This choice: She goes to John's room and tries to wake him up. • Go Back...
Chapter #4
John's room
by: Unknown
My feet sunk deep into the field of carpet, giving me the sensation of walking through sand. I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was experiencing. I mean, honestly, how is this even possible?! I guess I couldn’t focus on that now; I needed to get John’s help.
Thank God that the door was open. Even better yet, the hallway floor was polished wood instead of carpet. The carpet felt nice to lie on, but was hard walking through. As I stepped onto the wood floor I took off into a run. The floor that usually creaked under my weight no longer made a sound, and my now tiny footfalls were muffled and faint. John’s room was right down the hall, about ten feet away, but to me, it seemed like miles. I stopped running a fourth of the way through, frustrated with myself for not keeping in shape like I used to be. The rest of the way I jogged or walked. When I reached John’s room, I was relieved to see that his door was open, too, but only about half an inch. With my body turned, I tried to squeeze through the crack, but I wasn’t skinny enough. Great, just my luck. I grabbed the side of the door and pulled with all my strength, but I just wasn’t strong enough. Then I heard a rumbling noise that I recognized as the furnace of the house kicking in. The warm air started blowing from the vent across the hall and I could hear the vent in John’s room start emitting air, just enough to force the door a little more open. Surprised at my change in circumstances, I squeezed through the now bigger crack and found myself staring up at the green walls of John’s bedroom. At the far end of his room to my left was a TV stand that held John’s X-box 360 and PS3. Above the game systems was his 52’ flat screen TV hanging on the wall in such a position that allowed him to play videos games or watch movies while lying on his bed. His dresser was to the right of me in the corner of his room next to his bed which stretched out in the center of the area with the headboard against the wall. A poster of John’s favorite football team hung over his headboard along with a shelf containing some of his valuables. In the far right corner of his room, John had a desk he used for homework and a place to set his laptop.
All of this I took in with a sharp breath, trying to contrast the difference that everything now was compared to me. Everything in this room I had seen a hundred times, touched a hundred times, and now they were a hundred times bigger. It made me feel insignificant. I could hear John’s breathing as he slept, but I couldn’t see him. He was probably wrapped deep within his covers like he usually was. And then the realization hit me: how was I supposed to wake him up? John had been known to sleep through his alarm clock going off at full volume without waking up for twenty minutes. He definitely wouldn’t hear me if I tried to call his name. But what if I managed to crawl onto the bed? Maybe I could wake him then. But what could I even do then? Tap him on the forehead? John didn’t even wake up when someone was shaking him. Maybe it would just be better if I waited until morning to try and contact him.
~Torch~
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