I’ve never felt so excited in my life. It’s a weird feeling for a midget; excitement. The last time I was truly excited was, of course, when my mum announced that Cam and I would be able to go so a real school. But now, I’ve just broken my excitement record. I stare down at the miniature white button up shirt and long, black trousers. The shirt is stitched with the logo: Johnson And Son’s Dollhouse. They should seriously consider changing it all to ‘Johnson, Son and Midget’s Dollhouse’. Personally, I think that my version of the store name is much classier. And, as a bonus, I get to be included in the grant title.

I got the job, if no one’s already guessed. A few minutes after announcing that I was in fact, four and three quarters of an inch tall to a quite frankly bewildered Kyle, Alex brought me out into the store to show me around. I’d already gotten a bit of a glimpse of the place from mum’s shoulder, but a grand tour hosted by the store owner himself? That, my friends, is a privilege.

Alex had kept my introduction to the store pretty brief, because we only had an hour before mum showed up again, but nevertheless, I got a firm indication of what my work would include. What’s that, you ask? Well, I get the grand opportunity to… clean, dust and polish the insides of the dollhouses. I have a feeling that when Alex spoke about his employee having ‘small hands’, so to speak, he meant it seriously. And under that category, he’s just hit the jackpot with me.

After another glimpse at my resume, the shop keeper had nodded to himself. That was about the time where he’d walked back into the store and returned with a doll’s white shirt and pants, which he held using his thumb and forefinger. I myself held them in my entire arms.

So you wonder why I feel so giddy right now? That’s simple. I’m sure that every teenager has tried at least once to apply for a job, and most likely had themselves turned down by the manager. Usually in my resume, I try to be discreet about my certain height challenges, but I can’t really deny the fact that I’m a real life midget. That’s why I’ve never been able to secure myself a part time job. That, and the fact that my options are extremely low. I’d apply for heaps of things like Boost Juices, McDonalds, The Night Owl and more… if I was normal.

That’s been the biggest problem for me. My size gap. It’s basically made it impossible for me to get a job, despite the hundreds of resumes I’d handed in over the years. My size was the reason I’d given up a few months back. That is, until mum stepped in and took the reins. Now, finally, I can act like a normal kid. As normal as I can get, at least.

I didn’t speak to mum as we drove home in her old beetle. Nor did I speak as she carefully scooped me up and placed me on her shoulder to get inside the house. I do speak, however, when Cameron walks through the front door after school.

“I GOT A JOB CAMERON!!!!” All levels of my maturity have vanished as I stand on the kitchen bench, while Cam enters the house. Immediately, he wheels around on his heels, eyes darting around until he spies me in the kitchen.

My brother wears a plain t shirt, jeans and a confused frown as he plonks himself down on a stool in front of me. Usually, his size would be a little unnerving, but I’m really too excited to care. “You got a… what?” Cameron asks in shock, resting his chin on a hand. I can feel his slow breathing tickle my skin like I’m standing in front of a fan. My fringe sways about.

“A job, bro.” I repeat with a smile wider than the capacity of my jaw. “At the mall.”

Cameron raises an eyebrow, looking just as dumbfounded as I was when I’d been hired. “You? Getting a job?” He marvels. “Was the shop keeper on crack or something?”

Instantly, my smile vanishes. “Why would you think that?” I ask slowly.

Cameron rolls his eyes and reaches out with his index finger to poke me, but I take a step away from him with my arms folded indignantly. “You’re too small to work, Marco!” He says.

“Not according to my new boss.”

“And who’s this new boss?” Cameron snorts, making me cringe in embarrassment.

“Alexander Johnson.” I say softly.

It takes my brother a moment to digest that. I can practically see the cogs turning in his brain. “Hang on a sec…” He says, eyes glinting. “That’s the guy from that doll’s shop! I bought your birthday present there last year!”

I groan. I remember that birthday present all too well. Cameron had bought me a midget swing set, complete with an equally midget slippery slide. I’d used them once or twice, but Cameron couldn’t seem to stop laughing as I swung back and forth on my tiny seat and slid on my ass down the plastic slide.

“Yeah, that’s the place.” I sigh inwardly, anticipating the reaction. I’m not exactly disappointed.

“Hah! Really? Oh god, I can’t wait for your new friend Tommy to hear about this! My own brother working in a girl’s doll shop?!? That’s priceless!” Cameron giggles.

“Ok, Firstly, it’s Thomas, not Tommy, secondly, this girl’s dolls shop is run by two guys and thirdly, you’re an ass, Cameron.” I shoot back, exasperated. Shoving my hands in the pockets of my hoody, I begin to walk across the kitchen bench, away from my brother. I’ve had enough scrutinising for one day.

“Hey, Marco!” Cameron follows me with his eyes. They’re so huge compared to mine that it’s hard not to notice. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end but I grunt under my breath, keeping my head down. “It was a joke, bro!” Cameron continues, but he doesn’t push it. Maybe he notices my obvious irritation or something.

As I descend down my midget ladder at the edge of the bench though, he clears his throat half-heartedly. “You want a lift upstairs?” Cam mumbles.

I shake my head with my arms folded from the kitchen floor. Usually, I’d meet my brother’s eyes, but my neck’s aching already, and I’m sick of always having to look up at people. Cameron’s thick black converse stand directly in front of me, accompanying a sky scraper high body. For me, trying to stare up at his enormous head is like staring up at the penthouse of a block of high-rise units. Sometimes I imagine myself in my brother’s titanic shoes, looking down at a miniature of Cameron. What would he look like, at four inches? Maybe he’d feel a little more sympathetic towards me if that was the case. But that’s never going to happen. I know better than anyone not to get my hopes up. It just makes the whole situation worse.

Still refusing to acknowledge my brother, I begin trudging across the tiled kitchen floor, ignoring the looming shadow of Cameron behind me. I know my walking speed is painfully slow to him, but it’s his fault for following me. I don’t yell up at him or anything, though. In the kitchen, I prefer to concentrate on not tripping over the grooves of silicon between the tiles, which, to someone of my stature, are like thirty centimetre wide ditches.

Once I’ve finally trekked to the bottom of the staircase though and am just flexing my arms to begin the painful procedure of yanking myself up, Cameron steps in with a yawn. “Sorry dude, but this is getting boring.” He mutters, bending down so he kneels directly behind me. I know what he’s about to do so I grumble loudly and let myself fall backwards, only to be caught and scooped up by a hand that could potentially serve as a queen sized bed to me.

Cameron is purposely slow as he ascends up the staircase, probably sensing my annoyance from before. I say nothing as I’m dropped onto the roof of my bookshelf. Cameron gives one final huff before shutting the door to his bedroom behind him. A minute later, his familiar heavy metal music fills my ears and I roll my eyes, out of habit. Taking a minute to sigh, I slip through the circular manhole in the top of the shelf, swinging straight onto the soft mattress of my bed.

Another long day to recount. Geeze; ever since I’ve started going to a regular high school, my life has turned into one big rollercoaster. My casual, laidback lifestyle with Cam is like a dream, now. Sinking into my doll’s bed and tugging the thick furry sock I use as a blanket over me, I reach out for my IPod again. Like De ja vu all over again… I think dryly as I tug the plasma screen sized device onto my bed so it rests up against the frame.

On the bad days, I’m not motivated enough to put the necessary amount of pressure into tapping on the screen, and the touch mode doesn’t sense my midget hands. If I’d have taken the stairs, I doubt I would have had the scrap of energy needed to perform the annoying task of doing CPR to a ‘pocket sized’ Apple product. Today, however, is somewhat special, despite the way that my brother just ruined it all. Yes, Cameron; I love you too.

Shaking the memories from my head, I sit facing the dark screen, taking a moment to look at my refection. My sandy coloured hair is getting a little long, as I’ve noted recently. It’s hard for me to find a hairdresser equipped with nail clippers for scissors, though. Usually my mother does that sort of stuff. My clothes, which I’d changed into as soon as I’d gotten home from the mall, are basically just a pair of grey trackies and a red t shirt. My feet are bare.

12 notifications greet me as I punch the unlock button on the IPod and type in my password. I roll my eyes upon noticing Cameron’s recent Instagram picture. It’s another one of me and this time, to my dismay, it’s of our twelfth birthday. I happened to be using the doll’s swing set at the time, speak of the devil…

Sighing loudly (for a midget), I open up my own profile, noticing my recent snap of Thomas and I has already received over fifty likes. A few new comments catch my eye and, feeling bored already, I bring them up.

Awww! It’s so cute how you can use a Wii Remote!

And round two:

I think I’m going to have a cutegasm! Holy crap!

I have a feeling that there isn’t anything in the English dictionary that describes the word: Cutegasm. Stupid girls and their stupid made up words… Anyway, my whole reason for accessing the IPod was to post one of my new pictures. It’s pretty boring, really; just of my new working uniform. I’m proud of the thing, though. And the fact that Alex could whip one up in miniature so quickly.

Wondering what to type underneath, I furrow my brow. Eventually though, the words come to me. Got a job today: First Midget Worker :) Cheesy? Yep. Girly? Probably. Stupid? You tell me. As soon as the picture loads, Thomas has liked and commented, as stalker-like as that seems:

So that’s where u went today :) Kev and I went looking for u after music! What happened?

Groaning instantly, I reply.

Too loud for my stupid ears. I kinda fainted in class so mum thought it’d be good to get me a job, to cheer me up…

Thomas posts a sad face. How original. Rolling my eyes for what feels like the thousandth time, I type:

I’ll be back @ school tmoz, though. C u then ;)

The reply this time is seconds later.

C u, Minimark.

“God help me.” I mutter aloud. Shoving my IPod away, I rest my head on my pillow, letting sleep take over. It’s been a seriously long day, even to a midget like me. I know, I know. It’s three in the afternoon. But I spose a guy’s gotta sleep sometimes. I am the world’s heaviest sleeper. Keeping those thoughts in mind, I drift off into unconsciousness.

Nighty Night world. I think. Be nice to me tomorrow, eh?