Everything was cold.

Deep, bone biting cold that made my hands tremble and my teeth chatter uncontrollably. Torn fabric littered the bed as though a bomb had gone off in a lingerie store. Staring at the sundered bits of fabric I felt a sort of twisted kinship for the former brassiere. Used, overwhelmed, and then discarded when it no longer served a purpose. Purpose… it had been a while since I’d considered mine. A college degree seemed impossible now, I couldn’t possibly attend class without assistance and even if I did get a one where would I work? Who would take a foot tall employee? Disney Land, I thought with a bitter laugh that was cut short by another bout of chattering teeth.

Was shrinking into oblivion all there was left?

It was a numbing thought; and I was surprised at how empty I felt. Maybe Heather had sucked despair out of me along with everything else. Maybe I had been reduced to an empty shell unable to lament my lack of purpose. Frigid hands slapped against my cheeks.

Snap out of it Mike, I thought, this is not the time for an existential crisis. Heather’s game was rigged- I didn’t want to die. Right now I needed a plan, and fast. Taking a deep breath I coaxed sensation back into my fingers by rubbing my hands together furiously. Step one, don’t freeze to death.

Christ, it felt like I’d run naked through a blizzard. Had my body stopped generating heat? The smaller I got the more adverse effects seemed to be building up. Lurching to my feet I took a few unsteady steps across the surface of the bed. Heather’s dried sweat cloyed on my skin; a crusty shell that gave way grudgingly as I shuffled unsteadily towards the edge of the mattress. I would have given anything for a hot shower. Then again at my size a shower might be a deathtrap.

Everything in the room was enormous; surreal in scale. Heather’s dresser was an office building that could have comfortably fit dozens of people my size. The ruined bed was a canyon of cloth, the way the center had collapsed made the upraised edges appear to be flower-patterned mountains. The garments Heather had strewn on the floor were barely recognizable as clothing; vast quantities of cloth that seemed more appropriate as hot air balloons or circus tents. Even the room itself was vast; an epic chamber from some fantasy movie.  

“Don’t just stand there, hurry the fuck up!” Heather’s voice boomed from the adjoining room. I looked up in a panic only to realize a second later that she wasn’t talking to me. “Close the door you ditz,” Heather said testily. “You’re the last one so we can begin-”

“Omigod, Heather you’re huge!” A girl’s voice exclaimed.

“Duh?” Heather said, irritated at the interruption.

“No I mean… I guess you’ve always been big? Maybe?” She sounded confused.

“Shutup Becky,” Heather snapped. “I’ve called the four of you here to discuss some changes in the sorority. The first new rule is if anyone wants to date outside the sorority their SO has to be approved. By me.”

“Umm, may we ask why?” A new, quavering female voice asked.

“Because, Miranda, I said so. Also because I don’t want any negative influences on our members and that includes letting undesirables into the building. If anyone plans to fuck someone beneath this roof they bring them to me first, is that understood?” A discordant quartet of voices answered affirmative in unison. “Good, second new rule isn’t really a rule; I need volunteers to take notes and bring them to me. I’m changing my major to supervisory studies.”

My temples ached for a moment and I abruptly understood what Heather meant. Supervisory studies was when someone of high social status made someone of lower social status do their work for them. It was basically lawful cheating for those with power. I was certain that I hadn’t heard those two words spoken together before tonight; but such was the nature of my ever-changing reality. Old things faded away and new things replaced them.

“Third, I’m increasing the admittance fee,” Heather continued.

“I thought we were full?” A male voice asked.

“Yes Rob, we’re full… For now,” Heather replied. I slid down the edge of the bed where it had collapsed nearly to the floor, grateful for the reduced height. I made my way over to the door while Heather condescended, “Some pledges may not get accepted and others may decide they are not cut out for this sorority. Get it?”

“Yeah, got it,” Rob said meekly.

“Good. The last thing is a new bed. Rob, have that new pledge pay for it. I’ll put it on my amazon wishlist so he’ll know which one to get… Actually scratch that, send him to me. Understood?”

“Yes Heather,” Rob replied subserviently.

“Good, you may go. The rest of you stay a moment.” A moment later the sound of a door shutting came was followed by Heather saying, “Ladies, have you noticed any of the changes we talked about before?”

“Yeah, I mean- I think so,” Becky replied. “My boyfriend said he went down two notches on his belt. He thinks he’s losing weight but it looks like more than weight to me,” she finished excitedly.

“Good,” Heather replied, voice brimming with satisfaction. “Anyone else?”

“Yeah my girlfriend is definitely getting smaller but umm like, I think I might be too?” An unfamiliar voice answered.

“Oh? Interesting,” Heather said. “I wasn’t sure what would happen with a gay couple, but that’s good to know.”

“Can you, umm stop it?”

“Hmm, I could.” Heather mused, “But lets see how this plays out, Dana. You’ll be helping me with a valuable experiment and I won’t forget your... contribution.”

“Umm… Okay,” Dana replied hesitantly.

“Miranda?” Heather pressed the final girl.

“M-maybe? I dunno, it’s k-kinda hard to tell,” Miranda stuttered. “We haven’t b-been… y-y’know sleeping together much lately.”

“We talked about this Miranda,” Heather said menacingly.

“I-I know,” Miranda said quickly, “It-It-It’s his grandmother, she’s sick. He’s b-been spending time with f-family.”

Heather huffed in annoyance, “Then it’s your job to keep his mind off of it. Make him forget everything except how good it feels to fuck you. Or find yourself a NEW FUCKING SORORITY!” Heather’s booming voice shook the ground beneath my feet like the bass of a stadium speaker system. If she had been yelling at me like that I probably would have pissed myself. As it was I was shaking like a leaf and Miranda didn’t seem to be faring much better.

“I-I-I-I…” She stuttered meekly, “S-s-s-sorry!” She finally managed to say before the sound of the door shutting came again.

“Looks like we’ll have more room for new pledges soon,” Heather quipped. The remaining two girls laughed nervously. I peaked through the crack, but couldn’t see Heather. “That’s all, you can go,” Heather said.

“Umm...”

“Yes, Dana?”

“About that other thing. Where you, umm, make us taller?”

“That reward has to be earned,” Heather said brusquely.

“But we got the pledges you wanted…” Dana protested.

Heather snorted derisively. “Everyone and their dog wanted into this sorority. If you want a piece of the pie you need to go above and beyond. Impress me.”

“Like, would helping with that experiment you mentioned count?”   

“Hmm,” Heather said pensively. “I suppose so.”

“But how long? I don’t want to get too small,” Dana blurted out.

“Let me worry about that,” Heather said. “Now get out, I’m busy.” Through the crack in the door I could see two pairs of feet shuffle by.

The exterior door clicked shut and Heather’s thunderous steps shook the floor beneath me like an earthquake. I stumbled back as the epicenter drew near. Hurricane wind buffeted me as the door was flung open. Numb with cold I sprawled awkwardly to the floor. Heather ducked into the room and stood over me, a voluptuous colossus radiating power. “Whats this?” Her voice boomed, rattling my body. ”Were you eavesdropping?”

“N-n-no,” I said through chattering teeth. I’d been stopped too long, the meager sensation I had managed to work back into my limbs by moving around had evaporated. “P-p-please H-H-H-Heather, I-I’m c-c-cold,” my teeth chattered so badly I nearly bit my tongue trying to force the words out.

“Awww, wittle baby is c-c-cold?” Heather mocked.

I tried to speak but a fit of coughing stole the breath from my lungs. Shivering from head to toe I curled into the foetal position as another burst of coughing ripped from my lungs. Heather’s look of cruel amusement slowly faded to a frown as I trembled, hacking on the floor. Long seconds passed while icy veins wrapped around my chest, each breath rattling painfully into my lungs.

“What’s wrong with you?” Heather’s tone had lost all trace of amusement.

My lungs ached. It was becoming harder and harder to breath let alone speak. All I could do was peer up at her achingly beautiful face before another violent bout of coughs forced my gaze away. Was that a trace of concern in her eyes? No, impossible. Heather didn’t care about me. How had I ever convinced myself otherwise?

I was freezing, everything was going numb but my body ached from the cold. A little bit of warmth would be nice. Clothes fresh from the laundry or a campfire, I’d even settle for the rickety old heater back at home that always smelled like burnt ozone. Sweat dripped into my eyes, maybe that meant I was hot. No, I was shivering that meant cold. Maybe it was Heather sweating and I was shivering? I tried to look at her but my muscles were numb. I needed to see her again, we had to talk. I had to apologize.

Pictures began to flip through my mind like a cheesy youtube slideshow. Her current, massive stature gave way to smaller versions as the images rewound through time. All the photos I’d taken as she grew and more from before. Graduation. Prom. Spring break. They kept coming on and on. A horrible punk cover echoed in my mind, somehow completing the cheap, homemade video aspect of the experience.  

Time passed, the world shifted.

Somehow I’d been transported into Heather’s hands. Her face was massive, close. Her breath brushed my skin, deliciously warm. “Mike, say something,” she was saying.

I let her have the chorus and sang, “I’ll get over you.”

“What? You’re mumbling, I can’t understand you.” Heather’s said, increasingly agitated.

Something was missing. Maybe it had been taken. Maybe I’d lost it. The images of Heather marched on, semi-transparent over the live, massive version. I sang along, “I know I will, I’ll pretend my ship’s not sinking.”

“You’re not making any sense! If you don’t stop fucking around I’m going to…”

“And I’ll tell myself I’m over you. Cuz-” Coughs crumpled my body into a ball. I couldn’t feel the cold anymore. It was nice, peaceful. Something wet splashed against my hands.

“I’m going to…”

Heather was young again. A girl, beautiful as she was fragile. A porcelain doll, easily broken. I croaked, “I am the king of wishful thinking!” Another wet splash struck my stomach. Small streams traced liquid lines of light down Heather’s cheeks and over her chin.

“Mike!” Heather’s voice broke like a faltering clarinette. “Mike!”