Things went silent after that. You needed time to think, get your bearings, figure out what you were going to do from here. It was your guess that Mark had left, gone back to making breakfast. So now was the time to find a place to hide. At six inches tall the only real difficulty would be traversing to whatever spot you had in mind instead of finding the actual hiding spot itself.
So you ran to the edge of your mattress and began to rappel down the blanket, confident that you would be better hidden on the ground than in an elevated position. It was slow but steady progress. One false move and you could plummet to the hardwood floor. Despite your small stature you were sure that would at the very least hurt quite a lot if it wasn't fatal.
As your descent continued however the journey seemed to get longer, reality warped and the threads of fabric in the comforter seemed to grow larger and rougher against your skin. The checker pattern grew more massive to your perspective. You realized you had shrunk again, now to an inch tall. It was a shock, and your heart sank. What if you shrank into nothing? But still, you had to keep going.
You were almost to the ground when you heard your door begin to creak open. The places you could dash to were limited, but with your even smaller size they would be that much more effective. Besides, Mark wasn't looking for an inch tall man down by his feet. He would probably take one glance at your bed, see you weren't there, and go look for you elsewhere in the house.
At least, that's what you hoped. You start your sprint just as you see Mark's massive size 14 bare foot and the end of his shin step into your room.
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