By Dana, age 11, Calif.
The weirdest thing I had ever seen stared up at me. And I mean stared...like, really stared...with two eyes. Make that two tiny eyes--the eyes of a tiny person.
"Is this for real?" I mumbled, examining the microscopic little girl who looked about my age.
She was no taller than my pinky with tiny--or big in her case--blue eyes, blond hair, and a thin frame. She looked like the smallest Barbie doll ever created.
"Look," said a tiny voice.
I jumped and fumbled, almost dropping the box. That's when I realized it was the tiny person speaking.
"If I'm going to be living with you, could you at least not study me like a lab rat?"
Wow. Tiny girl, big attitude. Oh, well. I was too fascinated to notice. Could this really be happening to
me?
"Um, sorry," I practically whispered. "Why don't we go inside?"
"Anything to get out of this dumb box," she said, flipping her hair with an itty-bitty hand.
I whizzed past the TV, where
iCarly was still on. I didn't care about that anymore. I had a teensy person and a lot of questions to ask her!
Up in my room, I let her out of the box with shaking hands and dropped her into a small wicker basket on my desk.
"
More captivity?" she asked, wrinkling her tiny button nose. "Thanks a lot!"
I rolled my eyes. Whatever, I had to ask her my questions.
"Who are you? What's your name? Why are you so tiny? Are there any more of you? Why were you on my front porch?"
She held up her hand--
hey, was that a French manicure I saw?--to stop my rapid-fire questions.
"Calm down! Calm down! I'll tell you!" she said, taking a dramatic pause and smoothing her tight pink T-shirt. "My name is Mirabelle. I guess I'm tiny to
you because you're so big. Of course there are more of me. How else would I have been born?"
She stopped for a moment. Her tiny lips curled up into a smirk.
"And why was I on your front porch? I don't know. I mean, yesterday, some huge guy in a white coat scooped me right out of third period math class, put me in a box, and dropped me off
here," she finished with a flourish, flipping her hair.
"But there's got to be more. There's got to be," I said. I just knew Mirabelle wasn't telling me the whole truth.
"There might be," Mirabelle smiled. "And I'll tell you sooner or later. But for now, you'll just have to wait and see."
I smiled. I knew Mirabelle and I would get along just fine.
