August 15, 2016 by Lyn
You can’t see much in front of you as you head towards the whimpering, but someone might be in trouble, and you can’t bear to think of someone littler than yourself – well, metaphorically speaking, at least – scared and alone in the dark.
The whimpers get a little louder as you get closer, and you lower your crowbar, trying to make it look less threatening, and walk carefully, trying to make out shapes in the dim, flickering light. Still, you almost step on her before you see her – and it’s her terrified yelp that brings your attention.
“Don’t hurt me,” she pleads. You have to squint to see her – she’s hidden herself pretty well in a nook in the wall, only her feet sticking out; she’s crouched, making herself as small as possible. If it weren’t for the whimpering, it would be a pretty good plan.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” you tell her, squatting down to get a better look at her. She’s tiny, maybe even smaller than you are, which you weren’t sure was humanly possible… not human, Caity, remember?… a perfect little blonde doll of a girl, making small scared noises.
“I’m so scared,” she whimpers.
“It’s all right,” you tell her. “It’ll be okay. Where do you live?” She points with a shaky arm further down the hall.