At first, you were rather proud. Your speed, reflexes, and cunning all got you safely out of the door, without being turned into paste by the man of the house. A rather impressive feat, if you do say so yourself.
But, as you sat on the little concrete stoop, shivering in the cold and already soaked from the morning dew, you couldn't help but wonder some things. Why did you come out of the nice warm house? What was your plan to get back to full size? How were you going to get help from out here? You could only conclude that you'd made a terrible mistake.
Your personal gloom-bubble was burst as the door swung open. The teenage girl from before, standing tall as a reasonably sized mountain, stomped out, shouting over her shoulder, "Don't call me that, Jerkwad." Her step swung up, giving a frightening view of her flat's filthy sole. You flinch instinctively, but her foot lands some distance away, and she walks out of sight.
She's followed by her brother, wearing a rather beat up pair of skater shoes, and the door is closed, leaving you alone once more. But, on the bright side, you've come up with a plan. There were two more people you saw, a middle aged women and a young girl. They'd be heading this way, and likely soon. They were your tickets to salvation.
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.12 seconds at 1:40pm on Nov 25, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author