My name is Alex Hamilton, and this is my story. I am nineteen years old and have just finished school. My first wish was to find some sort of job, so I began looking around town for someplace to stay. In a quiet neighbourhood I came across an apartment which I really liked. It was on the top floor, where I could have a lot of privacy. I decided to check it out first before moving in, so I left all my stuff in my car and went inside. Everything seemed pretty normal, and I had no idea that my life was about to change forever.
Inside the apartment there was a combined kitchen and dining room, with a door leading to the bedroom and bathroom. Everything seemed ideal, and I was just about to head downstairs and agree to rent the place when I noticed something odd. There was a strange bottle standing on the cupboard in the kitchen. It was blue and looked kind of old, and I was certain it wasn’t there when I came in. When I walked closer I noticed a peculiar smell, so I uncorked the bottle to take a peek inside. Almost immediately I was overcome with an extremely weird sensation, then just as suddenly I lost consciousness.
When I awoke the first thing I noticed was how dark it was. I couldn’t see anything at first. The second thing I noticed was that I was naked. I was lying on a hard wooden surface. At once the thought crossed my mind that I had been kidnapped. There must have been some sort of gas in that bottle that knocked me out. I began to panic a little, but managed to calm myself. I had to think rationally if I was to escape. But as my eyes adjusted to the dim light I realized with a shock where I was. In front of me loomed a massive door, only visible by the light that came in around its edge. It seemed to be about ninety feet tall, but I knew that had to be impossible, because I recognized it as the door of the cupboard in the apartment’s kitchen.
“Which means,” I thought to myself in horror, “that I’m only two inches tall! I’ve been shrunk!”I began to panic intensely. My mind couldn’t possibly cope with this sudden shock, but, with a great deal of effort, I managed to calm down.
“There must be an explanation!” I thought. “I couldn’t just have shrunk like this! It’s not possible!”
But telling myself that it wasn’t possible didn’t help at all. I was still only two inches tall. If I don’t find out how this happened I might never get back to my proper size. It was a terrifying thought, so I began searching at once for a way out of the cupboard. I was on a wooden shelf just beneath the sink; above me I could see its pipes. Drops of water fell from the pipe every few seconds. I realized that it may be a long while before I get something else to drink, so I stood beneath the falling drops and caught as much of them as I could with my hands.
My next task was to find a way down to the floor level. Peeking over the edge of the shelf I could see the lower level about sixty feet below me. There was no way that I’d be willing to jump that far, even keeping in mind that my reduced mass meant that I’d land much lighter. It seemed hopeless for me until I stumbled upon something at the back of the cupboard.
It was some sort of electric wire, covered in insulation. It lead from where I was standing down to the floor diagonally. There was even a tiny hole where it met the ground, leading outside. I could grab onto the wire, climb down, and try to squeeze through that hole. Before I did, however, I tried climbing up the wire. It was the only way back to the dripping water, which was my only guaranteed source of it. After I was satisfied that I wouldn’t be dying of thirst anytime soon I descended to the floor and only just managed to squeeze through the half-inch wide hole.
To say that I was overwhelmed by the vast size of the apartment would be an understatement. After my eyes adjusted to the bright light my first feeling was one of stupefaction. The living space may have felt cramped when I first saw it, but now it was unbelievably vast. The ceiling seemed impossibly high above me, at least 350 feet, maybe more. The little dining table was now over 100 feet high, and the cupboard I had just left was even higher. It was also cold out here. Outside it was early autumn, but, since summer here up north only lasted a month, low temperatures were nearly always expected. Judging from the shadows on the walls the sun was already setting.
No, wait. It was rising, not setting. After watching the sun shining through the window for a few minutes I was certain that it was early morning. So it’s been nearly a day since I’d foolishly opened that bottle. I was made further aware of this fact by my growling stomach. But where could I possibly find food? The once cosy apartment had now become a hostile, alien environment.
I spent the rest of the day wandering about the enormous room. I tried to find a way out through the front door, but, little though I was, there wasn’t enough room for me to crawl underneath. I was well and truly trapped here. After hours of searching I found a few stale crumbs of bread on the kitchen floor. They tasted pretty bad and were extremely tough to chew, but they would last for a few days at least. I began praying that someone would come and rescue me, but no-one came. As it grew dark I crawled back into the cupboard and climbed up the wire. The water was still dripping, and I was glad to be able to cool my throat. I curled up into a little ball to keep myself warm and tried to get some sleep. It was decidedly uncomfortable, lying on a shelf of hard wood, but I was so tired that I soon drifted off.
Three more nights came and went, and my situation has still not improved. My daylight hours were mostly spent searching for food, since I had already given up trying to escape from here. I felt more miserable with every second that passed, wondering how much longer I’d be able to survive here without help. On the morning of the third day I came upon a dead cricket on the bottom shelf of my cupboard. It was about an inch long, three feet on my scale. Under normal circumstances I’d have been repulsed by such an enormous insect, but right now my only thought was food.
I thrust my hand into its abdomen and pulled out some of its disgusting insides. They smelt sickeningly horrible, and tasted even worse. I must have vomited up most of my first mouthful before forcing myself to swallow the rest. Afterwards my stomach felt ill, so I went to my makeshift toilet, a little hole in the bottom shelf. After shitting out most of what I’d eaten during the last few days I decided I’d rather starve to death than eat decaying bug flesh again.
“This is hopeless,” I thought to myself in despair. “I won’t last a week if I keep on living like this.”
I decided that from now on I’d conserve my energy. Instead of going out to look for food I’d just remain near my water supply, not doing anything but lie around. It sounded like a good idea, so I immediately climbed back to the corner where I slept each night. By now I was filthy from head to toe and in serious danger of becoming ill.
But there were some pleasant surprises. I noticed that I wasn’t growing a beard, and that my hair and nails had stopped growing as well. Was this a side effect of being mysteriously shrunk? I didn’t know, but I was thankful that I didn’t have to worry about those things. Thus I went to sleep, my fourth night in this hell. I didn’t know at the time that there would only be three more.
The next morning was sunny yet cold, just like I expected. I decided to break my ‘no moving around’ rule just this one time, to see the sunlight. Imagine my surprise when I realized that there was someone else in the apartment. A large suitcase was standing on the floor before me. Next to it were several smaller bags, lying around. They contained lots of things, mostly groceries. My heart leapt at the sight of so much food. Finally, my days of torment and suffering were over! I started running towards the nearest bags when something made me stop in my tracks and run back. It was the owner of the bags, returning from the bedroom, and what a sight it was!
A young girl came walking towards me, about my age, and 200 feet tall relative to me. She was wearing black flat-heeled shoes, dark blue trousers, a green pullover shirt and a dark blue hooded jacket. As my gaze rose upwards along her well-proportioned body she took of her jacket and put it on the table. I was now able to see her face, and was amazed at how beautiful she was.
Merely describing her cannot convey how beautiful she appeared to me. She had long, slightly wavy, golden brown hair, which framed her face and enhanced her beauty. Her eyes were as blue as the sky and her lips were a beautiful deep red. Her skin was pale, but it seemed to shine with some kind of inner warmth. Perhaps I was merely ecstatic at seeing another person again, so I may have been exaggerating. However, from then on, she would only become more beautiful with every passing day.I wanted to get her attention immediately, so that she could help me, but something held me back: uncertainty. The uncertainty of how she would react to seeing a two inch-tall naked man in what was now her apartment. For all I knew she might be scared to death of me or, worse yet, mistake me for a bug and stomp on me. I’ve always been a shy person, especially around girls, so I had no idea how to handle the situation. After waiting for ages for someone who could help me, I now found myself too terrified to talk to that someone.
“Wait for the right moment,” I told myself as I crawled back into the cupboard so she wouldn’t see me. “She’s still getting used to the place. Wait until she’s settled down, and her life is back to normal, then it’ll be the right moment to talk to her.”
So began the sad part of my stay in the apartment, where I had lots of chances of ending my misery, but decided not to because I was too scared. I spent almost all the time inside the cupboard, in a dark corner where the girl wouldn’t find me. Every night I would sneak out and look around on the floor for leftover food that had been dropped. If I was lucky there would be a patch of moonlight on the floor to light my way, but most of the time it was nearly pitch black, and I went to sleep hungrier and more miserable than I had been before. On the second day after her arrival a man came up to the apartment. I reckoned he must be a plumber, because he spent almost an hour working underneath the sink while I tried to stay hidden. When he left I saw to my horror that the once leaky pipe was now fixed.
“This is bad!” I thought to myself. “If I don’t get help soon I’m going to die! I have to talk to her somehow; I simply have to!”
As I sat in my dark corner I began to cry. I’ve never felt this bad before in my life. I desperately tried to clear my mind. There was no longer any choice. Getting her attention was the only option that didn’t end in certain death.
When I ventured outside to find her she was gone. There was no sign of her anywhere, so I deduced that she’d gone out for the evening, possibly the night. It was five o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun was setting. I decided to wait until she returned and approach her then. I lay down next to the hole in the cupboard. It was warmer in here now; she must have turned on the heating system.
I spent the time thinking about her. Even though I was scared of her, of how huge she was, there was no doubt that I was in love with her. Every time I dared to go outside and catch a glimpse of her I was awestruck by her beauty. I didn’t even know her name, but I desperately wanted her to love me like I loved her. As I fantasized about her I masturbated a little. It felt tremendously good, but I would have to be careful. If I didn’t control my desires for her after she met me, there was no telling how she might react. She couldn’t possibly have any feelings for someone like me, least of all when I’m stuck at this puny size.