This choice: Your panic overwhelms you and you crash past him. • Go Back...Chapter #5Your panic overwhelms you and you crash past him. by: Mr. George   Shaking the image from your mind, the imagined taste of him from you mouth. You charge at him... past him, fleeing like a gazelle, you clip him with your shoulder as you pass. Your chest heaves at the impact, and you ricochet towards the next door.
Weakly, a startled, confused and stiffening Joey was too terrified to follow his dream girl as she threw the next door wide and fled. He was too stunned to even speak, question, object, apologise. Hell, he didn't know what going on. His mouth closed, with a soft click of his teeth. Looking around the room, "Lucky bastard, Will."
- - - - -
You heave the door closed behind you, as you need something solid between you and him. Though whether to stop him or you, it's hard to say. In either case, it's a problem, you don't have a key to get back in... if you want to... when you want to go back. Your hand still on the handle, you tremble in fear, confused and afraid. Your grip tightens as the door lurches upwards. Not far, but a good few inches. Your whole body springs in response.
"Heading to the pool." A voice asks.
Turning you see your neighbour, or a taller version at least.
"Er.. well..." you blurt, incapable of more.
"Red suits you." he fills in the incoherent noise you make. The reflection in the window opposite, shows the new you. Shows the new shorter you. Or at least the top half of you. The rest of your body too short, falls below the bottom of the window frame.
Jesus, you think to yourself, you might be short, but you're not petite. Too late, you realise you're groping your new chest. The red bikini visible beneath your top. It all feels convincingly, scarily real. You gasp in humiliated horror, at the display you're putting on for Mr. Williams.
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Far too late, you drop, throw your arms down to your side. With as much dignity, and as slowly as your terror allows you walk down the stairs to the apartment pool. It sounds like Mr. Williams is only a pace or two behind you, every step of the way.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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