Chapter #7Taken to Her Room by: Unknown When you'd see her you'd say 'hi' or wave with a smile. Whenever she asked you what you were doing, or told you she wanted you to look at an interestingly shaped rock she'd uncovered, you didn't send her away in annoyance. Instead you'd humor her and tell the girl what you were up to, or you'd go ogle her little discovery and give her a pat on the head and a 'good job'. Once she'd fallen out of a tree over some cement and had carved her legs up so badly, there was blood from knee caps to her ankles. You'd picked her up off the pavement. She'd thrown her arms around your neck, sobbing softly, and you'd carried her back to her house. You hadn't left until she'd stopped crying and her parents had cleaned up her wounds with a warm cloth, and applied band aids. Another time you'd been walking home from school to discover her being heckled by three boy bullies from her school. You'd cussed them out, much to their surprise, and then you'd taken her hand and marched her home. Once she'd even been over to your house during a neighborhood Christmas party, and she'd caught you under the mistletoe. She'd stared at you expectantly and, though you didn't give her a peck on the cheek, you'd given her a great big hug that had sent her running and giggling after you released her.
So though you weren't exactly her friend, you always felt that she'd liked you. As of right now though, you can't help but be absolutely terrified. Your illness, which you were expecting to progress at a constant rate, had suddenly kicked into hyper drive reducing you to a size smaller than a Barbie. And you weren't in your home when it happened. Oh no, you'd been smart enough to leave your house without knowing the full nature of your affliction, and without informing your parents where you're going. For all they know you're upstairs in your room, or you'd ditched them to head over to a friend's house. Your brilliant lack of concern and foresight would cost you. No one would ever guess you were in the hands of a small, awkward, ginger girl from across the street. In other words, you were at her complete and utter mercy. Unsure of her plans for you, you cross your fingers (or you would if they weren't cupping your genitalia) and pray Beatrice has good intentions.
After going in through the side door Beatrice makes sure the coast is clear, then bolts up the stairs to her room. You arrive at a door with a multicolored sign taped to it. It issues a warning to trespassers reading, 'Welcome to Beatrice's room, enter without knocking and you're lunch!' Weird, but then again, Beatrice isn't your average girl. Entering her room she quickly locks the door behind her. Why her parents would ever allow her to have a lock for her door is beyond you. Looking around your new habitat, you take in the strange sights.
Carelessly strewn about papers and clothing little the floor. Here and there you see an odd object or two among the clutter. Some play jewelry, a fake light saber, a plastic brontosaurus, among other oddities, catch your eye. It seems she actually has a computer in her room, set on a desk with a trippy looking lava lamp. She has a bookshelf filled with stuff, you're sure most of which must be fantasy related. It too has random crap piled up on it's shelves. A slinky, a wallet, ....... fish food? She doesn't even have an aquarium! Looking around you do notice a few other items worthy of attention. There's a dart board attached to the back of her door, a replica of a human skeleton is propped up in one corner of her room, and she has a table with a model volcano on it, perhaps a science experiment for school.
Beatrice jumps up onto her bed. Kicking off her flip flops and quickly plopping down on her butt, she sets you in between her legs. Wiggling toes, she gives you a wide grin, exposing her braces, "So, what do you think of my room?"
"It's....... nice?" You respond slowly.
"Glad you think so, I like it too!"
You decide to try reasoning with her again, "Look Beatrice, if you haven't noticed, there's something seriously wrong with me. I need help, and I need it right now. Please take me home."
Beatrice shook her head, the smile never disappearing, "Nope, sorry, that's not going to happen. And don't worry too much about the whole shrinky thing!"
"Don't worry?.... Don't worry?! Beatrice, don't you get it? I'm dying!"
"No your not silly, the spells not meant to kill you." She replies confidently.
"Spell? Wha-?"
"The elf magic I found online. It's supposed to just shrink you down real tiny, not hurt you."
You slap your head, you forgot about Beatrice's silly little D&D fetish. Didn't she know magic wasn't real, that you were actually suffering from a real disease?
"Beatrice-" You start.
"I've been thinking about you a lot." She butts in with a confession.
"Huh? You have?"  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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