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Printed from https://writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1125410-Tiny-Way-Of-Life/cid/341781-Not-worth-the-effort
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by chaos Author IconMail Icon
Rated: XGC · Interactive · Adult · #1125410
Born only three-inches tall, go through different periods in your tiny life.
This choice: Run into your little sister  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

Not worth the effort

    by: chaos Author IconMail Icon
Yawning once more, you scratch your behind and get off your sock bed. After giving yourself a once over to see if you have any lasting injuries from last night, you change quickly into a pair of dolls clothes. They’re uncomfortable and itchy, but they are all you have. You jump off the shelf and onto the soft-carpeted floor. You really wish you could have your own room, so you could have some privacy, but your mom tells you you’re safer in the living room. Not that privacy matters much, no one notices you half the time. Sometimes you wonder if you are also invisible because no one seems to see you unless you’re screaming your lungs out at them.

You start walking towards the kitchen, where you can hear your older sister and mother talking. Your sister is mist likely not mentioning her partying last night because if you remember right, she’s grounded for losing you a few weeks ago. It was nothing major, you were at the mall with her and she took her eyes off you for one minute. It was just bad luck that someone knocked you to the ground and your sister left, she did find you eventually. Stuff like that has happened to you often, so it’s no big deal. Just another hazard of being so small.

“Look who we have here,” a high-pitched voice giggles from behind you. Feeling that sinking sensation in your stomach whenever you’re in trouble, you turn around to face your youngest sibling. “Hi Tulip,” you grumble, and then start walking towards the kitchen faster. If you can get to the kitchen and be seen by your family, you’d be safe. But your tiny legs are no match for your sisters lightning fast grab, which she has perfected from years of practice. Her fingers pluck you off the floor before you can get another inch to the kitchen. You’re brought up to her pudgy, young face and stared at evilly by the merciless pre-teen. You don’t even bother trying to break away from her grasp because all that would do was send you falling to the ground, knocking the wind out of you and giving her ample time to pick you back up.

“So what are you going to do with me today, stick me on the top shelf? Throw me behind the couch cushions? Suck on me like a pacifier, till I’m spitting out your drool. Just do it already and get it over with.” After all the years of abuse, nothing she does surprises you any more. Better to just let her have her fun and get on with the day.

Tulip frowns at your lack of fight. Tormenting you is only fun because you hate it so much, without you kicking and screaming, none of the plans she had for you seem worth it. “Forget it,” she grumbles. “Why don’t you just scram.” Then, without even looking at you, she tosses you over her shoulder and halfway across the room. She doesn’t even bother checking to see where you landed, all she wants to do is have breakfast and try to think of new ways to use you to amuse her.

You have the following choices:

1. You land in a laundry basket

2. You land on the couch

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