Kevin gazed down at his tiny mother, secured gently but firmly within the straw cross. The frantic energy had drained from her small form, replaced by a strange stillness. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes, though still wide, held a flicker of something akin to resignation.
"Mom?" Kevin whispered, his voice barely audible.
Beth’s tiny head turned slowly, her gaze finding his. There was no accusation in her eyes now, just a profound weariness. "Kevin," she squeaked, her voice thin.
"Are you... okay?" He knew it was a ridiculous question. She was tiny, bound by tape to a makeshift cross. But he didn’t know what else to say.
A faint sigh escaped her lips. "I... I don't know, Kevin. I just... I feel so strange." Her gaze drifted down her own miniature body, now completely bare. Surprisingly, there was no hint of embarrassment in her tone. "It's... odd. Being like this. So small... so exposed."
Kevin’s cheeks flushed slightly, though he tried to keep his gaze fixed on her face. He hadn’t really processed her nudity in the midst of her panic. Now, seeing her so vulnerable, a peculiar mix of awkwardness and fascination stirred within him. He found himself noticing the delicate curve of her collarbone, the faint rise and fall of her minuscule chest.
"I... I can get you something to cover up," he offered, his voice a little shaky.
Beth shook her tiny head. "No, it's alright, Kevin. It... doesn't seem to matter anymore." A strange calmness had settled over her, an acceptance of her bizarre predicament. "It's... almost peaceful. Being still. Not having to... do anything."
Kevin frowned slightly. He hadn’t expected this reaction. He had anticipated anger, fear, continued hysteria. But his tiny mother seemed... subdued, almost serene.
He found himself studying her more intently. The way the soft light from his desk lamp illuminated her small features, the delicate curve of her limbs held in place by the tape. There was a strange sort of order to it, her immobility. He had, in a way, contained the chaos, brought a sense of control to the impossible situation. And a part of him, a part he didn't quite understand, liked it this way. He liked having her there, small and dependent, under his gaze.
"Are you... comfortable?" he asked, the question sounding absurd even to his own ears.
"As comfortable as one can be when they've been shrunk to the size of a doll and taped to a cross by their son," she replied, a hint of her usual dry wit returning, though her voice remained soft. "But... yes. The struggling was exhausting. This... this is quiet."
Kevin sat down on his desk chair, his gaze never leaving her. He felt a strange sense of responsibility wash over him, a protectiveness towards this tiny version of his mother. He had done this to her, and now he was her caretaker, her provider.
He reached out a finger, hesitating for a moment before gently stroking her minuscule arm. Her skin felt surprisingly soft.
"I'm going to figure this out, Mom," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "I'm going to find a way to change you back."
Beth looked up at him, her tiny eyes searching his face. "Do you think you can, Kevin?"
He nodded firmly, though a seed of doubt lingered in his mind. He had no idea how this had happened, let alone how to reverse it. But looking at her now, so small and vulnerable, he knew he had to try. He had to fix what he had broken.
But as he sat there, watching his tiny, nude mother resting peacefully in her makeshift restraints, a quiet, unsettling thought began to form in the back of his mind. A thought he didn't dare acknowledge, a feeling that whispered of a strange, newfound sense of control and a reluctance to let it go. He had his mother with him, entirely dependent on him, in a way she never had been before. And a silent, selfish part of him wondered if he truly wanted things to go back to normal.
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