There's a light shining through my sheets. It blinds me, even though I'm under blanket. They've come looking for me.

But it's not flashlights. It's the sun.

I feel asleep somehow, last night. I guess I'm too dumb to think without falling asleep.

Lie perfectly still, and time doesn't pass.

I can't face life out of the bed yet. Although I'm safe, I guess. If the cops found out about the brothel, they would have been here by now. They would have taken me and asked me questions until I cried and told them everything. I know I would have cried. I'll probably cry anyway.

My guess is after Frances's dad beat up everybody he could get his hands on, he left without telling anyone, since he could get in trouble too. Especially if he killed them. God, I hope he didn't kill them.

I can't believe he'd do this to me.

It's the sun. And the blanket. It's too hot to stay here and it's getting hard to breathe, but I stay a little while longer. Then I pull the blanket from my face.

And I pull it again. And again. And there's still more blanket covering me.

I panic and I start flailing wildly, hoping to fall off the edge of the bed, but I can't seem to find the edge. I don't think any amount of tossing can entangle me this much. But I can't seem to do this.

It's like when I camped out in Tino's yard and the wet tent fell down on us. Except this is like a much bigger, hotter tent.

I stop to catch my breath.

My brothers. They must have pushed all their beds together, put me on it, and covering me in on giant sheet, being held down on the edges. I'm not in the mood for this.

What if he really is dead? I won't be able to live with myself.

I had forgotten. Thompson gave me a pocketknife to carry just in case. I still have it in my jean pocket.

I'm tearing a hole through this thing. Serves them right anyway.

The blanket is thick. Where did they get this thing? Or did they make it? They always go to such lengths to torture me, but they never put that hard work to any good use do they?

I make it out of that furnace. The sun is as bright as it's ever been.

I look around for the edge of the bed and realize it. This is my bed. I've been shrunk down to the size of an insect.

It's too much. I flop back down on top of the blanket and close my eyes. As much as I don't want to face reality, I don't want to waste any time dreaming. Reality is strange enough.

-

There was another dream. It was so quick I don't even remember it, but it seems like only ten minutes passed.

My entire room is still too huge for me. I feel like I'm the same size, so it must be the room. And the only way that could be is that I still can't wake up from this dream. Laying back down didn't work, so I try pinching myself.

Doesn't work.

There's a dark movement that scares me so much, it should have woken me up, but it didn't. That thought scares me more. Just what is it gonna take to wake me from this?

It's a cockroach, crawling up my bed, right towards me. If this were really happening, I'd be out of here so fast. But just maybe, this thing will give me the shock I need to wake up. So I stay.

It stands up on its hind legs and slaps me on top of my head with its antennae.

"Is that it, Lor?" it says. "When was the last time you were able to think this clearly during a dream? For that matter, when have you ever not been able to will yourself awake?"

"Are you saying I'm not dreaming?" I say. "Cause I think I am. I mean, has my bed always been this big?"

"Are you trying to be funny? As a matter of fact, it has. I should know."

"So..."

"Yeah, it's you that shrunk."

"Okay. I shrunk and talking to gross bugs now. Am I supposed to believe it? It sounds like something out of a silly Saturday morning cartoon."

"And yet, if it happened during WWII, it would be fine literature. By the way, you're much grosser than I will ever be. Even when you or your ultimately smashes me into a fine paste. Your species is the truly grotesque."

"And why's that?"

I'm getting tired of this bug's smart mouth. It's bad enough when Tish makes me feel dumb.

"It's because you do the stupidest things. Even the most intelligent of you will make the worst choices. That's why we're here and now."

"Right, I see. You're my spirit animal and you're gonna guide me through my troubled times aren't you? Go ahead and lecture me. I just wanna wake up from all this."

"Still don't believe it, huh? I suppose you learned your lesson the second you realized you had done something stupid, right? Now, you've got it all figured out right?"

"I'm dealing with it. I hadn't even thought about it until you brought it up. Shows how over it I am, doesn't it? And now you're bugging me, so I'm just gonna walk until I wake up."

He hits me on the head again. The antenna messes up my hair, not that I care.

"You won some money, used it to turn a worn out house into a brothel, and hired some poor girls to perform deviant acts for money? And here I thought it was just a simple quarrel among friends. You obviously are not over it."

"And that's why I'm here, right?"

"That's right."

"Shrunken down and talking to disgusting bugs."

"Humans are the only animals with delusions that they need to look a certain way. You look the way you need to look to live in your environment. We all do."

"And just what is it that makes you qualified to counsel humans?"

"You humans flawed because you think too much. Where simple decisions should be made to survive and live your life, you complicate things by letting stupid concepts get in the way."

"Uh huh. Like what?"

I'm humoring him now. No bugs tells me what's what. And then he hits my head again.

"Like that. The need to feel superior. The need to feel more mature than your cohorts. Jealousy. Anger. You need to think like every other animal and live by logic. Eat to survive. Mate to reproduce. That's all it takes."

"There's no way we could live such boring lives. What about enjoyment? "

"Enjoying yourself is fine. As long as you don't let it get in the way of living your life. Enjoyment should be a spice in your life, not your life in itself. That's where you went wrong. You weren't content with just living. You had to live faster than the rest. Because of that, your world is ending."

"What do you know? You're just a bug."

"I don't know myself, why me. But like I said, we bugs don't question our lots in life, we just follow our instincts and live as best we can. Why isn't important, though. What matters is that I can help, and I'm going to."

"Okay, so help. According to you, I'm not dreaming, I shrunk, and my life is ruined because I did something stupid, right? What can you do?"

"All I can do is take you a journey of discovery. It's up to you what you do afterwards."

"Whatever. You can't do anything. Go help somebody else."

"There's nobody as requiring of my assistance as you are, Lor."

I'm sick of this. This stupid bug is really annoying and my head is killing me. I'm going to jump off the edge of the bed, and hope that I wake up from all this.

The roach notices. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm waking up." I say, then I jump.

A split-second later, I land. It was too fast. I didn't realize it was only two feet to the floor. The physics of being small are not kind.

And then I realize I'm still dreaming. And nothing is broken. Even thought, for my size, it seemed like a two-story fall.

I'm on my small knit rug and when I open my eyes, the bug is there again.

"I told you." it says. "You're not dreaming."

"I have to be dreaming. A fall like that would have broken something in real life. But I don't even hurt that much."

"Then, if it's a dream, shouldn't you not be hurting at all?"

"Uh..."

"Your bones didn't break because when you shrunk, your muscles and bones shrunk along with you, and became denser. Haven't you ever dropped a mouse or hamster from this height?" he says and then hits my head again. "Yeah, you have. And it wasn't hurt was it? It just walked away."

I finally break down and cry. My first real cry.

I don't even know what real is anymore. I can't wake up. If this is real, I can't do anything about it.

Crying is perfectly is order.

I feel a gentle stroke against my hair. It's comforting and I'm wishing it's my dad, waking me from my sleep and telling me everything will be alright. But I open my eyes and it's what I thought. A blurry antenna.

"I see. I understand, Lor. Just humor me and let me try to help you."

I take my time wiping my tears and standing up.

"Alright, okay. What do you want me to do?"

"We're going to take a little trip and figure it all out together."

"Won't that take forever? Look how small we are."

"It'll be fine. We're not going to walk, we're going to fly."

"Fly? Cockroaches can't fly."

He laughs out loud. It strange. A cockroach's laugh is quite a thing. It's creepy, but I'm glad I'm dreaming long enough to hear it.

His back opens up and wings pop out. This is something new. When something like this happens, I don't mind the situation, just experiencing something new makes me forget everything, even if it's only for a few seconds.

Whatever this bug can or can't do for me, at least it's something new.

"Alright, Lor. Climb onto my thorax and hold onto my antennae."

"It won't hurt you?"

"No, it'll be fine. We're survivors."

-

-

-

Note: I've been more productive now that I can't spend time online at night. Although I miss chatting with everyone, at least I can get more work done. But anyway, I'll be back soon enough. Until then...