This is Dekker Psychiatric Hospital. Here, the socially rejected dwell in despair. Alas, not all are here because of the heart of justice.

Meet Nicole McIntyre. She's a small girl...but otherwise physically mature. She's all tangled up in pubescence. And every now and then, she's just as tangled up in a strait jacket.

Tonight, alas, she sits in her room. The door is locked...on the outside. She should be thankful there isn't a guard posted outside her door. Alas, her mind's not on that. In fact, her mind is lost. She doesn't know what she thinks or knows anymore.

Her hair is blonde, and cropped. There are many in this state who would love to abuse her sexually; that might very well include some of the doctors.

In one of her walls, there's a mouse hole. The staff have been meaning to fix that...but it seems their egos need more maintenance. Nicole can't imagine why. They've all got the egos of fucking mercs.

Her door unlocks, and swings open. An orderly brings her next meal. It isn't much...but it'll keep her alive.

He leaves. The door locks behind him.

Sitting before her meal, Nicole closes her eyes. Moments pass. It gets cold. She shivers. She opens her eyes.

Her meal is gone. It's been replaced by a goblet. Inside, the liquid glows yellow.

Nicole squints, and examines the goblet. She shrugs, and drinks what's inside. It's not bad...but her bones start aching, from the moment it starts going down.

She leaves the goblet on the table, turned over. She's too sore, now. A jolt of pain, from inside her, jabs her in the mind. She belches, and passes out on her bed.

Throughout the hospital, the lights go out. Only a green ring of light surrounds all the halls.

In Nicole's room, the A/C kicks on. Or rather, the heat does. Outside, this place doesn't exactly have a tropical climate.

Warming wind gushes through the vents. If Nicole had her way, they'd stay on all night every night. Alas, the hospital's finances wouldn't take that very well...even if the state does pay this institution to exist.

On the floor, at the base of Nicole's bed, a pair of short shorts lie. They look just like the ones she had on before.

There's a lump in them. It comes to life. It crawls out of one of the thighs...

It's Nicole. She's now a thousand times smaller than before. Either that, or everything else is a thousand times bigger...

Somehow, she's still in white lingerie. It's revealing. At least she has a flat chest. Even so, she keeps her very fragile bra on.

Now, Nicole's pretty sure she's crazy. She thinks she's finally convinced that the state should keep her locked up in here, with the prejudice of seventy locks, and seven keys for each one...with six of those keys buried somewhere on each inhabitable continent. (Europe and Asia would be separate continents, in that insulting as it is to draw an Ural schism through the white race.)

She senses the mouse hole. For some reason, she runs to it. She knows she shouldn't. It probably won't help her escape, anyway...

She follows it, wherever it doesn't resist her. It resists her a lot. Maybe it's just her, but... This goes on for quite a while.

It takes her to the vent ducts. Before she can acknowledge that, though, she's airborne. She bounces off the ducts' metal walls. She prefers to land on her ass. Alas, if only the air had that much control over itself...

Outside, a pipe sticks out of a wall. It blows excess air from the block...

Soon, it expels Nicole, too. For a moment, anyone near could hear the echoes of her screams, all the way to the outtake.

Once out, she falls right into a puddle, and splashes down. Clumsily, she tries to tread water...and goes under again.

Above, the heated air roars. It's got no idea what it's just done...and neither does the orderly responsible for having set its temperature.

Soaked, Nicole dog-paddles to the shore. To her, this puddle is like a small lake.

She crawls ashore. She's got muddy water in her panties. She spews a bit of it, once she's ashore.

She looks around. She's surrounded by the hospital's grounds. This does NOT look like part of the visiting area. In fact, she's pretty sure the front door is just beyond that hedge...

At her size, that hedge might as well by a belt of sequoias. They're Japanese barberries, actually. To her, their fallen berries are like boulders...boulders that leak with sap.

Nicole still doesn't know if she's trying to escape. But she doesn't feel like staying she doesn't.

There are cars parked in this lot. One of them is a Jaguar.

Like a bug, Nicole wanders across the parking lot. To her, the tires of the cars are like huge cliffs. And above them, the bases of the hubcaps are even bigger.

At least she won't step on a piece of gravel, at this size. Good; her feet are are her legs, her midriff, most of her back, all of her arms, and her neck. Her chest is flat...but she's still got muddy water in her bra cups.

And they say that the two cups of a 32A bra are like nano-purses...

The Jaguar is parked with its rear end facing her. It's got a hitch ball. Alas, to Nicole, it's a very long climb up. And she sure can't fly.

She climbs the treads of the back left tire. She thinks she's crazy; she's not thinking about the left/right dichotomy...if it even is a dichotomy...

She finds a secure spot in the wheel well, and passes out. She's still asleep when the driver mounts, takes off, and inadvertently abets her putting an amount of distance between her and the mental hospital that she probably never could, soon enough, on foot.

Hours later, the sun rises over Dekker Psychiatric Hospital. The alarm goes off, once an orderly brings Nicole her breakfast, and she isn't in her room. There are no signs of a breakout, and even fewer of a break-in. The police will soon deduce that, when they get here.

The goblet, that Nicole drank from, is gone. There is only an empty tray, where it was.