Emmas Growth Spurt Ch 24

The next few days seemed to blend together for Emma; it didn't matter whether it was night or day, hot or cold...she remained in the barn, curled up in the hay, trying to sleep as much as she possibly could. Whenever she was awake, her mind was troubled by a whole cacophony of memories that all clanged and clashed against each other in her brain, making it difficult to reason anything out. When she did try to focus on specific events, she either became terribly scared and remorseful, like when she remembered the vague image of ambulances dashing away into the dark, or vituperatively hurt and angry, like when she remembered how all those cops had shot at her...at her FACE...or when Daisy had opened her arms to Daniel as he staggered away from Emma...the two of them fleeing off into the night, to the house...away from her, clutching each other.

It was all too painful for Emma to seriously contemplate, and whenever she tried, her head quickly began to hurt so badly that she quickly gave up.

'I can't do it,' she thought despondently. 'I can't think about it...ANY of it. I have no idea...no idea what's going on.'

The bullets the police had shot at her hadn't done any permanent damage, even the one that had nicked close to her eye. However, over the next day or two, the little pockmarks where the bullets had hit developed into an itchy rash, which partially spanned over the side of her right cheek and then down a little onto her neck. Emma tried to resist scratching it, but whenever it itched particularly badly, she just couldn't help herself. Whenever she remembered that it was all because the police had shot bullets at her face, her mood soured, and she stewed in the anger that was once again beginning to encroach on her mind.

It didn't help that she had become twice as hungry as she already had been before. Her massive growth spurt earlier in the week had created a permanent "new normal" as far as her diet was concerned. She was so much bigger than she had been before, and her body correspondingly required more food. Her father had started leaving food at the barn entrance. On the first day after the police had come, he had tried to engage her in conversation, but Emma had turned away from him, lying in the fetal position, showing him the huge expanse of her back.

"Just...just thought I'd, uhh...let you know, Em that, uh...that the cops in the hospital are...are all, uhhh..."

"What?" asked Emma in a hollow voice, staring at the opposite wall of the barn. "They're all what, dad?" She felt oddly prepared to hear that they were all dead, and she had no idea how she felt about it. She felt like she would either be consumed by remorse, or would simply shrug and not feel a thing...it was a strange and unsettling place to be, mentally.

"They're all...doing ok," Jim said, stepping slightly around the dozens of bags of food as he tried to get a better look at Emma. Even though he was her father, and loved her dearly, he didn't dare go into the barn. He and the rest of the family understood it as "her territory" at this point, and none of them knew how she would react if they came too close.

"A few are still in the ICU...but, uh...none of them have...have..."

"Died?" asked Emma in that same hollow voice.

"Yeah...they're all...still alive," said Jim. He was about to mention how a few of them, particularly the one Emma had swiped into the barn wall, had almost died, and would likely be handicapped for life, but his daughter's voice sounded strange, and it sent chills down his spine. He decided to leave those details out.

Emma knew that he expected her to show some kind of reaction to this, but even the thought of this expectation annoyed her. She had no reaction. She felt nothing. And come to think of it, she just wanted to be alone. Jim could sense Emma's feelings, and he pushed the bags a little closer to the entrance.

"Just, uhh...ok, ok, got your, uh...food here," he said with uncharacteristic hesitancy and awkwardness. He started back in surprise and fear as Emma abruptly turned around in her lying position. Such a sudden movement from a 21-foot-tall giantess would have been enough to startle anyone, especially someone who had seen what Jim had seen the previous night.

Emma had seen her father's scared reaction, and she couldn't avoid a dark, mocking grin. Of course he was going to stagger back like that, the terrified little man. He was so tiny that of COURSE he couldn't see that she was just lying there, minding her own business...any movement he made would totally freak him out.

'Typical,' she thought mockingly, shaking her head. 'Typical tiny-person reaction...god I'm getting sick of it...so sick of it it's actually getting funny.'

"S-sorry Em, you just...d-don't scare me like that!" exclaimed Jim indignantly, obviously shaken as he continued stepping back with his hands held up.

"Psssh, you're ridiculous dad," Emma murmured, propping her head up on her arm. Even in this position, she was taller than him by a good foot or so. Her eyes fell on the bags of food, burlap bags, 16 in all.

'That's not even close to enough,' she thought immediately. 'I'll eat it in ten minutes, and it won't even dent my appetite.'

"A-Anything wrong?" Jim asked. He could tell that something was definitely wrong, but it was impossible for him to read Emma's expression. She was smiling darkly at the food, almost smirking at it. More than anything, though, he was not encouraged by Emma's attitude. If she had been remorseful and crying to herself when he came, it would have been easier for him to work with her. But she didn't seem to be remorseful at all...worse, she didn't really even seem to grasp what had happened.

"No," said Emma suddenly, her eyes snapping back to her father. "Nothing's wrong. Thanks for the food, dad."

With her head still propped up, she used her free hand to reach over toward the bags, which were so small that she could pinch them in between her two fingers easily. Without even bothering to empty it out, she simply dropped the whole thing, meat, vegetables, bag, and all, straight into her mouth, chewing and swallowing the whole thing in a matter of seconds.

"Augh! Gack!" she exclaimed, sticking her tongue out a little as she gagged on the tough burlap. Emma felt a little irritated, in the same way that ordinary people do when they bite down on a bit of gristle in their meat, or a particularly tough stem when they're chewing and swallowing vegetables. She hadn't thought the bags would be too much of a problem going down, but apparently, they were a bit more difficult than she had expected.

Without pause, she pinched the second bag and dispatched it in exactly the same way, this time making sure to chew a bit more before she swallowed. Jim just stood there, watching his giant daughter wolfing down pounds of food, without even seeming to exert any effort. The sight was mesmerizing, but it was also frightening; in addition to the sheer enormity of her appetite, there was something unsettling about how she was eating the bags too.

But to Emma, it was simply easier than emptying the little things out into her mouth. Such an action would have required more effort and dexterity from her big fingers than she wanted to exert...and besides, the bags were just more fiber, anyways. Within three minutes, all 16 bags were gone. Only when there was nothing left did Jim realize that he had just been standing there, watching Emma eating.

"Uhhhh," he muttered apologetically, and he made a move away from her back towards the farm house. He was suddenly realizing that he wasn't comfortable just hanging out with her there, when there wasn't food to distract her. The things he had seen her do the day before were still very fresh in his mind, and he had no idea how to predict what mood she was going to be in, or what she was going to do. It also didn't help that her huge, curvy body was still completely naked. Jim hadn't seen his daughter naked since she was 11 or 12, and now that he was seeing her 21-foot voluptuousness in all its glory, it wasn't even a question of feeling awkward. He had absolutely nothing to go on.

"Wait...dad!" said Emma, and unconsciously, she knocked her fist into the ground. She had seen that he was going to run away into the house...that he was scared of her...that he was going to abandon her just like everyone else, and somehow, subconsciously, she knew that if she reminded him how big she was, it would make him stop. But she felt too lazy to actually crawl over and block his way, so she just brought her fist down into the ground...not too hard, but definitely hard enough to make the earth shake.

Jim stopped and turned around slowly, and Emma could see that he was shaking. "Wh-what is it, Em?!" he stammered.

'Gee, maybe did it too hard,' she thought. It was certainly a little funny, and definitely cute, to see her dad trembling like that. But more than anything else, Emma felt the prick of irritation growing stronger in her mind. For god's sake, why was he being so freaking dramatic!? It was just HER, after all.

"I need more food than THAT, dad," she declared, picking a strand of burlap out of her teeth. "That was like...a little snack."

"O-ok...ok Em," Jim said, nodding quickly. "I'll, uhh...I'll bring you some more here. Just might, uh, might have to go buy some more."

"Ok, well...yeah," said Emma, now feeling awkward herself. She saw her dad turn around again, as his shoulders slumped a little before he resumed the trudge back to the house. Somewhere in her mind, Emma knew that, in their terms, she had just eaten up four or five Thanksgiving's worth of food...at least...And she knew that cost money. Watching her dad nod like that, Emma felt a little wave of guilt. Her poor little dad, going out to buy his giant daughter all the food she needs...her sweet, tiny little daddy...but even still, Emma just had a hard time wrapping her mind around the size disparity. If her parents kept bringing her these little "snack offerings," what else was she supposed to do? She was hungry! She had to survive, after all! But all the same...

"Hey, uhh...dad?" she said, starting to crack an odd smile.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning back around to face her, blinking up at her blankly.

"Just let me know if you need, uhh...haha, any more fields plowed or anything...heheh...you know...stuff like that," she said, chuckling at the perceived humor of what she was saying.

"I, uhhh...?" was all Jim could say. He didn't know what his daughter was getting at, and he was starting to worry that she was playing some kind of messed-up game with him. His paranoia was beginning to get the better of him.

"You know...haha, don't want you to think I'm like, ordering you all around like my little servants or something!" laughed Emma, now sitting up in front of the barn and folding her huge legs into a cross-legged position. She stretched her back and arched her spine backward, her muscles rippling as she stretched her torso out, gently tapping the back of her head into the wood of the upper barn. Even sitting down like this, she was over 11 feet tall.

Jim didn't say anything -- what could he say? Emma smiled down on him for a few more seconds, before adding:

"I mean, haha, I guess all I'm saying is that...just, let me know if you need some stuff done around the place that, uhm...that you can't do yourself. Cause I got these big guns now, haha!"

Laughing, Emma held up her arms in a double-bicep pose, flexing them. She was just trying to be silly, to dilute the seriousness in the air, and she was also just genuinely trying to offer her services. But really, when it came down to it, Emma didn't quite know what she was doing. She knew she was acting weird, but she was just plowing on ahead, trying to find some sense in it all.

"A-alright, Em," stuttered Jim, quite intimidated by the size of Emma's arms. They were proportional, but when she flexed them like that, it really just hit home how huge she was. He started backing away again, and was about to make a full turn when Emma stopped him one last time.

"Uh dad..." Emma began, but then she stopped. She suddenly feared dredging up buried pain.

"Em?"

"Is...is Daniel doing alright?" Her voice sounded hollow, like a stranger's in her ears.

"He's fine...doing fine," said Jim stiffly, nodding his head. "Think he's sleeping...uh, ok, gotta go get that food."

Emma watched him go. He had answered too quickly. Her visage darkened, and she turned around and crawled back into the barn, trying over and over to swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.

Of course, Daniel wasn't doing alright. He had been understandably shaken since Emma had...taken him against his will. He didn't want to think about it in terms of the "r-word," because doing so only made him feel more upset than he already was. Maisy and Jim were giving him his space in the house, and had seemed to have largely accepted that Daisy was the one taking care of him. Daisy, overcoming the more combative aspects of her nature, seemed to understand that Daniel was in shock, and that it wouldn't help anything if she showed her own anger. Instead, she appreciated that it was important for her to show her calm, gentle support -- she took him his food as he rested in bed; she sat with him; she suggested passing the time with shows she thought he would like, just to take his mind off what had happened.

And all the while, Daisy kept her own fury down. She couldn't believe what she had seen Emma do to Daniel. Sensing trouble, she had quietly followed Daniel to the barn, and had called the police when it had become clear that Emma was about to do something terrible. Of course, now she was regretting that decision, but what else could she have done instead? She replayed the event over and over again in her mind, and there didn't seem to be many good options. She knew that everyone -- Emma included -- was in uncharted territory, and had been so for a long time...but it didn't help with how angry she had become at her "little" sister. As far as she was concerned, Emma had become a totally different person. Her growth condition, whatever it was, had clearly messed up her mind, to the point where she didn't have a firm grasp on reality anymore. Deep down, Daisy knew that Emma hadn't meant to cause any of the harm that she already had...in her mind, her sister had become mentally unfit, and could no longer be held responsible for her actions, at least in a legal sense.

But somehow, that wasn't quite enough for Daisy. Emma was still "there" enough, mentally-speaking, for Daisy to feel like her sister hadn't gone completely insane. And when she had watched Emma calmly take Daniel and abuse him in the barn, she had not been able to shake off that expression she had seen Emma make -- it was delighted...transported, even. She had been excited to take him against his will. Exerting power over him had actually...turned her on, even. It all made Daisy feel sick, and she could not shake from her mind the thought that, even though her sister had definitely lost it, she was still somewhat present mentally. And this thought fueled her anger.

Even deeper down, of course, there were other things. Emma had always been a little prettier than her, a little taller, a little more ambitious. Emma had been the one to move to the city; Emma had been the one to land a handsome, gentle, caring boyfriend who made good money; Emma had done a lot of things that Daisy envied. But all of this was buried very far beneath the surface, and even Daisy herself wasn't too aware of it all.

She just knew that, as the days passed by, she felt herself feeling more and more sorry for Daniel. The poor man, ordinarily in good spirits, had developed this kind of hollow-eyed stare, and rarely came out of his bedroom. Everyone felt bad for him, but Daisy was the one willingly shouldering the burden. Each passing day, she spent more and more time with him, and with this time, they grew even closer than they had already become.

Daniel knew that it was natural to be traumatized by what had happened to him, but the crushing sadness he was experiencing did not actually revolve around the events inside the barn. Instead, they were centered on this idea, which had been growing stronger each day he had spent on the farm, that Emma had grown into someone different...someone who he couldn't recognize. The Emma he knew would never have violated him like that. Daniel had tried convincing himself that he hadn't protested loudly enough, that she couldn't hear him, but he knew it was useless. She HAD heard him...she had just laughed it off and chosen to do what she felt like doing.

'She's not a bad person,' Daniel thought over and over to himself, the sadness squeezing at him harder and harder. 'She's just...a different person now.'

Maisy was dealing with the trauma in her own quiet way. It had been especially wrenching for her to see her youngest daughter, her little Em, in such a situation with the police. There was absolutely no precedent for Maisy to fall back on...nothing she could take solace or comfort in. Any parent would have been harrowed by seeing their offspring shot at by police, and that sight alone had disturbed Emma's mother badly enough. But the added sight of seeing her gigantic daughter...do those...those things to the police...the way she had swung her arm and plastered that man against the barn wall...the way she had kicked out and snapped that other man's leg...the way she had thrown that lieutenant like he was nothing more than a rag doll...Maisy knew that it was by sheer fortuitous accident alone that Emma hadn't killed at least a few of the police officers. The reality of her daughter's power and strength -- and more importantly, her will to use it -- had dawned on Maisy like a blood-red sunrise, illuminating a stark and terrifying new landscape in her mind. She knew that Emma was still somewhere in there, somewhere inside that enormous, gigantic behemoth of a body...but Maisy had to grapple with the bare and painful realization that her daughter had grown into something genuinely unpredictable and terrifying.

So, having no idea how to navigate this horrible uncharted territory, Maisy started working on the only thing she could think of to somehow pass the time: clothes for her giantess daughter. Ever since Emma had returned from her "walk," totally naked, with that wild light in her eyes, Maisy had felt like her daughter really had gone off the edge of the cliff, so to speak. It pained her to see Emma so exposed, even though her daughter didn't seem to mind it in the least. The sight of Emma's massive body was also deeply unsettling to Maisy, since the sheer extent of Emma's curvaceous, voluptuous strength had clear sexual undertones -- she looked like a Greek goddess, and even though she was Emma's mother, Maisy had found herself unconsciously, helplessly gawking at Emma's hugeness as she moved...her huge ass cheeks bouncing and jiggling up and down, back and forth, her big, heavy breasts swinging down from her gargantuan chest, the way the firm, feminine contours of her thighs shook and quivered with every thunderous step...it was all a bit much for Maisy, and so she set herself to working on an immense summer dress for her daughter. Somewhere in her mind, Maisy nursed a hope that if Emma wore clothes again, she might somehow "come back" to reality.

It took Maisy most of the next week to finish the dress; she knew that it was very likely a futile endeavor, since Emma's growth spurt hadn't shown any signs of slowing down recently. Jim was the only person in the household who saw Emma regularly, albeit briefly, when he would drop off her food outside the barn, and from him, Maisy learned that Emma hadn't seemed that much bigger than she already was.