In honor of Little Trip.
So a short time before Little Trip passed away he and I had been talking in PMs and joking around about his karma on the board being down voted. I wrote him a short story with him as the main character to make him laugh about it, telling him that there were also upsides to losing karma.
Sadly he passed away before he ever read the story.
With Nico’s permission I am posting it here. It was just meant to be a funny little thing to make him smile.
This is my own little tribute to him. I thought he was a great and talented writer and also clearly a fun and kind person to talk too. I very much regret not reaching out to him and getting to know him sooner.
My hope is this would have made him happy. So here we go, in his honor :)
Bursting through the door of his bedroom, Joey tried to catch his breath. His pulse was racing; his heart feeling like it would beat right out of his chest. He’d been running for a solid 3 blocks and it’s only now that he stands alone in his room that he’s able to catch his breath. This couldn’t be happening... it wasn’t possible!
It had started out innocently enough. He’d walked to the store, just to grab a few things for dinner. It had been such a nice day... such a normal day. He was walking past the butcher’s section when someone came crashing into him as he eyed a steak. It was so sudden, so brief that be barely saw who’d done it. A somewhat tall figure in a hoodie. He thought it was a man, but there was no way to say for sure. He tried to say something, but the person moved away so quickly he never had a chance.
"Hey, watch where you’re g..." And just like that the person was gone down the frozen aisle and out of sight.
Shaking his head in annoyance he turned to continue on to get the meat when he saw a piece of paper sticking out of his right jean pocket. Had the person tried to lift his wallet? He quickly felt his pocket and found it still there. Pulling the paper out he unfolded it and looked with some small surprise. Written in very neat printed letters was simply: ’Karma is not the only thing you’ll lose, Joey.’
"What the fuck." He spun around and moved quickly to the frozen food aisle... but no one was there. He walked down to the end of it and quickly looked left and right. No one. Was this some kind of a joke? Was one of his friends messing with him?
Whatever the joke was supposed to be it just didn’t seem very funny at the moment. The very short interaction gave him a bit of a shiver, but at the same time he found himself feeling warm. He brought his hand up to feel his forehead and he was sweating, which felt wrong considering the chill of the freezers around him.
The chill came again and he held his arm out to see the goose bumps on it. They were not the only thing that caught his eye though. Did the hair on his arm seem... Thinner? Lighter? More alarming though was his hand.
"What the fuck!" He said for the second time in as many moments. This morning the knife had slipped while he was cutting a bagel and he’d cut the top of his hand. It wasn’t very deep, but enough to draw blood and leave one hell of an uncomfortable cut. Only now, it was entirely healed. No, not just healed, but gone. No scar, no nothing. It didn’t make sense. He had just looked at it before entering the store minutes ago. He was even going to buy band aids because he was out and the cut was just left uncovered. This wasn’t possible.
Looking down at the note in his hand he tried to focus on it over the pounding in his head, the flushing in his face and the chills throughout his body. Even though he knew it couldn’t be, he knew what was happening.
He was getting younger.
The realization seemed so crystal clear, so obvious to him. For anyone else it would have seemed impossible, but this was a subject he was intimately familiar with. This was dreams he’d had... stories he’d written... fantasizes he’d vividly imagined while he clutched his cock and beat off. It was all of those things, but until this very moment it had always been pretend. Somehow though he knew this was real. And it was happening again.
"Ughhh... I’ve got to get home, have to taLk to SomEOne!" His hand jerked up to his throat. His voice cracked as he spoke, and not just the somewhat embarrassing fluctuation that’s normal with puberty. At first he sounded like an adult, then suddenly a little kid. He didn’t even sound like a teenager.
"What’s going on?!" This time there was no cracking... but only because he had the voice of a kindergartener. In mere seconds he’d been reduced from sounding like an adult to having a voice that would be better suited to telling his mommy he’d pissed his pants!
Franticly he looked at his reflection in the glass of the freezer case and... He looked like an adult. Well, maybe just slightly younger, but certainly not a little boy. Was he just imagining things? "Testing... hello?" He sounded ridiculous, like a little boy speaking shyly into a microphone. What was going on?!
Looking down at the note one last time he traced his finger slowly over the letters on the page. Karma is not the only thing you’ll lose. And it had his name. He was being targeted. He started to shove it into his pocket when he paused, and flipped it over. Written on the other side in the same neat handwriting was his home address and ’Better get home soon.’
Running as fast as he could he made a break back for his home, back where he felt that maybe he could be safe from this, or at least figure out what to do about it. He tried not to talk or grunt or anything as he moved, as even the sounds of his exertion sounded small and young, like a toddler losing a race to his big brother. It was about half way home when he started to stumble. He thought he’d tripped on the sidewalk at first, but looking down he could see that the bottom of his pants legs were getting tangled up in his shoes. He was getting shorter. His t-shirt was short sleeved, but looking at it, and pausing for a moment to evaluate himself, he could feel it getting bigger as well.
He looked around franticly, for a window, a puddle of water, anything! He bent down in front of an empty car’s side mirror and looked in horror. He looked like a teenager.. And not a mature one. A freshman in high school... an 8th grader at the most. He wasn’t just shorter, but looking down at his arms and pulling up his shirt to look at his stomach it seemed less defined and more childish. All those years... all the hard won muscle, and now it was gone.
"My tummy looks all soft." His hand jerked up to his mouth. Why had he said that? He tried again. "My st...s... tummy. My tummy looks... My tum tum wooks awl soff."
If he’d been scared before, now he was terrified. He knew the word. He knew the big boy word for his tum tum. He could think of it in his head. But when he tried to say it, only little boy words came out! He looked like a teenager, felt like a helpless kid, sounded like a 5 year old and was using the words of a toddler. Once again he took off as fast as he could.
As he reached his front door he struggled with his keys, trying to find them in what felt like a cavernously deep pocket now. As he pulled it out he struggled to keep his hand steady enough to put it in the lock and turn it. When he did he ran inside, slammed the door and bolted into his room. He burst through the door and stared into the full length mirror against the wall.
Could he be any older than 11 now? 12 at the absolute oldest? He brought his smaller hand up his face and touched it. No stubble, no nothing. It was not just shaved. Like his cut it seemed more than that... like the hair had never been there. Was this going to stop? What would happen if it didn’t? Starting to panic he wondered how this could get any worse.
And then it did.
The feeling was so foreign to him, so distant that at first he could not place it. His body just felt weird... wrong... and by the time he realized what it was there was nothing he could do. "No no no no noooooooo!" A hot, damp stain spread out from the front of his pants and he realized now what he’d felt was his ability to hold his potty poofing away like a wisp of smoke. For a moment he felt like he had to go, worse than he ever had in his life in fact, and then he was just peeing. Running to the bathroom was out of the question. It was too far along for that. Frantically he yanked his pants down and grabbed for his penis to pinch it off.
His hand met only empty space where it should have been sticking out. In its place was a pathetic pre-teen piece of meat, something to be ashamed of even if he’d actually been 10, which is what his body seemed to be at the moment. He was helplessly peeing, and now all over the floor and his pants he’d slipped out of. As he pinched himself like a little boy he felt a tug... and right in front of his eyes, while he was still peeing, it was shrinking away even more.
"Nooooooooooooooo! Nwot my pwee pwee! I wann bwig bwoy pwee pwee. I WANNA BWIG BWOY PWEE PWEE!"
Somewhere deep inside of him he knew the right word, but it would not come to him. He could remember all the times he’d jerked off his COCK, all the times he’d used his DICK to feel pleasure, all the times he and Nico had been intimate and found each other stroking off their MANHOODS. It was none of those things now. As it shrank down both in length and girth all those words seemed silly now. It was nothing more than a pee-pee, a tinkler, a toddlerhood. By the time he was able to stop peeing it wasn’t even that. The little thing in between his legs, along with his shrunken balls was all but unrecognizable. It was a half inch long baby penis and it was dribbling the last of his pee down its miniscule shaft and under his now undescended testicles.
He dropped down to the floor in shock, in horror. Staring back at him in the mirror across the room was a boy no longer in the double digits. 8 years old maybe... no... 7? 6? The changes had robbed him of his voice, his words, his precious big boy pee-pee and now it seemed like in no time at all he would not even have enough of his age to be able to walk. Was this going to stop? What was causing it? What could he do?!
As the thoughts rushed through his head he became aware of two things at once. First, despite its size, his pee-pee cruelly had never felt so sensitive or excited since he was a teenager. All 1/2 an inch of it was rock hard and throbbing... and secondly, he had to get to his computer. He remembered the note, the Karma, and that could only mean one thing.
Getting onto his feet he started for the computer and whipped towards the mirror when he heard a bark. Looking back at him was not only a blond haired, blue eyed little toddler, but he could see Kibbles standing in the doorway, no doubt wondering who this intruder was. Joey tried to ignore his dog for now and ran for the computer. He climbed up on the chair with some struggle, now only 4 years old or so. He shook the mouse to wake it up, opened the browser and clicked on the ARarchive. He went to the message board and frantically looked at his last message, at his Karma.
It was -32. He gulped as he felt his perspective get even smaller.
He refreshed the page again. -33.
With a chubby, uncoordinated little hand he dragged the mouse to the green thumbs up. Or at least where it should be. You can’t give yourself Karma he realized with horror.
He refreshed the page again. -34. This time the shrinking was very noticeable. Starting to sob, tears running down his angelic face he signed out and struggling to type as best he could with his tiny fingers he signed into Nico’s account. He went back to his latest post and clicked on the green thumbs up.
’You can modify only one person’s karma every 6 hours.’
Nico had already up voted him today... recently.
He broke down in hysterical sobs. As hot, salty tears poured down his face he banged on the keyboard and the page refreshed.
Nico stepped into his home slowly, cautiously. Why had the door been left wide open? "Hello? Joey? Are you here?"
Silence... and then Kibbles started barking from the bedroom. He stepped inside, closed the door and walked slowly towards the room, feeling a sense of unease. The barking was only getting louder and was soon joined by another, more surprising sound, the crying of a baby. Running quickly into the room Nico was shocked to see a small, naked infant on the floor, fists balled up, face red, tears streaming down his face. He crossed the space across the room as fast as he could and gently lifted the little baby up into his arms.
"Where did you come from? What’s going on?" As he asked the question he saw Joey’s clothes on the floor by Kibbles, the discarded shirt and stained pants. The room smelled like pee. The baby seemed momentarily calmed after being picked up, then let out a gurgle and did nothing to help the smell in the room by shooting a sharp stream of piss from his practically shaftless penis. Nico got hit but moved him aside and he watched as the pee shot and landed near a piece of paper folded up on the floor. Walking over to it, baby in one hand, he knelt down and lifted it up. He slowly unfolded it and looked at the strange message written in very neat block letters across it. The words gave him a chill.
And then he started to sweat.