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Mr Small

Gosh, I hate my Dad. I hate him with a passion. He is just so… so annoying. He’d shout at me for not taking out the dishes. I mean, what’s the problem with leaving ‘em in there for once? If you take ‘em out, they’ll get dirty, if you don’t, they won’t. Logic. And also, he keeps whining at me to clean my room. I mean, if I try and whine like that he’d give me a good whacking, so I try and tell him off, though that just gets me an even harder whacking. It’s just not fair.

     Once, I got so angry at him, because he’s just told me all of my math’s problems were wrong, when I’d just spent an hour and a half (okay, exaggerating a little, maybe just fifteen minutes) on it, and he’s there, telling me I’m useless and need a tutor. My fists were clenched, teeth gritted, I screwed up my face and tried as hard as I could to give him a mean, steely glare. All I got was:

     “You all right, son? What’s wrong with your face? Oh God, you’re not going to do it? What, right here on the carpet? Look, I thought you were a grown man!”

     That was an insult straight to my face. This time I just stood there with no expression, like trying to creep him out or something, but he just took no notice, and checked his notifications on his phone. This time I went mad. On the inside, obviously. My insides exploded, and my heart started beating faster. Suddenly, I found myself looking up into the humongous, block face of my dad. I thought I’d just fell on the floor or something, and tried to stand up, but, surprisingly, I couldn’t. It turns out I already was standing. Yeah, standing three inches high! I was Mr Small now! I was tiny!

     And Dad was peering round, puzzled.

     “Son? Son? Where are you? You aren’t upset, are you now? Have you hidden somewhere?” And, foolishly enough, he started peering round curtains and under the sofa. As if I could hide that quickly! Well, now I could take as long as I wanted, because he could hardly see me now!

It was night, and it had taken me ages to get upstairs, practically all day, and I was in my humongous bed, when I had a really good idea. I slid off the bed (not as easy as it sounds), walked out of my bedroom, and in front of my sister’s. Her door was closed, but that wasn’t a problem for me. I just turned sideways, and slid easily through the gap between the door and the wall. I felt just like a spy!

     Again, taking ages, I managed to climb onto my sisters bed, and then, carefully, her face.

     I breathed in deeply, “Sophia!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

     Soon, her big, blue eyes flew open, startling me. Then wider, as soon as she realized who it was. She opened her mouth –

     “Don’t scream, Sophia!” I screamed myself, waving my arms about.

     “What on earth––” she started.

     “Hey, not so loud!” I shouted.

     “What do you want?”

     “Well, firstly, I need a plan for––”

     “Speak up louder, I can’t hear you. You sound just like a mouse.”

     I glared at her. “Well, then I’ll speak into your ear, Miss Princess.”

     She smirked. “It’s about time I was appreciated for who I truly was.”

     I ignored her and whispered my masterpiece plan to her, all the while she nodded and smiled.

     This was going to be great!