After waking up in the middle of the night, Mary was headed to get a glass of water. As she neared the kitchen, she heard a rustling sound come from there. A rush of adrenaline shot through her as her first thought was that a burglar had gotten inside; then she remembered the alarm system should have sounded if that was the case.

She listened to the noise, eventually deciding it didn't sound like a person, then peeked around the corner. In the faint light coming through the window blinds she saw bag of chips on the table, one she had left there that evening. She also saw it was moving.

Mary flipped the light switch. Blinking as her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she was about to examine the bag when she noticed a tiny human face poking out from the opening—“A tiny!” she thought. Everything went still as they stared at each other, neither moving a muscle. Then, as though a spell had been broken, both of them bolted at once.

The tiny, running out from the bag, dashed across the table, jumping down onto a chair and from the chair to the ground, stumbling as it landed but not stopping, its tiny legs carrying it at surprising speeds towards the stove. Mary, dashed into the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the hard tiled floor, before pouncing on the tiny just as it was about to run under the stove, trapping it under her cupped hands. Tiny little fists banged on her fingers, their owner trying to force its way out.

Mary waited until her heart had settled down before curling her hand around the tiny, holding it in her fist. She sat up and carefully manipulated the tiny so she was holding it under her thumb. It was only then she noticed that “it” was a she, with shoulder-length hair and a set of breasts, though modest ones. She looked to be in her late teens, Mary saw; young enough to be her daughter.

She felt the tiny girl's pulse under her thumb. It was goiing so fast Mary feared she would have a heart attack. If she did, it would only be because of the scare she'd given her. Poor thing was probably still terrified.

Mary gently lifted the tiny girl to her lips, giving her a kiss. Gradually her pulse slowed, along with her breathing. Once Mary was sure her heart rate wouldn't go any lower, she pulled her lips away. The tiny gave her an uncertain look.

Slowly, Mary lifted her thumb off of her, holding her in her open palm. She stood and set her hand on the table, allowing the girl to step off. Taking a seat at the table, she pulled a chip out of the bag and offered it to the girl. A battle between hunger and mistrust played out on her face. Hunger must have won out, for she inched closer until she had grabbed the offering, her little hands holding it awkwardly as she gnawed on it.

Fixated on her food, she seemed to have forgotten all about Mary until she finished it off, scarfing it down with a speed that spoke of much experience with hunger.

Once she had finished, the tiny looked at her expectantly. Mary pulled out another chip and offered it to her, but she didn't make a move for it, even after Mary set it down on the table. “Do you want water?” she asked, but the girl only cocked her head, saying nothing. Mary stood up, grabbed a small plate and served some water on it, then set it down on the table. The girl crawled onto it and drank some water, then scooped some up to wash herself, rubbing herself clean from head to toes. Afterwards, she got off the plate and Mary took it to the sink.

When she returned, Mary noticed the girl looking from her to the stove and back again. “Do you want to go home?” she asked. “Or, would you like to stay with me?” She set her open hand on the table, palm facing up. The tiny girl looked at it, at her, at the stove, before slowly stepping forward and placing a hand on her fingertip. She gave Mary one last glance before crawling onto it, curling up against her fingers as they curled around her. Mary could not keep a smile from her face as she stood, heading back to her bedroom.

-----

Mary awoke with a yawn the next morning, curling the fingers around the tiny girl. Her eyes shot open.

She was gone.

Mary ran her gaze over the bed, finding no sign of her. She lifted the covers and sat up, then felt something slip from between her breasts and land on her thigh. She looked and saw it was her.

“There you are,” Mary said as the girl sat up, looking startled. I'm sorry; I didn't know you were there.” She held out her hand and let the tiny climb onto it, then raised her up and examined her. “Can you speak?” she asked after a silence. The girl gave her the same quizzical look from last night. “Can you speak?” she asked again, more slowly this time.

“Caa-noo-spee” was her only reply.

“Apparently not.” Mary sighed, then motioned to herself, saying, “I'm Mary. Ma-ry.”

“Ma-ry.”

“Good! Do you have a name?”

No response.

“Mary,” she said again, motioning to herself, and the girl repeated the name. Then she motioned to the girl. Still nothing. “I guess you don't have a name. Then, do you mind if I call you Cindy?” She motioned to herself, then to the girl, saying “Mary, Cindy.”“Ma-ry. Cin-dy,” the girl repeated. Cindy repeated.

“Good. Come, let's go get food.” Mary got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. There she let Cindy off on the table again. The tiny had begun making her way to the bag of chips when Mary picked it up and went to put it away, eliciting a cry from her.

“I'm sorry,” Mary said. “I'll get you something better to eat. Those are only good for a snack.” She grabbed a strawberry and left it on the table with Cindy while she made some eggs and sausage for herself. When she took a seat, setting her plate on the table, Cindy had already finished eating. A chunk of strawberry the size of her little head had been gnawed off, and now she sat on the table, her stomach distended and her face covered in juice. Mary frowned. “I'll have to teach you to chew your food properly from now on. Cindy paid her no mind, though, instead focusing on the plate. She got up and walked to it, leaning in over the plate and looking at Mary as she picked at her meal with spoon and fork, her eyes it as it rose up to her mouth, then came back down, emptied.

“Curious little thing,” Mary mused. After she finished eating, she ate the rest of the strawberry, then served Cindy some water to drink and clean herself. She sat, pensive, as she watched the girl. “Do you have any parents here?” she asked. “Any brothers or sisters? A partner, maybe?” Cindy looked at her, silent as usual. When she had finished washing, Mary let her step onto her hand, then took her to the stove, setting her hand on the ground.

Cindy's gaze alternated between her and the stove. Then, without warning, she scurried off under the stove. Mary stayed to see if she would come back out, but after two minutes had passed with no sign of her, she got up and left.

She would soon go out to do some shopping and distract herself from thinking about Cindy, but when she got back the first thing she did was check the kitchen table for her. She wasn't there. Mary eyed the stove again, but didn't make a move for it. If Cindy wanted to come back to her, she would, and if not, Mary wouldn't force her.

She would go the rest of the day without seeing the tiny girl; but the next morning, when she sat up in bed, she felt something small slip out of her chest and onto her thigh. Seeing the look on Cindy's face, Mary couldn't help but laugh. “Well, you should have let me know you wanted to sleep there!”“Ma-ry. Cin-dy,” the tiny replied.

Mary smiled and picked her up. “That's right; I'm Mary and you're Cindy. And I'm very glad you came back.” She pressed her lips against Cindy, enveloping her in a kiss. “I promise I'll take good care of you.”