Sweet Clementine

Sweet Clementine
By
Edward Hyde



“Do I really have to drink this?” Clementine held the small glass bottle up to the light, the pale green liquid inside glowing faintly as the occasional bubble made its way up the inside of the glass. “It looks really gross!”

“Now stop fussing!” her mum shook her head in annoyance. “You know it’s the only way we can afford this holiday!”

“Seems kinda dumb…” The ten year old blew her blonde fringe out of her face with an irritated huff. “You and Dad are taking it too, right?” She asked with a slightly accusing tone, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “You’re not gonna be travelling first class and shoving me in the baggage locker are you?”

“Of course we’re taking it too, dear.” Her mum replied, sounding a little exasperated as she pulled a fresh crusty loaf out of the bread bin and began to cut thick slices. “But I need to make sure everything’s ready first. Plus trying to get to the airport like that would be quite a hassle. We’ll take ours in the cab.”

“So how come I need to take it now?” Clementine protested. “Why can’t I just take it when you do?”

“It’s your first time.” Her mum reminded her. “And the process can have some minor side effects if you’re not used to it. This way, if it does make you feel a little seasick or unsteady on your feet, you should have got used to it by the time we get on the plane. You don’t want to spend the whole journey throwing up, do you?”

“Don’t wanna go on the stupid holiday at all…” Clementine muttered but she knew there was no point in arguing any further. The bottle, she knew, contained shrinking tonic. Supposedly it was a new type of science but it seemed pretty much like magic to her. Its discovery had opened the doors to a whole new era of economy travel since it could shrink down any human or animal to roughly one twelfth of their normal size, allowing for far more people to fit on a standard aeroplane, bus or train and slashing costs to a fraction of what they had once been.

There were some hotels and resorts that were experimenting with the idea of having heavily discounted areas exclusively for those who opted to remain shrunk for the whole of their holiday but, generally speaking, medical opinion advised against staying in the shunken form for more than twenty four hours and most people drank a restoring tonic to return them to their normal size upon arrival.

The holiday Clementine’s parents were dragging her along on sounded really boring to the ten year old. Lots of walking and looking at really dull art museums. It didn’t even sound like there were any activities for children – even if those tended to be quite babyish, they were at least better and more fun than boring grown-up stuff! Clementine had begged her parents to be allowed to stay home while they went, or to stay with friends while they were away, but they had refused, saying that she was far two young to stay on her own for three weeks and, in their words, they refused to burden anyone else with her for so long!

“Come on now…” Clementine’s mother patted the kitchen counter. “Get up here so I can keep and eye on you and so I don’t trip over or tread on you when you’re small!” Reluctantly, the young girl heaved herself up onto the counter then, under her mother’s watchful eye, unscrewed the cap of the tonic bottle.

“How much do I have to drink?” she asked, looking down distastefully and the bubbling green liquid which was supposed to smell and taste like citrus fruit but smelled more to her like lemon-scented bleach and was certainly a long way from appetising!

“All of it.” Her mum told her firmly, arms folded. “We have our own bottles.”

“Oh…” Clementine took a deep breath then shrugged. “Here goes!” She put the bottle to her lips and sipped cautiously at first. Despite the very industrial smell it did not actually taste too bad at all and she gulped with increasing enthusiasm until, by the time she took the last drop, she was genuinely enjoying it and a little disappointed that it was all gone. “So?” she asked, setting down the bottle and holding out her hands in front of her, searching for any evidence of change. “When do I start to shrink?”

“Should be any moment.” her mum assured her, opening a large jar of mayonnaise. “Try to sit as still as you can, you might feel a little dizzy.” Clementine nodded then noticed a tingling sensation which started in the tips of her fingers and toes then spread quite quickly up her arms and legs. The tingling was just past her knees when a similar sensation manifested in her ears and on the tip of her nose. As it spread inwards, she did indeed begin to feel dizzy and light-headed. Maybe because of this or perhaps because the shrinking was so uniform throughout her body, she did not actually notice that it had begun until her tennis shoes dropped off her feet and landed on the kitchen floor which already seemed a long way away, closely followed by her socks It was not long before she could not see her arms or legs under the vast sea of white t-shirt fabric. At first, it sat on her shoulders but then even they became too narrow and soon she was left sitting nude and red-faced on top of her panties which themselves were resting inside her denim shorts while her collapsed t-shirt spread out for some distance all around her.

“Hey!” she cried out in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest. “How come my clothes didn’t shrink?”

“Well how would that work?” Her mum chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. “Here.” She tore a square of kitchen towel off the roll on the wall, folded it in half and handed it to her red-faced daughter. “You can wear this for now. I’ve got a small dress for you to put on in a minute but let me finish the sandwiches first.” Annoyed at not having been warned and grumbling about how dresses were stupid and she hated them, Clementine rather grudgingly took the offered paper sheet then stood and wrapped it around herself like a bath towel. It was actually quite soft and pleasantly warm and not at all uncomfortable. Once she had covered herself, she walked to the edge of her t-shirt to sit down off the denim of her shorts which, in her miniature condition, was bulky and rough.

Giving her a sideways glance which Clementine could not tell whether it was nervous or suspicious, her mum reached up and opened the cupboard, taking out a small plastic bottle of pills. She unscrewed the lid and rolled one out onto the palm of her hand.

“Here.” She smiled a little anxiously, holding out the translucent yellow pill to her daughter. “You need to eat this now.” Clementine took the tablet which had a squishy texture like a gummy bear and looked at it suspiciously. In her tiny hands it was about the size of a cheeseburger.

“What is it?” she asked, turning it around a little to see if it seemed solid like gummy candy or whether there was liquid inside like those awful codliver oil capsules she had been forced to take when she got sick last year. It looked solid enough, which was something of a relief, but this was the first she had heard of needing to take something else after the tonic!

“It’s a stabiliser.” explained her mum, with a slight edge to her voice as if she was not quite certain of her own explanation. “Makes sure the tonic doesn’t wear off before you take the restorer.”

“But it can’t wear off, can it?” Clementine frowned. “Otherwise how would some people spend weeks shrunk down?”

“Just eat it please, dear.” Her mum walked over to the fridge and took out the packets containing various sandwich fillings and salad. The paper-clad little girl had been worried that, once she was tiny, normal noises would all sound really loud and that her own voice would be too small to make herself heard but, other than her mum looking like a giant and her surroundings making her feel like Jack at the top of the beanstalk, everything seemed quite normal! Somewhat reluctantly and still a little confused as to why it was necessary but supposing it was some sort of precaution to do with her first time shrinking, Clementine bit into the burger-sized pill. It was quite bland, no specific flavour to speak of, but on the other hand it was not unpleasant. Figuring she might as well get it over with, Clementine devoured the squishy pill while her mum set out the packets of sandwich fillings.

“Well done.” Her mum nodded approvingly, laying a slice of Swiss cheese on top of the layer of mayonnaise on one slice of bread. “Do you feel anything yet?”

“What am I supposed to feel?” Clementine asked. “I thought this just stopped me from accidentally growing?”

“Oh you won’t be growing, any more, that’s for sure!” her mum chuckled as she shook the water off a large crispy lettuce leaf and laid it over the cheese. “The woman in the shop told me you should start by feeling a little tingly, then quite warm.” As she spoke, Clementine did indeed begin to experience a tingling sensation but, unlike with the tonic where it had started from her extremities and worked its way in, this feeling seemed to start in her belly and spread outwards from there.

“What’s happening?” she asked nervously, standing up and managing to walk only a couple of paces before falling down headlong, the softness of her piled-up t-shirt the only thing that kept her from breaking her nose.

“Right about now,” her mum turned to her and used one finger to roll her onto her back, “your bones are softening and turning to pure marrow. No good for moving around but much easier to eat, not to mention tastier!”

“To… eat?” Clementine felt scared and confused. “What do you… Who’s going to…” But her mum placed the tip of her finger on her lips to silence her then, with the ten year old utterly powerless to resist, as floppy as a rag-doll, she pulled open the paper towel and left the cute little blonde laying naked on the absorbent sheet. “What’s happening?” Clementine protested again. “Why are you doing this?” Although unable to move anything other than her mouth and eyes, she was aware of every sensation, not least the oppressive heat which seemed to come from within, worse than any fever!

“Now stop fussing!” her mum tutted. “This is what you wanted after all, isn’t it?”

“What I wanted?” Clementine exclaimed angrily. “No I didn’t want to get eaten!”

“Well you said you didn’t want to come on the holiday with me and Dad,” he mum reminded her, “but there was no way we could leave you on your own or with anyone else for so long so we found a compromise. You should be thanking me really!”

“Fine!” sulked Clementine. “I’ll come on your dumb holiday and won’t complain any more! Can I please go back to normal now?”

“No, dear.” Her mum replied firmly. “There’s no undoing the effect of that second pill. You don’t have a proper skeleton any more and, after all, can’t you feel you’re partly cooked already?”

“Partly cooked?” The tiny ten year old was both confused and intrigued, almost so much so that she forgot to be afraid! “Is that why I feel so hot?”

“Yes,” her mum nodded, “I don’t really know all the science of it but there’s something in that pill that makes the molecules in your body vibrate so you sort of cook yourself from the inside. Oh don’t worry,” she chuckled, “it’s not like going in the oven. You’ll still be alive when I eat you, just means you’ll be tastier.”

“Um… thanks? I guess?” Clementine was really struggling to get her head around what was going on.

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up! I’m hungry!” her mum informed her in a businesslike fashion. Before she knew what was going on, Clementine felt herself being picked up by the hair and carried over to the sink. “Your head will be all squishy now!” her mum explained with a chuckle as Clementine felt the discomfort of her entire weight pulling against the roots of her hair. Although she was now the same size as a Stacie doll and weighed practically nothing, the relative pressure on her hair was just the same as if she had been full size!

Over at the sink, her mum turned on the cold tap and held her under it as if she was a piece of lettuce. The water was incredibly cold, especially against her unusually warm skin and Clemetine tried to struggle and pull away but was unable even to twitch her legs.

“Hey cut it out!” she wailed as she dangled from her mum’s fingers like a rag doll. “Bad enough you’re gonna eat me but you gotta torture me too?” Her mum simply chuckled in response and turned off the tap, much to Clementine’s relief, then walked back over to the counter and took another sheet of kitchen towel which she wrapped around her daughter as if she were a burrito then set her down, soggy and with a sore scalp, on the counter.

As she lay watching her mum pour out a glass of Coke that she was presumably going to wash her down with, Clementine found that she was not actually feeling afraid any more. She was nervous, of course, worried that being eaten alive would hurt, and still very annoyed at being tricked into being her mum’s lunch in this way, but not actually afraid. Maybe she wasn’t big enough to feel fear any more or maybe something in the pill which had turned her bones to tasty jelly and was now making her own body cook itself that helped her relax and stopped her thinking too hard about what was going to happen? In fact, she was feeling quite light-headed. At only ten years old, Clementine had never been drunk but she imagined this might be what it felt like!

Even the heat wasn’t feeling too uncomfortable now – perhaps the cooking had stopped or maybe she was just so far cooked she couldn’t feel it so strongly any more? Either way, she was actually feeling quite relaxed by the time her mum unrolled her floppy form from the paper towel and used another to dab her dry. Humming happily to herself, the woman picked her shrunken daughter up once more by the hair then gently laid her on the bed of lettuce atop the bread and cheese.

“Hmm, you need something else!” She observed, looking thoughtful for a moment before picking up the jar of mayonnaise again and scooping out a spoonful.

“Hey that’s cold!” Clementine exclaimed as her mum dropped the yellowish-white blob onto her belly then used the flat side of a knife to spread it out down her middle in a long line starting under Clementine’s chin and running down to just past her knees.

“Eww that feels gross!” The girl protested, grimacing in disgust. “But how come I can’t smell it?” Normally she quite liked the smell of mayo but had been worried that, in such quantities, relative to her reduced size, at least, the vinegary smell would be overwhelming, even intolerable, but actually she could not smell anything at all.

“Ah that’s kinda a fun fact!” her mum replied conversationally, grinning as she screwed the cap back on the jar. “The molecules of scent are actually too big to fit up your nose now. Which is probably just as well because…” She picked up the pepper grinder and sprinkled Clementine liberally from head to toe with black pepper, looking to the little girl like large black snowflakes. “Perfect!” her mum grinned, looking admiringly at her handwork. “Now to finish off this sandwich!”

“Wait!” Clementine called out, causing her mother to turn to her with interest. “What about my hair?”

“What do you mean?” her mum asked. “Who cares if it needs brushing? You’re getting eaten, not going out for dinner!”

“No but, like, shouldn’t you cut it off or something?” the ten year old asked, not entirely sure why she was cooperating with her own consumption but feeling that, if she was going to be eaten and there was no getting out of it, she wanted to be good food with nothing wasted. The thought of her head getting thrown away, landing among the potato peelings and mouldy tomatoes to eventually find its way onto the compost heap bothered her more somehow than the thought of being eaten. On the other hand, she could not help thinking with some degree of justifiable malice, that if her mum were to choke on her hair while enjoying her Clementine sandwich it would rather serve her right for playing such a mean trick on her in the first place!

“Oh no!” her mum smiled. “That’s fine! The same thing that happened to your bones is happening to your hair and nails too. It was still strong enough to hold you up by but when I eat it, it will just be like tiny savoury gummy worms. See?” She grabbed a lock of Clementine’s splayed blonde hair between thumb and forefinger then used the knife she had used to slice the tomato for the sandwich to cut a little piece off the end. She then popped the hair into her mouth and chewed, smiling to show that it was perfectly edible. “See?” she grinned. “Right, now let’s get on with this! I’m hungry!”

As Clementine lay covered in mayonnaise and pepper and unable to move, her mum resumed her humming and lay another leaf of lettuce over the top of her, almost like she was tucking her into bed with a wet, crispy sheet which covered her face. Although she could not see through the green vegetable blanket, Clementine felt the addition weight as three slices of tomato were dropped on top of her, causing the mayo to squish outwards between her and the lettuce, spreading clammily across her torso and thighs. She heard the grinding sound of another layer of pepper being added then finally her world went dark as a second thick slice of bread was, liberally spread with yet more mayo, was set on top and pressed down. In the middle of the sandwich, Clementine was sure she felt herself flatten a little as the pressure of her mum’s hand was applied from above. After all, there was nothing truly solid about her any more.

Laying in the darkness of the inside of the sandwich, Clementine felt her edible casket lifted briefly then set down again, presumably on a plate. This was followed by a clattering sound as her mum got a glass out of the cupboard followed by the sound of the fridge being opened and closed then a metallic chink and a hissing sound as she opened and poured herself a can of coke to enjoy with her daughter sandwich. Then the plate was picked up again and Clementine felt herself being carried a much greater distance, the plate moving up and down with each step her mum took and making her feel quite sea-sick.

“It’ll serve her right if I throw up in her sandwich!” the mayo and pepper covered ten year old muttered out loud but to herself.

“What was that?” her mum asked sharply, coming to a stand-still.

“Nothing.” Clementine sighed. “But are you done walking yet? Being carried like this is like going down that road with all the pot-holes on holiday last year!”

“Yes, I’m done.” her mum replied with a slight chuckle, setting the plate down on what Clementine assumed was the arm of the sofa. Although the descent could only have been two foot at most, the rapid descent over what was to her a relatively long distance made her ears pop. Next she felt another jostling bump as her mum sat down and got comfy on the sofa, followed by the sound of the television being switched on to some daytime talk show where middle-aged women debated the issues of the day as if their expressed views would have any bearing on the real outcome of the situation. The kind of junk television her mum liked to relax with while she had her lunch – lunch that would that day be her own ten year old daughter in a sandwich.

“So,” she asked her daughter as she picked up the sandwich, “which end am I starting with? Head or feet?” Clementine had not expected to be consulted on this matter and hemmed for a moment while she thought it over. If she opted to be eaten head-first at least it would be over quickly but then what if her mum didn’t take a big enough bite and only took off the top of her head? She had heard stories about people losing most of their brain and still being kind of alive and there was the one chicken who had lived a pretty normal life for several years after its head had been cut off because it wasn’t done properly. Although she knew it would only be for the half-minute or so it took her mum to chew and swallow her mouthful, the thought of experiencing that sort of half-life, able to feel but not to think, filled Clementine with horror.

“Feet first, please.” she replied eventually, her voice somewhat muffled by the other sandwich fillings. “I guess if I’ve got to be eaten I might as well be able to enjoy it?”

“Fair point!” her mum chuckled. “I thought you might say that somehow!” This was it, Clementine knew. The sandwich was being lifted towards her mother’s mouth. Soon those giant teeth would close in on her, biting through the bread and fillings from above and below until they reached her legs. Then they would keep going until they met, her gelatinous bones and self-cooked muscle offering no resistance.

Breathing heavily, she felt the pressure just below her knees as her mum’s teeth began to bite down, relieving a little as they cut into the bread and continued their journey. In no time at all, Clementine felt the sharp teeth above her legs and below. At first her legs squashed under the pressure then the huge teeth broke through her skin and bit through her legs as if they were delicious sausages fresh off the barbecue.

“Oh wow!” her mum exclaimed with her mouth full, happily munching her Clementine sandwich. “You taste amazing!” The meat was tender with a smokey taste, pairing perfectly with the other flavours of the cheese, mayo and salad, with the pepper only serving to enhance its flavour. “If I’d known you’d be this good, I’d have eaten you ages ago!”

Clementine was in shock. She had expected having her legs bitten off to hurt but, while it had been uncomfortable in the moment, she could not really describe the sensation as pain. Instead she was left with a tingly numbness that almost tickled – she supposed this was due to her body being mostly cooked and capable only of limited sensation. Still, she was being eaten! It had begun. A few more bites and she would be no more. Almost like… Despite the bleakness of her position, or perhaps because of it and her slightly intoxicated brain trying to shield her from thinking too deeply about the reality of her situation, Clementine began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” her mum asked, swallowing her well chewed and savoured mouth full.

“I was just thinking about how I’m like the Gingerbread Man!” her partially-consumed daughter explained from within her sandwich. “You know, when the fox is eating him and he cries out about being a quarter gone, then half gone?”

“I see!” her mum chuckled. “Well if you’re keeping score, I’d say you’re about one fifth gone! Speaking of which…” She raised the sandwich again and took a second bite, right through Clementine’s thighs. The bite was quicker this time, since both knew what to expect, but with the mouthful containing more delicious meat, since she had reached the thicker part of her daughter’s legs. The whole situation felt quite absurd to Clementine as she let out more involuntary giggles. Just half an hour earlier she had been getting ready to go on holiday, even if it did sound really boring, and now she was nearly half-way through being eaten in a sandwich, not even commanding her mum’s full attention as she listened to the women on television while munching.

How long could she survive like this, she wondered? She knew that some people lost their legs and carried on living just fine but the next bite would surely be into her belly. Could she survive that? Would be cooked from the inside like she had been allow her to survive a little longer or would she not even live as long as the Gingerbread Man in the story who was able to exclaim when he was three-quarters gone? She did not have to wait long for an answer as, with ever-increasing enthusiasm, her mum swallowed her second mouthful and went in for a third bite. This time, her teeth closed almost exactly in line with Clementine’s mayo-filled belly button, biting off the most tender and juiciest parts of her body.

Although she closed her eyes and braced herself for what she supposed would be the fatal bite, Clementine quickly realised that she was still alive, and was also quite surprised to find she still had her hands. This changed quickly, however, as her mum took a couple of smaller bites to even out the sandwich that was now almost exactly half consumed, leaving Clementine with only the upper half of her torso and very little of her arms below the elbow. Knowing that the next bite would likely be through her chest and knowing she would certainly not survive that, Clementine screwed her eyes shut and braced herself for the final bite which would send her to oblivion but it did not come. Instead, after a moment or two, she felt what remained of herself and the sandwich being set back down on the plate.

“Hey! What’s going on?” she called out in protest. “You’re not full, are you? You can’t just leave me like this!” Once again, fears of going to waste and being thrown out with the rest of the garbage flooded her mind and she started to panic.

“Oh no, no! Nothing like that!” her mum assured her quickly, taking a few sips from her glass of Coke and standing up, something Clementine was able to detect by the way the plate rocked. “I was just thinking you’d go really well with a bag of smokey bacon chips!” She walked out, leaving Clementine alone in the room. The women on television had been replaced by noisy adverts, which she supposed was why her mum had taken that opportunity to go get her chips. Clementine wished she could push the lettuce and the heavy bread on top of it off her face but she still could not move and, even if she had been able to, she had no hands with which to do the pushing! Still, she was not enjoying being stuck inside the dark, clammy sandwich and it seemed a fairly grotty way to spend her last minute or so of life!

Soon enough, she heard footsteps again and the bump as her mum sat back down on the sofa. It was only then that it occurred to Clementine that she didn’t seem to be bleeding – she guessed that was because she was more of less cooked, or maybe another side-effect of the squishy pill she had eaten? Either way, it really did seem as if the experience of eating her, for her mum, was much the same as eating a burger or hotdog in a bun! There was a rattling sound as the potato-chips were poured out onto the plate beside the Clementine sandwich then a crunching as her mum ate two or three before the half-eaten little girl felt the sandwich lifted again.

This last bite, she knew with reasonable certainty, would be the last one she experienced. She was still cross about being tricked in this way and certainly not happy about being eaten but, with seconds left to live, Clementine found a clarity of mind that pushed these negative thoughts aside and she realised she did not want her very last thoughts or words to be angry or sad ones so, just as her mum was about to bite down, she called out:

“Goodbye Mum! I’m glad I was tasty for you! Hope you and Dad have a nice holiday!”

“Thank you dear.” Her mum replied kindly. “Who knows, perhaps we’ll make a little brother or sister while we’re there? We’ll be sure to tell them all about you and hopefully they’ll be just as delicious as you one day!” With that, she bit down, first squashing then biting through her daughter’s chest, biting almost perfectly half way through her heart which immediately stopped beating and, seconds later, sweet little Clementine was truly nothing more than sandwich filling.

After another mouthful of Coke and a handful of chips, her mother took another delicious bite, then another, munching happily on each shoulder and upper arm in turn until there was nothing left of Clementine but her head. One more sip of Coke washed the previous bites down and she pushed the rest of the sandwich into her mouth, feeling the little head pop juicily like a grape as she bit into it. She chewed slowly, savouring the delicious flavour of her young daughter for as long as possible before swallowing.

“Well!” she chuckled, addressing her fully-consumed daughter through the ether. “I guess now you’re all gone!”

She finished the chip and Coke slowly while she watched the rest of the show then took her plate out to the kitchen and went up to the bedroom to finish packing for her much anticipated vacation, the taste of her delectable little girl still fresh in her mouth.

The End