeze. “Wait, Melissa,
wait, wait! Argh.” [Warning! Graphic Content.] Melissa moved a thumb over his head like she was about to
flick on a lighter and pressed down. Steve continued to beg, but his words came
out as a gurgle as a million pounds of pressure came down on his skull. The
entire time, Melissa sneered and looked at him through furiously flaming eyes. She
brought him closer and witnessed his death up close. There was one last yelp
from him as his pleading eyes disappeared; his face folded in front of itself,
followed by her giant thumb. Steve’s bones splintered and ground to coarse sand
as Melissa applied the full force of her strength on the two-inch creature. She
didn’t stop until she felt her nails against her palm. The pulpy gore that was
Steve oozed out of her fist like a smashed banana. But it wasn’t enough. She
slammed her palm against the floor of the bedroom. Her hand came down
repeatedly, spraying his blood and viscera outwards like a burst water balloon. [/Warning! Graphic Content.] Steve was dead and unrecognizable by the time she was done. Kamila
vomited on Tricia’s sock, trying hard not to believe what she just saw. A part
of her wanted to break down and cry, but her baser instincts told her to run. Melissa
shoved Steve’s living quarters out of the way and looked back under the bed.
She crawled forwards and moved random junk out of the way to see what else
Tricia was hiding. Surprisingly, her purse was not there. Kamila was in the hideout, hidden by a black shadow. Through
the crack in the crown molding, she could see Melissa digging around and
crawling further under the bed. At one moment, her eyes locked on the crack where
she hid. Kamila whimpered and cried, thinking she was spotted for sure. Melissa
was looking right at her. Kamila remained still as a pool of tears formed at
her feet. This had to be a bad dream. This couldn’t be real. Steve couldn’t be
gone. She breathed hard and was so close to screaming in fear. Kamila looked
back at Melissa, but reassured herself that the giantess couldn’t see her in
the darkness. Melissa huffed when she found nothing of interest. She
shimmied out from under the bed and gathered the miniature living space. Kamila
felt her booming footsteps as she walked out of the bedroom, but was too
terrified to move. Tricia === “The government thought your dad was dead,” Melissa said
while rubbing her index finger on her thumb, looking at it closely. “I made
sure their records were correct.” “What did you do?” Tricia asked. Her voice was evolving
towards anger. “I think you already know. Tricia, what in God’s name were
you thinking? What the hell is this?” She slapped her hand on Steve’s bed. “You
think this is a game?” She flicked a dresser with her middle finger, spilling
its contents across the table. Melissa and Tricia saw it at the same time.
Skirts, bras, panties … Melissa looked up at Tricia. “Are there more?” Tricia didn’t answer. “You little brat.” Melissa shook her head. “You running a
zoo in your farm?” Melissa got to her feet and walked around the table. “If I
find anymore of those shits, I’m going—” Tricia shoved her mother, knocking her to her off her feet.
Melissa caught one of the dining chairs, breaking her fall. Tricia raced up the
stairs to her room as Melissa yelled at her. Tricia entered and slammed the
door behind her. Her fingers dashed to lock it as she heard Melissa race up the
stairs. “Kamila?” She looked around and saw a pulpy red stain in the
center of the room. Tricia felt the entire room skew and shift under her feet. Her
mind refused to believe that her mother reduced her dad into a red blob on the
ground. She couldn’t dwell on it for too long, because her mother pounded on
the door. She shouted for Tricia to open the door. Tricia grabbed the side of her bed and shoved it away from
the wall until she could see the crack. She called out for Kamila again and saw
her peek her head. “Thank fucking God.” “Tricia, open this door this instant!” Melissa slammed her
shoulder against “We need to fucking leave.” Tricia lowered her hand next to
the crack. Kamila needed little convincing and climbed into Tricia’s hand.
Melissa’s shoulder slams against the door sounded like atomic bombs going off.
With Kamila in her palm, Tricia opened the window to her bedroom and looked
outside. “This is going to suck.” Tricia stuck Kamila in the pockets of her
shorts, kicked off her sandals, and crawled out the window. She stepped on the lip of the window below, and tip-toed to
the right while her fingers held onto her windowsill. Not too far off was the
overhang to their front porch. As Melissa broke through her daughter’s door,
Tricia took a leap of faith and jumped onto the overhang. She heard her mother
screaming at her from the window as she slid down a column and made it to
ground level. Tricia gently pulled Kamila out of her pocket and asked, “Are you
okay?” Kamila’s face contorted into agony in less than a second.
“She killed him! Your mother murdered him! What did he do for that?” Her accent
coming out thick as she sobbed into Tricia’s palm. “I don’t fucking know.” That’s when Tricia lost it. The suffering
felt like shards of glass running through her nervous system. Memories of her
father flashing before her eyes in rapid succession. He suffered so much under
her care for the past several years, and on top of that, they had a fight that
morning. She remembered the last words she said to him. How could she have been
so cruel to him? “Who’s that Tricia?” Melissa yelled. “Is that another
fucking downsizer? Don’t move!” “What are we going to do?” Kamila asked. “I … I don’t know. I can’t let my mom see you.” Tricia
jogged across the front lawn and onto the sidewalk. “Tricia, you fucking sizeist, murdering bitch.” Tricia turned to see Beth stomping towards her with a vindictive
gait. “Bring that thing over here, Tricia,” Melissa said. Tricia looked back and saw her mother practically bursting
out the front door. Tricia looked at the empty street and thought maybe she
could make a run for it. Looking down at Kamila, she saw the little woman was
crying and begging Tricia for help. Tricia had to make the toughest decision of
her life. She walked towards Beth. “I know it was you!” Beth said. “And I’m going to make sure
you fucking pay for your sick crimes—” “Open your hands,” Tricia said. “Huh?” Before Beth could say another word, Tricia lifted her
own hand and showed her a crying downsizer. “Wait, what’s going on?” Beth
shifted her emotions as she noticed a few things happening simultaneously.
Tricia looked like shit. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and whoever this
downsizer was, she was also crying. Beth looked up to see a woman twice her age,
yelling and cursing at Tricia as she walked up to them. Beth held out her hand. Both Tricia’s hands trembled as she passed Kamila into the
larger girl’s hand. She lowered her face and talked to Kamila. “I’m sorry. I’m
sorry, Kamila,” she lost her voice. As she inhaled, it felt like she was breathing
fiberglass, which scratched the shit out of her throat. “I’ll never be able to
make it up to you or fix this mess. I just … I just wanted you to love me as
much as I love you. But you don’t have to. Hate me all you want, because I
deserve all of it.” She sniffled. “This is Beth. She’ll protect you and give
you a better life than I could ever have. Because she loves downsizers and will
fight for them no matter what.” Tricia shook her head. “Not like me. I’m a
coward, a sizeist, rapist and a murderer. You deserve the best, Kamila. And
that’s not me.” Tricia backed away as her mother grabbed her by the shoulder
and spun her around. “Get back in the house,” Melissa said through gritted
teeth. Tricia nodded and walked back home with her head hung low. “You!”
Melissa said to Beth. “That is mine. Hand her over.” Beth felt Kamila quake and hide behind her fingers. Beth
looked way down at the middle-aged woman and lifted a brow. “Fat chance,
bitch.” “What did you say?” “Are you hard of hearing, or just stupid?” “Do not talk to me like that!” “Or else …” Beth stepped forward, causing Kamila to squeak,
not wanting to get any closer to Melissa than she already was. “The fuck are
you going to do? Use your old-woman’s Pilates on me?” “Hand over the downsizer!” Melissa enunciated every word. “Make me!” Melissa’s hand darted out, aiming straight for Kamila. Beth
caught her by the wrist, twisted it, and squeezed. Melissa shrieked as a bolt
of pain shot down her arm. Beth effortlessly twisted the arm further until
Melissa fell to her knees. Beth’s arm muscles bulged as she put the middle-aged
woman in her place. “Something you should know about me,” Beth said, smirking at
Melissa. “Downsizers are under my protection. No one fucks with them when I’m
around.” She looked at Kamila and gave her a wink. Beth released her grip when
she thought Melissa had enough. Melissa groaned and said some curse words to the tall athlete
before getting back to her feet. “Downsize-loving freak! You better watch your
back.” Beth took one giant step forward and stomped. It had the
right effect, as Melissa was so intimidated, she lost her footing and fell on
her ass. “I think you better watch your back!” Melissa said nothing further. She got up and went back to
her home with her tail between her legs. Beth looked up and saw Tricia standing
by the door. She mouthed a thank you before Melissa shoved her daughter
back in the house, slamming the front the door shut. Beth sighed and looked down at the downsizer in her palm. She
raised her up to her eyes and smiled lovingly. “Hey little one. You’re all safe
with me now, I promise.” Kamila was paralyzed with fear. She thought Tricia was
massive, but this new girl was on another level. She forced a nod at the
giantess. “I got a lot of questions. You don’t have to answer them
now. But you gotta tell me … the fuck was that all that about?”
Rated: 🔴 - Sexual Themes and Violence
Word Count: 16496 |
Views: 11 |
Reviews: 0
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Added: 03/16/2025
Updated: 04/05/2025
Story Notes:
Special note: Although the ages of the characters are not mentioned in this story, I want to be clear that all characters are 18+. This story has several arcs, and the arcs dealing with HS students refer to students in their senior year, months away from graduation.
Chapter End Notes:
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