Charity 13

Whispers of a Former Life: Episode 13

So I realized I posted the text for chapter 14 in 13 and 14. So I’m correcting that now. Yesterday you read chapter 14 with 13’s imagery. So this is actual chapter 13 which I’m posting early because of the mistake. So you won’t have an episode at the regular posting time. I will also post the actual chapter 14 image with chapter 14.  My bad. To many long work days lately. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Charity slept off and on. 

Not deeply, not peacefully, but enough. Her body demanded it, and for once, she listened. She had no choice. Every inch of her, every cell, had been working overtime just to stay alive, just to stabilize after the transformation. She’d fought her way across the carpet, collapsed into the curved shelter of her overturned yoga shoe, and now, hours later, she finally felt the weight of stillness lifting. 

She stretched gently, arms reaching above her head, legs uncoiling with a slow burn of muscle. The insole of the shoe was warm beneath her, textured like memory foam pressed thin from years of use. It smelled faintly of lavender and something more bitter, herself. Not the self she was now, but who she had been. 

With effort, she sat up and peered toward the opening. 

A faint breeze brushed across her face, cool and dry. The world beyond the shoe remained impossibly large, the carpet fibers swaying like tall grass under a hidden wind. But something inside her felt different now. More balanced. More certain. 

She had finished changing. 

The ache in her bones had faded to a steady hum. Her vision had settled, no longer overwhelming her with clarity. Her breath, though quicker and shallower than before, moved smoothly through her chest. Her skin felt electric, alive to every shift in light and sound. 

She was ready. 

Charity pushed herself upright, her small hands gripping the worn curve of the shoe for balance. She ducked beneath the overhang, stepped into the world beyond, and blinked at the brightness that greeted her. 

The carpet, once a texture, was now a landscape. 

She took it slowly at first. One step. Then another. Her feet sank into the fibers with each movement, her legs lifting higher than she was used to just to clear the next strand. It was like wading through waist-high brush, every step a negotiation between effort and balance. But this time, she didn’t stumble. 

Her senses, sharpened now from rest, drifted outward, syncing to the world around her. Her eyes moved constantly, scanning instinctively for motion, shadow, or threat. Her ears filtered the soft hum of the house, the creaks of walls settling, the distant tick of a clock, the whisper of air moving beneath the door. 

It all felt… natural. 

And that was when it hit her. 

For the first time since she’d shrunk, since the fever and the burning and the terror of transformation,  

She realized she was no longer just changing. 

She was a Little. 

Truly. Fully. Permanently. 

The thought stopped her. 

She stood there, ankle-deep in cream-colored carpet, barely halfway between the shoe and the dresser, and felt a quiet crack form somewhere inside her. 

A part of her wanted to cry. To scream. To thrash and rage and tear at the fibers underfoot until her hands bled. 

She didn’t. 

Instead, her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, and she just stood there, letting the silence press around her. 

This is real. 

Her humanity hadn’t vanished. Not all at once. But it had been chipped away, bit by bit, until the girl who had ruled hallways and ridiculed others was gone, and all that was left was someone four inches tall and entirely rewired. 

Inside, she was different. 

She could feel it now with every step. 

Her lungs didn’t pull air the same way. They fluttered faster, more efficiently. Her skin tingled as it helped absorb trace amounts of oxygen, like she was breathing through her pores as much as her nose. Her muscles, compact and springy, were built not for grace but for endurance. Every sense worked double time, compensating for her size with brutal precision. 

And her thoughts… those were different too. 

It wasn’t just about pride anymore. Or anger. It was about survival. About finding help. About not becoming a headline, a collar, a warning. 

She understood now why people said Littles were different. 

It wasn’t just political. Wasn’t just social. 

It was biological. 

They, we, were different. We looked the same at a glance. Same eyes. Same voice. Same thoughts. 

But inside? Everything had been remade to exist in a world that never shrank with us. 

Charity pressed forward. 

The shoe behind her vanished into shadow as she made her slow way toward the door. Each step still required effort, each patch of carpet a minor trial—but her body no longer screamed in protest. Her legs lifted with rhythm. Her arms swung gently at her sides for balance. Her breath, though short, remained steady. 

It was hard. 

But it wasn’t impossible. 

And as she moved, a sliver of something foreign crept into her chest,something small and fragile, like the first star appearing in a cloudy sky. 

Hope. 

She didn’t know what lay beyond the bedroom door. Whether anyone would hear her. Whether she’d make it to the kitchen. Or the stairs. 

But for the first time, she believed she might. 

She let herself feel it. 

Just for a moment. 

And then she kept walking. 

 

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Lethal Ledgend
1 day ago

0) Two Smallaraverse chapters in one day, score.

Don’t feel too bad, long workdays get the best of everyone.

1.1) “Charity slept off and on. Not deeply, not peacefully, but enough. Her body demanded it, and for once, she listened. She had no choice” I guess that’s what happens when you don’t sleep through the precesslike normal people.
1.2) “Every inch of her, … had been working overtime just to stay alive, just to stabilize after the transformation.” All four of them.

2) “It smelled faintly of lavender and something more bitter, herself. Not the self she was now, but who she had been” her old self was a bitter cunt and her scent agrees.

3) “She had finished changing” girls like her do often take an inordinate amount of tieme to change

4) “The ache in her bones had faded to a steady hum. Her vision had settled, no longer overwhelming her with clarity. Her breath, though quicker and shallower than before, moved smoothly through her chest,” that’d feel so much better for her.

5) “She was a Little. Truly. Fully. Permanently. The thought stopped her” that’s a lot to come to terms with, at least she in some ways deserves this.

6) “The girl who had ruled hallways and ridiculed others was gone, and all that was left was someone four inches tall and entirely rewired” She’s only four inches tall? That’s short for a female Little, she’d even have males taller than her.

7) “Her muscles, compact and springy, were built not for grace but for endurance” that’s also true of humans.

8) “She understood now why people said Littles were different. It wasn’t just political. Wasn’t just social. It was biological.” The problems come when people use those biological differences to justify the social and political ones.

9) “something small and fragile, like the first star appearing in a cloudy sky.  Hope.” don’t worry, that’ll get crushed soon enough, lol.

10) “She didn’t know what lay beyond the bedroom door.” That’s where Sara is.

Lethal Ledgend
Reply to  Asukafan2001
5 hours ago

1.1) me too, especially since she just passed out anyway.

1.2 & 6) Damn, I was really looking forward to seeing a shorter female Little.

2) I can see why you’d think that, I kinda do, actually, but I do acknowledge Charity is a worse person then Sara.

4) Just as Sara intended

5) That’s fair, she I’d agree no one actually deserves it.

8) Cheeky.

10) Honestly it’s a miracle she hasn’t gotten frustrated and burst in yet.