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MidReal Story
The Giant's Bride
Scenario:Kevin is a dwarf at 3ft tall. He has a new job at an elementary school as a message runner. Today he has to give a message to Ms. Deese. She is a 6ft 3 tall teacher who looks like a giantess to Kevin.
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Kevin
He is a 3ft tall dwarf working as a message runner at an elementary school. He is brave, humorous, and resilient. Despite his small stature, Kevin is determined to perform his duties and make his large colleagues laugh. He struggles with selfesteem but finds acceptance and humor in his work. Kevin's day involves delivering messages to tall teachers like Ms. Deese, who pokes fun at him but treats him kindly. His job brings him joy and a sense of belonging.
Ms. Deese
She is a tall teacher at the elementary school where Kevin works. She is playful, understanding, and supportive. Ms. Deese often jokes with Kevin about his height, calling him "Shorty" and expressing amusement at his presence in the hallways. Despite her teasing, she relies on Kevin to deliver important messages, which she never sends to the tall janitor. Her friendly banter with Kevin shows her kind nature and ability to make others laugh.
I am a dwarf.
I am only 3ft tall and I know what you're thinking, how did I get a job at an elementary school?
Well let me tell you it wasn't easy.
I had to fight tooth and nail just to get an interview.
But I am Kevin, and I am different.
I don't let my height get in the way of my dreams.
So after many rejections, I finally got a job as a message runner at Springdale Elementary School.
My job is to run back and forth between the offices and classrooms delivering messages.
It's not a hard job, but it can be scary at times.
You see, most of the teachers here are giants.
I mean, they're normal height, between 5'8 and 6'5, but to me they're giants.
Sometimes they don't even notice me standing next to them or behind them.
Sometimes I have to jump up and down just to get their attention.
But I've learned to make people laugh, and that's my secret weapon.
I push open the heavy classroom door, my footsteps echoing in the empty room.
Ms. Deese stands at the whiteboard, her back turned to me, writing math equations with squeaking markers.
Her head nearly touches the top of the board as she works.
I clutch the message in my hand, walking between the rows of empty desks that tower over my shoulders.
Clearing my throat doesn't get her attention.
I tap the side of her leg, causing her to startle and drop her marker.
She looks down, way down, and spots me.
"Oh, it's you, Kevin," she says, bending down to pick up the marker.
"Ms. Deese, I have a message from Principal Carter," I reply, handing her the note.
She takes it with a curious glance and murmurs, "I hope it's not about the budget cuts again."
I watch her unfold the note with her long fingers, her eyes scanning the paper held high above my head.
She clears her throat and turns to face the class, who had been whispering about my small presence.
"Well, what do we have here?" she says, her voice echoing through the room.
The students lean forward in their oversized chairs, curious about the sudden interruption.
Ms. Deese begins reading from the note, "Tomorrow will be a surprise field day celebration. Please wear comfortable clothing and shoes suitable for outdoor activities."
The class erupts in excited chatter, while I calculate how many more messages I'll need to deliver about this event.
I start to inch away, but Ms. Deese gently catches my shoulder.
I look up at the stack of papers she holds above me, stretching my arm as high as it can go.
She slowly lowers her giant hand until I can grasp the corner of the permission slips.
They flutter down from her hand to mine, threatening to spill onto the floor before I catch them.
"Could you pass these out?" she asks with a smile.
I nod and weave between the giant desks, handing out papers while dodging backpacks and legs that look like tree trunks from my perspective.
Some students giggle when I have to stand on tiptoes to reach their desks, but I keep my focus on the task.
As I distribute half the stack, I glance at the clock on the wall, realizing I'm falling behind on my message route.
While distributing the last few permission slips, I notice something odd on the back of one of them.
It's tiny handwriting that catches my eye.
I pause between two desks, squinting at the paper while a student's leg swings dangerously close to my head.
The scrawled message is hard to read in the classroom's fluorescent lighting.
I'm about to examine it closer when Ms. Deese calls out, "Kevin, are you done passing out those forms?"
"Yes maam! Is there anything else I could help you with?"
I stand at attention near Ms. Deese's desk, my neck craning up to meet her eyes.
She towers over me, her head almost touching the fluorescent lights above.
The permission slip with the strange writing crinkles in my pocket, but I push my curiosity aside to focus on her response.
She taps her chin thoughtfully, and I wait for her reply.
Behind me, students shuffle papers and whisper, their movements creating gusts of air that I feel at my height.
When she shakes her head no, I turn to leave, but my shoe catches on a backpack strap.
I stumble forward, catching myself just in time, and as I regain my balance, I realize the note in my pocket might be more important than I thought.
I lean against the wall outside Ms. Deese's classroom, pulling the crumpled permission slip from my pocket.
The hallway stretches out in both directions, a massive expanse of lockers and classroom doors.
Only a few students pass by, their footsteps echoing down the corridors.
Squinting at the tiny handwriting, I can make out only the first four words in the dim hallway lighting.
A student rushes past, nearly knocking me over, and I quickly stuff the note back into my pocket.
Principal Carter will be expecting updates on the field day message deliveries, but curiosity gnaws at me.
"Kevin, what's that you've got there?" a familiar voice asks, startling me.
I turn to see Jamie, my best friend, peering curiously at the slip in my hand.
"It's nothing," I reply hastily, but Jamie's eyes narrow with suspicion.
I pull the note from my pocket again, determined to finally read it in the quiet hallway.
Jamie leans closer, trying to peek at the paper despite my attempts to angle it away.
The tiny handwriting becomes clearer: "Help me escape from..."
Before I can finish reading, a massive shadow falls over us.
I quickly crumple the note in my fist as Ms. Deese's towering figure emerges from her classroom doorway.
Jamie steps back, bumping into the wall.
Looking up at Ms. Deese's face so far above me, I notice her usual smile is gone.