There was a slight rise in Timothy's swelling chest, a rise that he only felt once before. When his father caught him with Jerry, he felt it, uncurling somewhere near his heart and making it beat faster, then clawing its way out through his body, making his muscles tense up and his throat go dry. It's not something he felt a lot of, but when you *did* feel it, its name was unmistakable.
Timothy was beginning to panic.
He thumped over to the now tiny box and grabbed it in his hand, forgetting for a moment to be gentle. His fingers felt clumsy with the little treasure box in his hand, and the fact that those keys would soon be too fine to manipulate properly did nothing to calm him down. He grabbed one of the keys from the bottom, dropping it to the floor almost immediately. He cursed softly and was surprised to find his voice had a much deeper, richer quality that reverbated the walls softly; he tried not to think about how much bigger he had to be in order to do that.
Timothy closed his eyes and tried to drown out the screams wanting to pour from his throat. "All right, Tim, get a grip," he told himself. He repeated it over and over, like a mantra, only with each recitation his voice grows deeper, and louder. Once he calmed and opened his eyes, the box seemed even smaller, and the room was growing a little cramped. The keys, of course, were even smaller than his fingernail.
"No problem," the ten-foot-tall giant rumbled. "As long as I can keep my head, I can do this."
Just then, his head hit the ceiling. If he *could* do it, he'd better do it soon, or else he'd have bigger problems to worry about.
He looked down at the box, crouched down in the dwindling room. The five gems...the five symbols...it didn't take long for him to figure out what the depressed one did.
"That made me grow bigger...so...." Timothy looked at the faint symbols next to the gemstone, the floor creaking under his weight as he shifted his feet.
The arrow pointing down must make him smaller; maybe the one with the arrow pointing both ways would just stop his growth? He didn't know what the man symbol meant, and he didn't dare try the arrows pointing in every direction; who knew what that might do?
Timothy passed 13 feet tall. He grabbed the now tiny keys in his other palm and considered carefully. He didn't want to outgrow his house, but at the same time...he was kind of intrigued by the possibilities this little box afforded. Should he experiment some more?