I got up in the middle of the night and made myself food. I sat at the kitchen table with the lights off eating it, a sick, scared feeling in my stomach. I ate whatever it was I'd made, I hadn't looked at the package, and breathed in and out slowly, enjoying the cool, clear, unscented air. I felt my skin under the dry, uncomfortable bandages and winced. Leaving the bandages on for over 24 hours without changing them hadn't helped the healing at all, and I was sure I stank under them all. I shuffled up the stairs to my bathroom and slowly unwound them, piling them on the floor in a heap, the tan cloth stained pink here and there from where my joints had split back open.
I turned the water on, and stepped in wincing, but trying to stay quiet and calm. I rubbed the dried lotion off and worked my muscles under my skin. I ached all over, my skin stung, my joints creaked, I was sore down to my bones. I looked at my shaking hands and clenched them, watching my fists shake too. If this kept up, I'd fall apart. I scrubbed myself down, washing as well as I could with the shower being either 'soft mist' or 'torrential downpour'. As I gingerly toweled myself off, I heard the door open and close. Marissa must have left to go somewhere, I was just glad she didn't take me with her. I walked to the living room and sat down on the sofa, turning on the television. I may as well do some more research while she was gone, I didn't want to sit and re-live what had happened, and I wanted to take my mind off it.
A after a few hours, the door opened again, and I crept away from a horrifying video about how to free class Bs caught in glue traps (with the camera person putting an actual class B in a glue trap to illustrate it) to peek out the window. I wasn't sure I wanted to see her, but I was curious where she'd gone at past 11 at night without changing from her tennis practice clothes. She flicked the light on, then glanced over at my house and grimaced, turning it off again. She was disheveled and looked exhausted, with her hair far more frazzled than it had been. She tucked a small black bag into another hidden cubby and walked into the bathroom, her bare feet making slapping noises as she stepped inside. The door closed gently, and I heard the shower go on a second later. I breathed a sigh of relief, and realized my heart had been beating like a drum the whole time I watched her.
I went back to the video, watching the person pour oil on their terrified class B for a few minutes before I shut it off. I had this feeling of unrest inside me, something that begged me to take action, to do something to fix whatever I could. Instead, I got on my treadmill, my aching legs burning, my chest throbbing, my breaths gasps just moments after getting on. I really was falling apart, I could go for hours before this, now... It was just one more reminder of how much it hurt to exist like this, I needed something to fill my brain.
I got my tablet, and poked around on it. I hadn't explored it much, but there were some apps that had come pre-installed that I wanted to check out. One was a nanny app, and while it was off now, it could be set up to send random screenshots or message history to my guardian. I hoped Marissa didn't know about it, but at this point, I was too tired to even care if she did know, it wouldn't even make my life any worse than it already was. The next app was a glorified safety manual, something to go over to see how best to stay safe, with quizzes and flashcards. Living with Marissa though, it wouldn't matter. She was weirdly well versed in class B safety, usually, but ignored it when it suited her. The last app though, sparked an interest in me.
It was an app for class Bs called "AntMound", a social media and news site of sorts, and it could only be installed on devices with a compressed identifier in them, so it was populated only by other class Bs. I set up an account and starting browsing the news section. I saw articles about the best brands of compressed food, what restaurants offered compressed alternatives, how to tell if your new guardian is suffering from anxiety about the stresses of taking care of you, and how to fix it... There was even a quiz about "what your day to day life says about your relationship with your guardian!" I took it, out of curiosity, and checked my result. Instead of a fun quip or generic line like I was supposed to get, I got "If you need to contact emergency re-homing services, please press the button below, and we'll connect you with an assessor at once." I snorted. I could have guessed that, I supposed. It was tempting, far more than it would have been yesterday... I opened the tab labeled "Science news" and poked around on the articles. A new star was discovered, somehow? How did they not notice a star until now? A new type of protein that compressed more easily had been developed that could provide more nutritious meals for class Bs, which would be nice for me, and...
My eyes widened, and I opened the article I'd seen and read it in more depth.
"We have discovered that the compression particles, in addition to reproducing themselves during the compression process, have recently begun dumping the excess genetic material that acts as a catalyst for the compressions into the air around them. This has led to individuals re-triggering compression shortly after the initial infection due to the genetic materials re-entering their system, as well as multiple cases of individuals who were previously immune contracting the compression virus simply by being in close proximity to someone with a high compression makeup while they were compressing."
So... did that mean my parents could be at a higher risk now? How close did they have to be? The article included photos of a man who'd been exposed to high doses of compression particles before and had no adverse effects, but after his child compressed in front of him, the arm he had used to hold him post compression had been fully annihilated along with parts of his left side and thigh the next time he'd drank a glass of water. The photos were... not pretty. I'd forgoten that the most common result of compression was just people missing chunks of their bodies. If he'd picked up his son while the compression was happening I could understand, everyone knew to stay away from people who were going through that, in case the particles with the genetic fuel already in them got on you too, but just to hold him after the process was done?... I felt so bad for him, he'd just wanted to be there for his kid in a scary time... I didn't know how long it'd taken for my own infection to set in, as it'd happened while I was sleeping, but surely my mom would have mentioned if she'd lost her hand from picking me up, right?
I sent her a link to the article, I didn't know if she'd be able to read it since it was hosted on AntMound, but I was curious if she'd seen any side effects. I also didn't know how recently the particles had changed their behavior, if it was just within the past week, then that's one thing, but if it was an existing issue... That said, were the particles evolving? From my understanding they were just self replicating bits of matter, not living organisms, but if they could grow and change, this could turn from a minor issue to a global panic. It wouldn't effect me either way though, I was already as compressed as I was going to get, there wasn't much to worry about there as far as my future was concerned.
The bathroom door opened again, and I looked out the window to see Marissa's shape walk past, and I heard her sit at her computer. I guessed she was going to be playing her game for a while, so I went back to browsing the tablet, trying to stay calm and ignore her. I got my profile looking nice for the social media part of AntMound, and went about trying to find people to chat with. It looked like most of the app was political discussion, with arguments about if we deserved full rights, or if spouses should be allowed automatic guardianship, or even if underage class Bs needed to be schooled, with people getting very heated very quickly.
I was impressed with how much some of the class Bs seemed to hate themselves, what with the way they were arguing against their best interests, but I almost understood. They didn't ask to be like this, they resented it, and it hurt, so they were lashing out, trying to make themselves feel better by appealing to the class A people's opinions and views, even if the class As didn't care about them either way.
After hours of reading other people's arguments, I checked the clock. It was past 2:30... I was getting tired again, and it was Tuesday tomorrow. Marissa had class with Henri on Tuesdays in the afternoons, so she most likely was going to want to bring me with her. I headed to bed and lay on top of the covers, looking at the ceiling. I really wanted to get more of that cream put on me, with the gauze, but I couldn't bring myself to go outside and get Marissa's attention, and the bottle was much too big for me to squeeze myself. I was more itchy than anything now, which was good, but the air hitting my joints did sting. I closed my eyes, and tried not to flash back to being in her pocket as I dozed off.
~~~
I flinched as the walls of my house swung open around lunchtime the next day, but I stood up from the couch and walked over the front anyway. If she wanted to see me, playing coy or being rude wouldn't help. She stood there, in her sports bra and small shorts and sighed.
"Come on, we're going to my closet to find something to wear." She said, holding her hand out to me.
I was shaking as I climbed in, and I could feel the blood in my ears as I fought back tears. She held me up to her face and stared at me, but I couldn't make eye contact. She clicked her tongue and shook her head.
"I take it you're claustrophobic, then?" She asked gently
I waved my hand in a vague way. I wasn't, usually, but yesterday was something else...
"Ok, so if you're not really claustrophobic, then why are you so mad at me?" She said, sounding frustrated.
I hugged my chest and tried to talk but the words didn't come out. She huffed and walked over to her bed, sitting down in front of the closet door.
"Amber. Talk to me or I won't know what's wrong." She said sternly. "Why are you angry?"
I looked up at her with tears in my eyes, how could she not know? I breathed in and out quickly a few times, and tried again.
"I'm n-not angry, I'm s-scared." my voice sounded small and hollow even to myself.
"Scared? Of a pocket? Or of being left alone? You need to explain better than that."
I struggled, and worked up the courage to let it all out.
"Of YOU." I said, louder than I meant to, but the cork was out now, and the words spewed out
"You put me in that horrible tight place, I couldn't breathe, I was crushed, I was dying, I couldn't move, I was screaming and you didn't care, you made it worse just because you could, I almost died, I passed out, and you didn't even NOTICE. You put me in the most painful, horrible situation of my entire life and you didn't even register you were doing it, and you could do it again at any time, or do something even worse. I am TERRIFIED of you, Marissa."
I panted for air, my heart racing.
"I can't imagine being ok around you right now, I dread the next thing you do to me, I can't even think straight I'm so worked up. Honestly?"
I looked her in the eyes, my own wide and wild. I felt a hot, burning anger and fear in my chest and pulled it out, throwing it at her with my words.
"I just wish you'd go ahead and skip to the inevitable end and fucking kill me, because after what you said Sunday night, what you did yesterday, I don't even want to live like this anymore. This is fucking hell. You. Are. My. Hell. It's bad enough not even being a fucking human anymore, but compared to spending time around you? I'd be more ok being a fucking hamster than a class B if it meant you'd leave me the fuck alone."
She stared at me, her eyes filling with tears, her breathing coming out in puffs. She opened her mouth and shuddered, unable to say what she wanted without overflowing. Her hand shook and she set me down on the bed like I was made of bubbles, and turned away. She obviously didn't want me to see how I had effected her, how my words had power this time, but I didn't care, I'd said it, and I still felt full of terror and fire, mixing together into a blue flame in my chest. Tears went down my cheeks but I didn't feel like I was crying, I felt powerful and insignificant at the same time, like I could kill or be killed and not know the difference. I watched her back as it shook slightly, and she stepped into the bathroom, not turning around as she shut the door behind her. The fan cut on, but under the buzzing noise, I heard her finally break into sobs.
I fell over, the energy going out of me as I felt the victory, the small feeling of winning. I could feel the tears now, inside me and out, and I let myself cry. Did I really hate her that much? I couldn't tell. I'd spoken from the heart, and my heart was on fire, so there's no telling how much I meant of it. I didn't really want to die, I knew that much, but it'd felt good to say I did. Making her feel like she's the reason I felt this way felt like some kind of justice. I did feel mildly bad about it, but it also felt so, so good to see her cry, to know that I somehow did something cruel to her for once.
The bathroom door opened and Marissa stepped out, still red eyed and breathing heavy. She got on her knees in front of the bed and stared at me with an intensity I had never seen from her. She was alert, her eyes were open, and she looked like she was scared and hurt all at once. She put her hands on either side of me and my chest locked up, and I sat back up, scrambling away from her. She shook her head.
"No, look, stop. I'm not good at this, and I don't know how to deal with my thoughts," She said "but I need to get this shit out now while I'm feeling real emotions for once, or I'll never let myself say anything."
I watched her as her eyes flicked over me, looking for a sign of... something. She continued.
"You are important to me. I really do care about you, Amber. I have a shitty way of showing it, I know, but you are my favorite thing in life, and not just because you're my new toy. I value you. I value you as Amber, and it's really really hard for me to admit that, but I do. I'm not going to kill you, I'm not trying to break you, I don't want to traumatize you."
Her face shifted to a more embarrassed one
"I need you to be here, Amber, and I'm so, so glad I was able to get to you first, because... The only way I could ever have gotten to even be around you was if something like this happened." She waved at my tiny body vaguely.
I felt a chill. It almost sounded like she'd been wanting me even before I was compressed when she said it like that. Like she'd tracked me down last week not because she wanted a new pet, but because she'd wanted me.
She brushed her hair out of her face. "That said... I have... needs. Urges, I have cravings and wants, and it feels better to... indulge myself in those needs when it's someone I care about. Someone like my 'friends', or... you."
Was she talking about the past week? Or the past 6 years? Was she saying she'd bullied me, pushed me around, gotten the other girls to hurt me or ruin my clothes and homework and keep me out of after school clubs because she cared about me?
"I'm sorry, I don't understand..." I said, my teeth clicking together as I shivered
She groaned. "I'm not going to say it Amber, I can't say it, not for real. I don't know how. Just know that I care about you, that's as close as I can come to saying what I mean. I'm... I don't- ...I really... regret what you went through yesterday, I had no idea, and I was so busy tending to my cravings, I didn't think about things like air or you being crushed. I want to be able to care for you and protect you, Amber. But... I also want to be able to... do things to you..."
"W-what if I don't like that?..." I asked, trying to collect my thoughts
"I- I have other outlets." She admitted. "That computer game we played was one, just not a very satisfying one, and... I have an agreement with someone who has the 'opposite' interests as me that I use from time to time."
"Is that where you went last night?" I asked
Her cheeks tinted pink and she shook her head dismissively "That's not important, what is important is that I need you, and I can't stand it if you don't like me, or at least tolerate me. I want you to like being here. I know I told you I'd treat you like a princess, and I really meant it, Amber... Not in the mean way like when I said it earlier, I can treat you like a princess for real, you just have to be ok with a little bit of roughness too. I want you to have a good time, I want you to love me." Her face got pinker at the last part, and I felt my cheeks flushing to match.
I couldn't imagine loving her, but...
"I really had fun at the sleepover..." I said tentatively "I thought that was the most normal our relationship had ever been, aside from a couple moments. You were rude and you had fun, but you never hurt me."
"Yeah, I had fun too, mostly..." She agreed. "Let's... I don't know, I feel all... sick and hopeless right now, and I hate the thought of losing all connections to you, I don't want you to be scared of me, let's find a way, ok?"
"I'm still four inches tall..." I reminded her "You're a mountain to me either way, I don't think I can ever be not scared of you, especially if you're getting... 'cravings' to hurt me."
"No, no, not- not to hurt you, never to hurt you." She said, her hand slipping around me softly "Just... to feel powerful, to feel control. I need to feel that sometimes..."
"I just don't know, you hurt me really bad, you messed me up, I passed out. And it's been like a day and a half since you helped me with my bandages, my skin is still raw. I'm not blaming you for the vodka, but you're supposed to help me with stuff when I need it." I said swallowing against the lump in my throat.
"Ok, ok, I'll help you with your bandages, we can do that right away. I didn't know you passed out yesterday, ok? I was just trying to flex my power, I flexed too hard. It won't happen again." She said soothingly.
It felt off, like she was telling me what I wanted to hear, but still, she was telling me what I wanted to hear, mostly.
"I still don't think I can relax around you." I admitted "I think I'll need time, but we can re-build that trust we had, and it'll be like before in no time, ok?"
She smiled, and sniffed, wiping her eyes with her free hand. "Thanks, I guess that's all I can ask for. I wanted to try a few new things though..."
I locked up and braced myself against her hand with my arms shaking my head "No no no no, please, I can't-"
"Hey, no, hey." She interrupted "Good things. First up, you pick my clothes, or at least, you pick a pocket you're ok with, and I build an outfit around it."
I thought about it. It could be a trap, but it could also be a peace offering... I'd have to test her with it, and I already had an idea as to how.
"Ok, that sounds good" I said
"And next... Tonight at a community center a few cities away, there's a support group for class Bs and their guardians. I found it last night, they meet twice a week. I thought that'd be... good for us. If we leave my second class and head straight there, we can even get dinner on the way."
She thought for a second and shook her head
"Oh... Well, hm. I'm not sure how dinner would work actually..."
"There's a place called Cecarina, it's a chain, they offer compressed foods..." I said, thinking about the article I'd read "If it's a few towns over, there may be one on the way?"
"Ah, ok, yeah, we- we can try it!" She said, nodding encouragingly. "So... I think we can do this, I think we'll be ok..."
"It's worth a shot..." I said. It didn't feel like it was worth anything, but I would much prefer to be around a Marissa who's trying to win me back than one who thinks I'm a lost cause.
"Thank you so much, Amber." she picked me up and opened her closet. "Let's figure out what we're going to wear, ok?"
~~~
I tugged at the kimono to loosen it a bit and lay against Marissa's stomach as she walked, swinging and bouncing slightly as she headed to class. Her compromise for wearing what I picked was that she got to pick what I wore, and I needed to be on the table in the classroom the whole time to show off my outfit. I didn't mind too much, the kimono was light but warm, and the soft leggings I had on under it reminded me of long underwear. The stupid band around my waist though didn't want to stay flat, and kept bending, making it too tight on my stomach. Nothing as bad as yesterday, but still annoying.
"Oh, um... Are you feeling ok, Marissa?" I heard a familiar voice say, Tracy maybe?
"I don't think I've ever seen you in a hoodie before, M." Another voice said. It sounded like Quince, another of Marissa's hangers on.
"I look good in anything, I can wear what I want." snapped Marissa from above me.
"No, no! I'm so sorry, I wasn't saying- you look great, comfortable and cute!" Tracy said, quickly correcting herself.
"I wear hoodies all the time, I just didn't know you had one is all." Quince said, her voice still slightly judgy
What absolute bitches... Let a girl wear a hoodie now and then, for fuck's sake. Then again, this reaction was exactly why I had picked out the hoodie in the first place. That and it was the biggest, softest pocket in anything she owned.
"I got it during orientation, everyone got one. You two got one." Marissa said grumpily. "It's within dress code, I'm wearing real pants, not leggings after all."
"Yeah, of course..." Tracy said "Like I said, you look cute. So... um, is... your new toy here too?"
Marissa's hand plunged into my pocket and I quickly fixed the loosened kimono as she drug me out. I sat on her palm on my knees and tried to look neutral, she was being nice for now, I should be nice too.
"Ohhhh..." gushed Quince, leaning in to see me better "She's so, so cute! I can't believe it's the Rat, she could never be this... adorable!"
"I'm not calling her that anymore." corrected Marissa. "I don't like thinking about keeping a rat in my pocket, that's unsanitary. I just call her Amber now, so it's not as gross."
"Amber?" Quince said, looking up "Did you pick that out for her?"
"Uh, I think that's her real name, Quince." Tracy said politely, watching me
"Yeah, I'm no good with names, I just used her old one." Marissa said, nodding. "I have a few minutes before class, do either of you want to hold her?"
"Oh gosh, no..." Tracy said "My dad works with them at his job, and the things he's said, I'd prefer not to..."
"What kind of things?" Quince asked
"He- he said it can be contagious" Tracy said, looking around nervously.
"Only if you come in physical contact with us within a few minutes of compression" I said "I heard about that too, I'm way past that point by now."
Tracy flinched at me talking, and Quince cooed and reached out with a finger like she was going to poke me. I didn't want to be held by Tracy again, last time I'd felt like she was going to drop me, but I didn't want her ignorance to make other people ignorant too. Call it class pride, or something.
"She's not fucking contagious," Marissa snapped "if she was I'd be an inch tall- look, do either one of you want to hold her? She's going back away if not."
"Oh I would love to..." Quince said "I want one of them so, so bad, I already have a down payment at the boutique for the next one that comes in."
That seemed like cheating, what if it was someone who's family wanted to get them back? Or someone who she didn't want? I grimaced at the thought as Marissa handed me over to her. Like always, the smell of her hand stood out to me. It was a vaguely floral scent, with... pretzels? Maybe? Some kind of carb at least. She made kissy noises and rubbed my face with her finger, bringing me close enough to her face to smell her breath. Yup, that was pretzels. I pushed her finger away and cleared my throat.
"So, Quince, you mentioned a down payment, that means you've taken the class and stuff?" I asked her
"Awww, of course!~ She said smiling at me, doing that same, horrible baby voice people kept doing to me. "I worked real hard after I saw that cute cute picture of you last week!"
"The one in the dress?" I asked "Marissa said she'd post it, I didn't hear if anyone liked it though."
"Oh, they liked it." Marissa said "You got lots of attention, trust me."
"Attention is right..." Tracy murmured
"I liked the second picture too, you know, the one from yesterday?" Quince said. "I loved how helpless and silly you looked!"
I winced. I'd really, really hoped that hadn't gone up... "That was... Not fun, I didn't like that..."
"Yeah, it didn't work out, too dangerous, as cute as it was." Marissa said dismissively, like it hadn't almost killed me.
"Aw, that's too bad... I'd have liked to carry mine around like that when I get them, all flat..." Quince said, pouting.
"You should talk to your class B to make sure they're ok with you doing anything like that..." I reminded her
"I'm super persuasive, I'm sure they won't mind." She said, patting my head "Besides, I have an even cuter idea for how to carry them around!"
"Oh?" Tracy said "Like, a kind of accessory or something?"
"I really liked the bottle I have, with the heating and air built in? It's very fashionable." Marissa offered.
"No no, I'm going to do something I've been talking about for years..." Quince said "I'm gonna lose the double afro puffs, and just have a regular afro! And then I'll be able to keep them on my head, I'll make a hole in the front, and they can just ride on top of me! I'm thinking I can even decorate it with flowers and stuff!"
"I don't know, Quince..." Tracy said "I don't think hair is strong enough to hold them in place, they'll fall out, and plus, you've had afro puffs since we were kids, it's like, part of you."
"It sounds gross to be like, in someone's hair, too." I pointed out "I'd be grossed out, at least. Hair is gross."
"I'll remember that..." Marissa said, taking me back from Quince. I shuddered, thinking of the hair related torture she could be planning.
"Anyway, I've got to get to class..." Marissa said "But... why don't the two of you come over Friday for a sleepover? I had one last week with Henri, so she could see Amber, and I was missing how fun ours used to be."
"Who's Henry?" Quince asked "Does Amber have a brother?"
"No, uhh, Henri-etta?" Marissa said, unsure. "I think. Bludsauger."
"Why are you calling her Henri?" Tracy asked "Are you two friends?"
"No, she's like, my servant, kinda." Marissa said, bragging. "I just wanted to be more professional towards her."
"Oooh, servant?" Quince said wiggling her eyebrows "I wanna play with her too, invite her over Friday?"
Marissa blanched for a split second, and put on a sneer. "Psh, we'll see. She's a psycho, but maybe."
"Well... I'll see you two there if I don't see you before then!" Tracy said, waving and walking towards her class.
"Yeah, I'm SO looking forward to getting to spend time with lil Amber!~" Quince said, patting me on the head one more time. "Byeee!"
As they walked away, I looked up at Marissa, concerned.
"Another sleepover?"
She rolled her eyes. "You said you liked it, whatever. We won't do the punishments and stuff, it'll be like, movies and board games or something, fuck I don't know. You said you had fun, I want you to have fun."
I nodded. I didn't know how 'fun' it'd be to hang out with those two... Tracy was a gossipy bitch with no backbone, and Quince was... usually a lot meaner than today, I guess she really liked class Bs? It may not be so bad. That said...
"And... Henri?" I asked "She did threaten to kill you, and smashed up your locker, I don't know if it's safe for her to be around me..."
Marissa growled. "I know, right? Ugh, I shouldn't have fucking mentioned her, I'm better than that... I don't want to lose face to those two peons though, I just- ugh..."
"Maybe we could say she's busy?" I suggested.
"No, that's obvious... Maybe... Hm..." Marissa said, thinking as we walked to her classroom. "I think I have an idea, but it'll be risky. Do you trust Henri enough to behave in a group setting if she thinks you're in potential danger?"
My eyes widened. "Danger? Oh, uhhh"
"Not real danger. Just... you know that ankle bracelet of yours?"
I looked down at the annoying, chunky reminder I was a class B. "...yeah, I do."
"Ok, I'm going to tell her I wired the tracker in it to explode if you get too far from my phone, taking your leg and most of you with it."
I looked at her, shocked. "She's just going to steal your phone..."
Marissa nodded, and slowed down, digging in her purse for something.
"Right, ok, so what if..."
She pulled out a small knife and drug it on her wrist, making a line of blood. I shrieked and backed up against her fingers, watching the blood seep out slowly. She unwrapped a bandage out of her purse with her teeth and slapped it over the cut, and another to hide the blood.
"...I had a tracker inside me, that works even if I'm dead? Then she can't take you without taking my whole arm with her, right?"
I look between her and her arm. She hadn't even flinched, what was wrong with this lady? I rubbed my own arm in sympathy and shook my head. If she'd gone this far already, we may as well give it a shot.
"Ok, ok yeah, we can try it. If she saws off your arm though, it's on you." I said.
Marissa grinned and tossed the trash from the bandages in the can next to the classroom door. "Perfect, now, let's go manipulate the fuck out of her."
She stepped inside and walked straight to where Henri was sitting, flopping down in the seat next to her and putting me on the table in front of her. She leaned over and smiled smugly, staring into Henri's scared and confused face.
"Sup, bitch? Wanna go to another fucking sleepover?"
~~~