The next morning, John awoke to the faintest tremors, subtle vibrations that rippled through the surface beneath him. Even cushioned by the soft fabric of the shoebox, he could feel them—steady, rhythmic. Footsteps.

  His body tensed instinctively, heart kicking against his ribs. It took a moment to remember where he was. He was still there. Still in her room.

  The footsteps weren’t coming toward him. They were outside, passing the room. A door creaked open.

  A long pause.

  Then, the door cracked open just a little, and her shadow stretched across the desk.

  She peeked inside, her enormous form blocking part of the light from the doorway. Her gaze nded on him, and when she saw he was awake, her lips parted as if considering something. Then, she took a small step inside.

  “I brought some bread,” she murmured, holding up a small piece pinched between her fingers. “I thought… maybe this would help you?”

  John stared at it, his stomach twisting. He was hungry, that much he knew, but the sight of her fingers—each one longer than his body—holding his food like it was nothing made his skin crawl.

  Still, she made no sudden moves. She crouched slightly, resting her elbow against the desk to be more level with him. Then, with slow precision, she pced the bread down near the shoebox and withdrew her hand.

  She waited.

  John swallowed. His throat felt dry.

  After a long moment, he inched forward, hesitant. Then, finally, he reached out and took a small piece, tearing off a corner and pressing it between his fingers.

  It was soft. Familiar. The sensation of something normal in a world that had become utterly incomprehensible.

  He took a bite.

  She hesitated again, then spoke quietly. "I don’t know if I should ask, but… are you holding up alright?"

  John stiffened, his breath hitching. His fingers curled into the fabric draped over him, his entire body rigid. The air in the room thickened. He didn't answer.

  The air in the room felt too vast, stretching out endlessly around him, and she—she was still watching him, her gaze gentle but overwhelming, her sheer presence an inescapable force.

  His body screamed at him to do something—to run, to hide, to speak—but all he could do was grip his arms tightly on the bread.

  Then, after a long moment, she exhaled softly. "You can talk to me whenever you like.” And then she left the room. He finished the piece of bread he had been given and lied looking to the ceiling for a while. After a bit, she came back to the room. She cleared her throat. "I... found an old phone. It can’t use data because I bought it from China so it can’t be activated to make calls, but it has WiFi. Maybe you can try and use it?"

  She set down the phone carefully along a stylus and phone holder on the shoebox. "You don’t have to hold it. Just… see if this works for you."

  John stared at the device, then at her. He didn’t move. His fingers twitched slightly, hesitating.

  "It’s okay," she murmured. "Take your time."

  She walked towards her bed and started scrolling on her own phone, without looking at him.

  Why was she so hell bent on staying?

  John sat inside those box and stared down at the glowing screen. The stylus felt like holding a baseball bat, but he was getting used to it—slowly. His first instinct had been to type the name of the condition. He hesitated before hitting enter, as if the search itself might change things.

  There it was. A subreddit.

  r/SMALLSURVIVORS.

  "A support and discussion forum for those affected by unexpined or involuntary shrinking. Share experiences, ask for advice, and connect with others who understand."

  John clicked in. The pinned post at the top read:

  WELCOME: Read This First!?? Important Rules: ??

  No size-fetish content. No weird DMs. Don’t be that person.This is a support community, not a sideshow. Treat everyone with respect.Safety first. If you are newly shrunk, read the resources below before posting.Common Newbie Questions:?? What do I do now? → Depends on your circumstances. Read the top survival tips thread.?? Is there a cure? → Short answer: No. Long answer: Keep hoping, but don’t wait for it.?? How do I live like this? → Depends on who you’re with.?? Am I legally a person? → Varies by country. Generally, it’s a grey area.

  John scrolled down to the normal posts.

  ?? [Megathread] Survival Tips from Long-Timers[??Pinned by Mods]?? 2.1K Comments

  u/Stay_Sane: If you’re new, first thing to know: Your life is different now, but it’s not over. Learn how to navigate spaces safely. Learn how to signal for help if needed. If you’re with someone you trust, communicate. If you’re not—get out.u/VioletJenny: Get used to people treating you like a pet or a toy. Even the well-meaning ones. They don’t see you the same way anymore. Some try, but they slip up.u/Survivor1998: DO NOT TRUST RANDOM STRANGERS. Just because they act nice doesn’t mean they see you as a person.?? [New] Just Shrunk. I’m Freaking Out.?? u/LostAndFound?? 189 Comments

  "I don’t even know what to say. This happened to me st night. Woke up like this. My roommate is trying to be helpful, but I can tell she’s freaked out too. What do I do? How do I make sure she doesn’t just… forget about me? Or get tired of dealing with me?"

  u/BigBrotherHelp: Find ways to make yourself useful ASAP. If she sees you as a burden, you won’t st.u/BadFriday: Talk to her. Be clear about what you need. If she was a good friend before, she won’t throw you away now.u/DestinyMutiny: You’re totally at her mercy. Get used to that.[Discussion] What’s the Worst Thing Someone Has Said to You Since Shrinking??? u/TinyTears?? 713 Comments

  u/Was_6ft: My own sister called me ‘her little doll.’u/MuffOuts: Some dude at work asked if I could still pay rent when I “barely take up space.”u/LostProperty: Someone joked about putting me in their pocket, and I ughed at the time. Then I realized they were serious.u/ButtonLife: At first, I hated being called a Button. But now? It’s ours. Might as well own it before someone else does.John put the stylus down. His hands were shaking. It was too much.

  He didn’t realize how hard he was breathing until he heard the soft chime of a notification from Discord.

  A message. From her.

  [Laura]Hey. Just checking in. It’s me.This phone has my alt Discord account. You can talk to me here, if you want.What is your name?

  His stomach lurched. Not a simple twist of nerves—something deeper, heavier, like he was falling even though he hadn't moved.

  “God fucking damn it.” He thought.

  He had walked up to her, looking for her help—in a way, he begged for it—and yet, somehow, he still hadn’t really spoken to her aside yelling at her the previous day .

  John turned, eyes drawn to her like a force of gravity he couldn’t resist. She was sitting on the bed, her massive frame rexed, but when she noticed him looking, she lifted a hand in an easy wave.

  Something about it made the air feel too thick in his lungs.

  John clenched his fists.

  He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look up at her again. The sheer size of her, the way she filled the space—it was suffocating. Not because she was doing anything wrong, but because he couldn’t make his body stop reacting to it. His instincts screamed that he was small, that he was overmatched.

  But she had reached out. She had meant it.

  His mouth opened. Nothing came out.

  He swallowed again, forcing the words through the tightness in his throat.

  "L-La-La-La-u-u-u-ra..."

  His own voice betrayed him, weak and unsteady, the name barely making it past his lips. He winced.

  Her eyes softened, but she didn’t interrupt. She looked at him full of wonder like a poppy who had just peed on the carpet in front of her.

  “La-La-u-u-ra..." The final part of the name couldn’t be heard since he had fallen on his knees and started to cry again, unable to breathe. His body treated her like she was a monster.

  He forced the name out again. And again. And again.

  “La-La-La—Laura.”

  It came out whole. Clear. His breath shuddered, his chest rising and falling too fast, but he had done it. He had said it.

  His vision blurred with tears, but this time, they weren’t from panic. His lips trembled—and then, despite himself, he smiled. It was a triumph. He had said it, he had finally managed to say it! It was a small step for a man, but a giant leap for his kind. He looked at the ceiling and felt as if the stars were congratuting him from beyond.

  Laura, for her part, looked utterly and completely lost. Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for some kind of instruction manual on what to do next, her mouth slightly open in that particur expression of “uhhhh…”

  Upon seeing her, he started to ugh. She then started to ugh too. That made him startled for a moment, but he managed to continue and ugh with her.

  Once they had calmed down, he tried to speak up again.

  “My-my na-ame is Jo-ohn.”

  She smiled and started writing on her phone. He saw a new notification on the phone.

  “Nice to meet you John.” She wrote.“I see you get startled when I speak up, so I can write to you here, if you prefer.”

  That was nice but… if she didn’t keep speaking to him, he would never get used to the sound of her voice!

  He shook his head and she looked at him in confusion.

  “No? No, what?” She wrote to him through the phone once again.

  He shook his head again.

  “Would you like me to speak out loud?” She asked in her own voice this time, he got startled again, but this time, he nodded.

  “Are you sure?” She asked, trying to be soft.

  “Y-yes.”

  She looked like she was about to say something, but then she just said “okay.”

  He got an idea that was silly but it could just work. He closed his eyes and after breathing in and out a few times, he managed to say “Thank y-you for saving me.”

  He then opened his eyes and saw her blushing, looking at the sides. “No! It’s nothing! Wait no, I mean… I know it’s not nothing but– I mean, I– I– I– I am gd I am able to help.”

  He blinked.

  A small, startled ugh escaped him before he could stop it. She looked at him, wide-eyed, and then—hesitantly, as if unsure whether she was allowed—she ughed again too.

  That surprised him even more. But somehow, this time, he didn’t freeze up. He just kept ughing, and so did she. His chest was still tight, his limbs still felt shaky. But now, he was ughing.

  His ughter faded into something softer, his chest still rising and falling with the remnants of it. He wiped at his eyes, taking a deep breath. The room felt a little lighter.

  Laura would sometimes look at her phone but then she would look back at him with her head tilted slightly, waiting.

  He swallowed and tried again. Words were still heavy in his mouth, but maybe—maybe—he could push through.

  His lips parted.

  “You… you’re…” He hesitated, then forced it out. “H-huge.”

  The moment it was said, he stiffened. His stomach twisted, breath catching. Why did he say that? Why that, of all things?

  Slowly, deliberately, she raised a finger as if about to correct him, lips parting—forming the start of a sound, then another, every vowel hovering in the air like she was picking the right one. And then, she just stopped. Her hand lowered. Her expression shifted into a sad face.

  “…Okay.”

  “For the love of God John that’s the st thing you should ever say to a woman.” I facepalmed. He was clueless, he was absolutely clueless.

  At that moment, he felt something horrifying.

  “Ba-bathroom.”

  “What?” She looked at him, confused.

  “Bathro-oom.”

  He needed to go, he needed to go, and right away, or he would destroy the shoebox.

  “Oh no! Wait! I can take you to the washbasin, would it be okay if I carry you?”

  The mere thought of being carried again terrified him.

  “Or, would you prefer to just do things there and then look for new clothes?”

  No way in hell. He shook his head.

  “Okay… the washbasin it is?”

  He quickly nodded, and she stood up from the bed. He barely had time to brace himself before her hands came forward—not cupped tightly like before, but shaped into a careful cradle, her right hand was his floor and her left hand was set vertically, forming a wall at the fingers slightly curved to form walls on one side.

  Her palms were warm beneath him, the ridges of her skin subtly shifting as she moved. His fingers curled instinctively against the curve of her thumb, grasping at it like a railing, as if he could anchor himself against the overwhelming size of the world around him.

  She moved carefully, but every step still sent a tremor through his tiny frame. As she walked toward the bathroom, he shut his eyes and forced himself to breathe. For a few moments he felt like he would just shit himself there out of pure terror.

  After what felt like an agonizing minute (it had actually being no more than 15 seconds) Laura pced him on the basin, he removed his makeshift pants and gave them to her, then he froze.

  “Oh, do you want me to look away? Should I go?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay, but scream if you need help, alright?”

  He nodded, and once she was finally gone he managed to take care of his earthly needs.

  The problem came afterwards.

  Naturally, he didn’t want her to see the mess he had made… in the washbasin. He thought he could probably open the faucet, but the porcein of the basin and its form made it hard for him to climb it, he felt like crying again. “God, please, no, just let me clean it, please.” But he couldn’t reach the top, it was too slippery, and there was the risk of touching the thing with his feet if he lost his bance, he fell on his knees, defeated once again. “What did I do to deserve this?” He ughed and cried.

  “Laura!” After 5 minutes of indecision, he sorted out to finally call her name.

  “Oh, finally, I was worried I didn’t hear about you.” She appeared, and offered her hands again, he looked around for his pants. “Oh, right! Your pants!” She left the room and came back. He put them on, and stood up on her hands without looking at her.

  He felt more conscious of the carrying this time around, he looked for a moment down below and he felt vertigo, the floor was really far away. It was like being on a balcony 4 stories above with no railing. He saw her making sure her hands were close to her bellybutton, and he held himself as tight as possible to her fingers.

  She finally lowered him back on his shoebox, and he finally got down, he felt relieved of being on solid ground. Then he looked at her, ashamed, but she turned around and left the room.

  “I’m going to take care of something, I will be right back!”

  He heard her open the faucet of the washbasin, then the shower, then a bucket of water being poured, then some brushing, a spray, then more water, then the faucet again.

  “I don't even have any dignity left.” There were tears in his eyes.

  After 20 minutes or so, she came back to the room.

  “There! That is done now, the good thing is that your toilet arrives tomorrow!”

  He shook his head, confused.

  “Your toilet! Well, it’s more of a tiny toilet, but it’s real! It has a small water tank and everything,” she said, making a small shape with her hands. “I even got you a sink, so you can wash your hands properly. It has a little pump for water?”

  John stared at her, completely dumbfounded.

  “I…. what?”

  She pouted. “Trust me, it is designed for button people like y– ah, wait! Sorry, I mean, tiny people, or well, I don’t know if that's okay with you.”

  He wanted to talk, but the words would get stuck on his throat, every time he saw her move made him freeze. At the end, he only managed a nod.

  “Their shipping is very fast! But I– I couldn’t get the shower, it was too expensive and I– well, or maybe in the future, but you will have to forgive me now, I’m sorry.”

  He stared at her like she had just grown a second head.

  “Wait, I should have asked you first about this, shouldn’t I?”

  I stared at her too.