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by Abc314 Author IconMail Icon
Rated: XGC · Interactive · Action/Adventure · #1903864
Who knows what could happen when an eight year old girl shrinks?
This choice: Wait for Rachel.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #18

Wait for Rachel.

    by: Abc314 Author IconMail Icon
You decide that knocking over the jar would be too risky. What would happen if the jar rolled off the shelf? You could be killed! No. At least Rachel seems intent on keeping you alive; if she wanted to kill you she could have just digested you. The thought of digestion simultaneously makes a shiver run down your spine as well as make you realize that you're quite hungry yourself. Last night you got your mother mad at you, and she sent you to bed without supper. It's past eight in the morning now, so you haven't eaten in about twenty hours. Sadly, you are the only thing in this prison, you don't even have your pajamas anymore (not that you could have eaten them anyways). Cold, frightened, hungry, and alone, you curl up and manage to fall asleep.
You awaken at 15:04, according to the watch. For some reason your sister has always preferred military time, and you mentally translate the number to 3:04 PM. The fact that the watch now reads military time means that you were correct before, it was 8:22 am. Something is different now, though. Sharing the prison with you are two objects: a lump of white, spongy matter about a half-inch across that reaches up to your thighs, and a thimble filled with water. Bread and water, the classic prisoner's diet. Still, it's now been 27 hours since you last ate, and you're not particularly picky. You tear into the bread ravenously. It isn't stale at all, so Rachel must have just put it in under an hour ago, which was in keeping with the fact that she got out of school at 2:15. Your mouth now dry from the bread, you turn to the thimble. After a few different techniques, you discover that the most reliable way to get the water into your mouth is to lean over the thimble, pucker your lips, and drink the water using your lips like a straw. The water tastes strongly metallic, and slightly salty, leading you to believe that Rachel didn't bother to clean the thimble before filling it with water. Full, you start watching the clock once more. The glowing parts of it have faded, but there's enough light for you to read the numbers at this hour. In boredom, you start mathematically manipulating the numbers, since you have nothing better to do. 15:24 is 1524 is three times two times two times 127, which you're pretty sure is prime. 15:25 is 1525 is five times five times 61. You carry on like this all the way until 18:12 (which is 3 times 2 times 2 times 151), when you get hungry and eat again. The bread is now crusty and stale, and you soak it in the water to help mitigate this, and quickly realize that this also lets you drink the water with far less contamination from the metal thimble. You fall asleep again, your belly full and your thirst quenched.
You are awoken by the sound of a door opening. You look over at the watch, which you can only see because it is glowing again. 21:52. Almost ten in the evening. Rachel will be coming to get you, and you assume that the door opening that you heard was Rachel entering the room. The lights in the room turn on, and you are temporarily dazzled by the bright light. The doors to the closet slide open, and you see Rachel standing there. She immediately reaches up for the jar and brings it down to a level that she can more easily see into it from. She wasn't very gentle in moving the jar, so the water spills from the thimble, forming a moat around the edge of the jar in the lower area around the walls. The remains of the bread lump float in the moat, and you are knocked down by the thimble rolling around. Rachel unscrews the lid and grabs you. You try to avoid her grip, but she flicks you and snatches you while you're regaining your senses.
"I have had one hell of a day," Rachel says, replacing the now uninhabited jar on the shelf and taking you over to her bed. She sits on the bed and sets you on the bed next to her.
"Nobody was really concerned at first by your disappearance, since you tend to run off and do your own thing from time to time anyways, but when you didn't come home for dinner, Mom got worried. She checked and the only clothes that were missing were the pajamas you were wearing, and your cell phone was still on your bedside table. Then she called the police, who came and asked an unending series of questions. Fortunately, they didn't search the house. They trusted that we could do that on our own," Rachel explains. As she does so, you start to try to sneak away from her, but she puts her hand down when you start getting too far away, forming an impassible wall and forcing you to change direction. As she continues to talk, you keep trying to slip away, but quickly realize that she's toying with you and sit down to listen to what she has to say.
"Finished trying to escape?" Rachel asks. You nod dejectedly.
"So anyways, after about a million questions--'when did you last see Sarah?' 'do you have any pictures of her that we could use?' 'Does Sarah often run off like this?'--the cops left and said that they'd put your picture on milk cartons or something. So basically, my day has been hell and I could really use..."

You have the following choices:

*Noteb*
1. "...Some company to talk to."

2. "...A bit of stress relief."

*Noteb* indicates the next chapter needs to be written.
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