Turned Upside Down

Chapter 3

Evan tried to shake off the heavy feeling that had settled in his chest, convincing himself that some mindless distraction would help. He switched on his computer, clicking through his games list before settling on an online co-op shooter he often played with his best friend, Mason. He was relieved to see Mason online, and after a quick message, they were on a voice call, loading into a match together.

As the game launched, Evan focused on the familiar sounds of virtual gunfire and explosions, the flicker of graphics washing over his face. Mason's deep voice crackled through his headset, steady and full of energy, a constant presence in Evan's ear.

"Dude, where are you? They're on your right! Focus up!" Mason shouted, laughing as Evan missed a shot.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," Evan muttered, forcing a grin. He could feel the tension slipping from his shoulders as they played, the familiarity of the game providing a comforting rhythm that almost lulled him into forgetting about everything.

But just as they were halfway through the fifth or sixth match, a familiar warmth ignited in his chest—a faint ember that rapidly grew into a blazing heat. His heart raced, and his fingers, resting on the keyboard and mouse, started to tingle with that all-too-familiar numbness. Panic flooded through him like a cold chill.

"Hey... um... hang on a second, I—" he stammered, pulling his hands back from the keyboard as he clutched his chest, the warmth spreading rapidly, intensifying until his whole body seemed to pulse with heat.

"What's wrong, man? You okay?" Mason's voice came through the headset, sounding distant and muffled as the warmth in Evan's chest flared, becoming an almost unbearable pressure.

"I...um...yeah...maybe..." Evan stammered out slowly, almost slurring the words, but he could barely hear his own voice over the roar of his heartbeat in his ears. The room blurred, and he gasped as he leaned forward onto the desk to brace himself, the floor beneath his feet slipping away—or rather, he felt himself shrinking downward, his surroundings ballooning in size. The desk loomed wider and wider around him until he was once again just five inches tall, stranded on his desk like an astronaut in a massive, alien landscape.

Evan was overwhelmed with fear as he looked around, his mind scrambling to comprehend what had just happened. His mouse sat next to him like an oddly shaped boulder, his keyboard stretched out before him like an massive plain, each key rising above him like a huge, glowing rock. He could see the faint glow of his computer screen illuminating the edges of his desk, but it felt miles away, unreachable.

"Evan?" Mason's voice crackled through the headset again, but to Evan, the voice sounded booming and distant, like a giant's shout in a far-off canyon.

He flinched, glancing toward his headset with wide frantic eyes, which was now larger than he was, wondering if he should try shouting for help. But what would he even say? Hey, Mason, I'm... I'm only five inches tall on my desk. The thought was as absurd as it was terrifying, and he doubted Mason would believe him even if he could hear him.

"Did you fall asleep or something?" Mason's voice was now laced with annoyance. After a few moments of silence, he sighed. "Guess I'll just call you tomorrow then. Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty."

With a click, the call ended, leaving Evan alone in the vast, silent landscape of his desk.

He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering despite the warmth that lingered in his chest, now fading to a dull ache. What is happening to me? He thought, horror creeping in. He looked around at the massive expanse of his desk, the glow of his computer screen the only source of light in the dim room. Every familiar item had transformed into a towering monument; his travel sized coffee mug seemed to loom like a ceramic skyscraper, and his pens were scattered around him like oversized logs.

Trying to stay calm, Evan took a shaky step forward, feeling the cool wood of the desk beneath his socked feet. He glanced toward the edge, a sheer drop-off that led to the floor, which felt impossibly far below. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and the sense of vulnerability gnawed at him.

He paced in circles, helplessly scanning the vast landscape of his desk, wracking his mind for anything he could do to trigger the change back to his normal size. But the minutes dragged by in silence, stretching into an hour, then two, and still, he was stranded, trapped on his own desk like a tiny prisoner.

As the night wore on, fatigue seeped into his bones, and he sank down, pressing his back against the base of his computer monitor for warmth. The surreal silence of the apartment weighed heavily on him, pressing in like a suffocating fog. Every tiny noise in the room—a creak from the floorboards, the faint hum of the refrigerator—felt amplified, each sound reminding him how small and alone he was in the cavernous darkness of his apartment.

At some point, Evan drifted in and out of sleep, too exhausted and too scared to keep his eyes open any longer. He lost track of time, sinking deeper into an uneasy slumber, the events of the night blending into his dreams, a twisted maze of shrinking and towering objects.

When he finally stirred awake, a faint light was filtering in from the window. Dawn had arrived, casting a dim, golden glow over his desk. He blinked, his body aching from the uncomfortable position he'd fallen asleep in, his mind foggy and disoriented.

And then, without warning, he felt the warmth returning to his chest, softer this time, spreading through his body like a gentle sunrise. His limbs tingled, and he watched in awe as his surroundings began to shift, shrinking back down to their normal size. Moving quickly, she ran toward the edge of the desk. He felt himself expanding, his body stretching out, until suddenly he was back to his regular height, standing on his own two feet in his now-normal-sized apartment.

He looked around, his mind struggling to process the return to normalcy. The room was still, bathed in the pale morning light, as if nothing had happened. But Evan knew otherwise. He could still feel the faint warmth in his chest, a lingering reminder of the night he'd just endured.

With shaky hands, he sat down in his chair, staring blankly at the wall as the sun rose higher, casting long shadows across the room. He felt a mix of relief, exhaustion, and a growing sense of dread. Because now, he couldn't deny it—this wasn't a dream, wasn't a trick of his mind.

Something was happening to him, something he didn't understand. And he was no closer to figuring it out than he had been the night before. The thought settled heavily in his mind, a quiet fear that gnawed at him as he sat alone in his apartment, waiting to begin the day.