Day 25
June 19th
It's Tuesday, the weather sucks and Mom is working from home again, so there's nothing to do but play video games and watch TV. You and your sisters are doing the latter, mindlessly flipping from one 90s comedy to the next trying to find one that sticks. Valerie is in charge of the remote while Faith is in charge of you, keeping you firmly cradled against her soft black hoodie in one arm while she taps something on her phone.
"There!" says Faith. "That's our hotel reservation booked."
"Did you find a good place?" you ask.
"Tenth floor, king-sized bed, and get this: Hot tub in the suite!"
Valerie shakes from her TV daze. "Seriously!?"
Faith leans her head back with a smug grin. "You're not the only one here who can plan a date, sis."
"How can you afford all that?" you ask, knowing how much her art commissions were netting.
"I can't. Val, can you spot me $200?"
"Fine," says Valerie with a roll of her eyes, then whispers "But only so you can fuck me in a jacuzzi."
Faith smiles, rubbing her bare legs against her sister's. "Deal!"
Her touch causes Valerie to stumble with the remote. She accidentally flips away from the movie to the local news. By the time she gets her thumb back on the button, the anchor begins.
"Officials say this is the tenth individual with MAGS to go missing this month."
Your ears perk up. Ten tinies have gone missing this month alone?
A photo fills the screen of a young man with chubby cheeks that shine red like a polished doll. His short, greasy blonde hair shows specks of dandruff. He flashes a teeth-baring smile against a cloudy background, probably from his high-school yearbook. "Brian Davis is the latest in a string of sudden disappearances that has the MAGS-affiliated community concerned."
Faith perks up. "Holy shit, that's Brian!"
"Who's Brian?" asks Valerie.
The name tickles your memory. "Wait, is that the guy you almost..." You stop yourself, considering Valerie's presence. "... went on that date with?"
Faith nods. "That's the guy. Obviously, he was fine when I left."
The anchor continues. "The chief of police was quick to dismiss rumors that a serial kidnapper may be targeting MAGS-afflicted individuals in the area, noting that the Summer months are especially dangerous for 'tinies' and that precautions should be taken to protect them from outdoor predators, indoor pets and the elements."
You watch with your jaw clenched. Tinies going missing is, sadly, nothing new. Your life expectancy is in the 40s from animals alone. Still, ten people in a month is a lot, especially when tinies are rare in your area to begin with.
"A serial kidnapper that targets tinies," Valerie repeats. "Sis, didn't that guy live just half an hour from here?"
Faith tightens her arm around you, hugging you to her breast. "Don't worry, Nate. I'm not letting anyone take you from me."
Just then, there's a knock at the front door. "I'll get it!" Valerie hops off the couch and answers, leaving Faith control of the remote. She already has a monster movie started by the time your little sister comes back with a small, rain-soaked package.
"Nate, can I borrow you for a sec?" Valerie asks, her fingers tapping the box excitedly.
Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Valerie tears tape off the cardboard parcel and shuffles through bubble-wrap. "There!" She pulls out a tiny box between her thumb and forefinger and plops it down in front of you. For you, it's about the size of your waist.
You eye the unmarked box curiously. "This is for me?"
"Open it, Valerie says with an eager grin.
Curious, you rip the box open. Inside, you find a bundle of what appear to be thick, translucent rings roughly the width of your neck. Each ring has a clasp showing that they can be opened and closed around something easily. "What are these?" you ask, holding up a ring.
"They're waterproof safety collars for tinies." Valerie takes the ring in your hands and taps it. The translucent plastic comes to life with a white glow, bright enough to hurt your eyes if you stare too long. "They give off a lot of light in very dark places."
Now you recognize them. When you were growing up, Mom and Dad used to argue about making you wear these so they could always spot you. You push the package away. "Valerie, I'm not a little kid anymore."
"Nate, listen," your sister leans in. "They give off a lot of light in very dark places. And they're waterproof."
Your eyes go wide, catching her meaning. "Wait, you got these for..."
She lifts her top and places her hand over her womb. "The next time you're in there, I want you to see everything."
Suddenly you're very excited to have these. You take one of the collars and put it around your neck. It's a snug fit, not tight enough to choke you but it won't bounce around either.
"Eeeee!" Valerie snatches you off the bedsheets excitedly and squeezes you against her belly. "I can't wait for this weekend! It's going to be the best night ever!"
As you're smothered against her belly and the layer of pudge that separates you from her waiting womb, you have to agree.
