I Became a Frog

I became a frog.

Those were the words I wrote onto a piece of paper the size of a table, using ink from a pen three times my size. I had planned to write more - perhaps an entire paragraph themed around the phrase “I have no idea what just happened someone please explain what’s going on” - but the gargantuan size of the pen, alongside my newly-formed tiny arms, meant that even just one sentence was a tiring effort.

With a raspy sigh, I let go of the pen, feeling the utensil unstick itself from the circular pads I once called fingers. It fell to the floor with a clang that was almost deafening. A mistake on my part. Big mistake. Now the servants outside my room would be coming in to investigate, which meant a potential trip to the cruel, heartless witch that was almost definitely the cause for my croaky conundrum.

“Rudy, don’t call her that!” my mother had said, on the day the lady had arrived. I could tell she had been angry at me, as it was the only time she used my real name. Any other day and I’d be ‘Ribbie’. “Her name is Kairega, she’s here to renovate the mess of our back garden.”

My poor mother, deceived by the witchcraft of Kairega, believing her to be an architect. Of course, I had seen right through it. Her black outfit, adorned with animal skins and feathers. The crooked nose that was bent so sharp it was like a fishing hook. The wrinkled, ghost-like skin that was pulled back around her lips, making even her smiles look predatory and sinister. It was a witch no doubt. One from my storybooks, coming to curse the family for her own nefarious purposes. I was having none of it. She couldn’t fool me.

The first impression with her was met with disdain from both sides. I disliked her nature, and she despised me in return. Half of it was certainly due to me guessing her identity, of course, but the other half was likely because I had been covered in mud, fresh from exploring the pond out in my home’s garden. To be fair, no-one had told me she was coming. If I had known I might have put on better clothing, with my upper-class, regal nature being expressed more easily than just a dirty crown stuck on my head. But that first meeting was all that was needed to spark months of resentment. I disrupted her plans, she insulted and punished me. I called her a witch, she called me a lazy toad. Some relationships are destined to be at odds with each other, and ours was just like that.

The worst thing, however, was her hatred of filth. There was a terrible clash, as she demanded cleanliness, while I spent my days in the woodland and ponds, watching the wildlife from within the dirt. My favourite had always been the frogs. I loved how they jumped around, bouncing from pad to pad. Ironic, really, that I ended up not only becoming one, but wishing to turn back.

Unfortunately, that was where my recollection currently ended. One day I was a regular human girl - if a bit on the short side. Next thing I know I was three inches high, with slimy skin and hidden in the dark corner of the pantry. At first I thought I had just been shrunk down, placed under a spell to make me so small I couldn’t run away. It was only when I shouted in shock that the realisation came to me. For when I yelled, nothing but ribbits and croaks came out of my mouth.

“What’s happening?” I said to myself. Or at least, I tried to say. What actually came out of my mouth was a splurge of animal sounds, unintelligible and undecipherable. My voice was trapped in my own head, and I was stuck speaking a language I couldn’t understand. Even then, the amphibious nature of my newly hatched body had not dawned on me. I had been standing there, mouth agape. I’d brought my hands up to my face, ready to slap my cheeks as I figured out what was going on, when I finally saw the truth of what had occurred.

Instead of arms and hands, I was looking at green sticks, with four shiny branches extending off each one and ending with a sticky pad. As I looked, I noticed my vision was blurring, having difficulty focusing on close objects, and when I looked down to witness the horror of the rest of me, I was met with the bulbous body of a tree frog, all slimy and smooth with dark green spots and a tan belly. The only remaining items that reminded me that I had been human was a small bow tie and an even smaller crown - remnants of the clothing I must’ve been wearing that day.

Light came pouring into the room as a figure opened the pantry door. From my new size, they seemed like a giant; hundreds of times the size of myself, and with feet big enough to squash me without any resistance. As they entered the room, I found myself crawling backwards in fear, trying to hide against the corner underneath the shelving. My back pressed against the dusty wood, making a strange sound as my more squishy body compressed to make room. The figure was hard to make out due to the light blinding me from behind him, but the pointy shoes and red-white striped socks gave me a clue. There was no doubt it was one of the servants, as they all seemed to dress in such weird fashion, with white painted faces and dyed green hair.

“Ach, she isn’t in here,” he said. That voice was familiar. It had to be Gecko.

Poor, sweet Gecko. He was just a young boy, not much younger than me. He had been the servant assigned to me, and looking at it now, I hadn’t treated him well at all. Whatever abuse I hurled his way he took diligently, without any resistance. Even on days where my mood was sour, he never talked back, taking everything with a pained smile. To be fair to myself, he was a bit of a wet blanket, never joining me on my more adventurous pursuits. His dullness had often made me frustrated. Only now did I feel the weight of my actions as he came in. The tables had flipped, the position of power reversed. If he found me now, there was no doubt I’d turn up tomorrow as a green splat on the carpet.

Gecko ventured further, getting closer to my hiding spot. It was clear that he was searching for me, based on what he'd said and the actions he was making. Every now and then he’d duck down, peering under one of the shelves. It was only a matter of time before he found me, shivering like a scared dog, failing to be invisible. Every footstep sounded like the ringing of a clock, counting down to doomsday. Three steps. Two steps. One step. His feet were in front of me now, every thread of the material lit up in detail.

A muffled voice came from outside, causing Gecko to pause. I couldn’t hear much, but as the voice spoke to Gecko, one word was clear. “Kairega.”

So she was responsible. Then that meant Gecko was working for her, likely bewitched under her rotten spells. Who else had fallen for her tricks? My mother, likely. Ever since she hired the hag for work. A charming tongue and a little compliment could get you so far. Was everyone in the mansion against me now?

“I’ll be right there,” Gecko replied to his unknown companion. He turned around and left the room, stopping to take one last glance in. If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve said he’d looked straight at me. But surely, if he had, then he would’ve said something. Perhaps he’d thought of it as a trick of the light. Regardless, it was good news for me.

I had to get somewhere. But where could I go? The pantry was no place for royalty, and even less so for a frog. Many rooms at home were too large, too grand scale to be travelling in such small form. No, if I was to go somewhere, it had to be someplace with lots of hiding spots, that was compact, and that I knew inside out.

My bedroom. Of course.

I took my first step toward freedom. Wobbly, awkward steps, sure, but steps nonetheless. My back legs were huge, and the new roundness of my physique wasn’t helping. Even so, I was making good progress. It seemed that this new body came with walking instructions pre-installed.

I made it to the door. Thankfully, Gecko had left it open a crack, and with a firm yet painful headbutt I managed to open it enough for me to squeeze through. The hallway was before me now. It was a fancy hall, with golden, shining lights and decorations strung out across the ceiling and on several tables. A soft blue carpet was laid out along the floor, covering a polished flooring made of wood. To my surprise, the place was empty - the only people being in pictures hung up on the wall.

Down the hall and up the stairs. That was where I had to go. My bedroom was first on the left once I reached the first floor, so once I made it up, I would basically be there. Time was of the essence, however. Up until now I had traversed with clumsy walking, but now was the time to prove myself as a frog. If I was going to be in this body, I had to learn how to hop.

I cast my mind back, recounting the visits to the pond. I had spent days staring at them hop about, kicking their back legs to cover huge amounts of distance. It seemed like such little effort, but now I was focusing hard to even conceive the motion. No trouble, surely. Just jump up and land on my front legs. The frogs made it look simple.

“Ok Ribbie, no holding back,” I thought to myself. With a solid croak, I bent my legs hard and extended like an uncoiled spring. My legs sprung forward at a wicked pace, much faster than I was expecting. I was tumbling through the air, flying forward at a speed too quick to fathom. If anyone had been nearby, then they would’ve seen a green blur rocketing forward while screeching, limbs flailing as I struggled to keep balance. The ground came up impossibly fast, and I bounced along the ground, my soft body protecting me from harmful damage.

By the time I had come to a standstill, all I could see was the ceiling. I’d majestically landed on my back, legs sticking in the air like a turtle. For a first try, it could’ve gone worse. Also could’ve gone better, but no-one perfects the art at the beginning. Clearly, I was going to need some work. I had to try again before someone else turned up looking for me. Already I could hear voices coming from other rooms, each one calling my name.

Again I jumped, and again I fell on my head. The third time, however, I stuck the landing. “Maybe I’m getting better!” I thought with foolish optimism. The fourth jump shot that idea down as I careered into the wall with a splat, leaving a damp mark on the paint. It was dizzy work, hopping like this. To my surprise, though, I was almost near the stairs. Frogs must move fast. With one last jump (which I successfully landed) I was at the bottom of the stairs.

While getting to the stairs was tough, actually climbing them turned out to be a challenge in it’s own league. Unlike the nice, flat hallway, the steps were steep and narrow, and every jump up made me smack into a raised edge. I wasn’t sure if frogs could bruise, but if they could, then I’d be black and blue in the morning. There was progress being made, but it was painful progress, which came complete with painful croaks every time my face smacked against the next step up. Somehow, in my dizzy, confused state, I managed to traverse the stairs.

At the top of the landing, my room was in sight. I hopped to it, reaching the safe space of my abode, which is where I came across the pen and paper. The note I had written hadn’t been intended for a cry for help. Rather, it was just a test to see if I could write. My speech was translated into bestial croaking, after all. What was to say it hadn’t translated into letters and numbers? Thankfully, I could still understand what was being written down.

Which brings me to the point right after I dropped the pen, hearing it hit the table and listening to the approaching footsteps outside because of it. I’d goofed up. There was barely even enough time to hop off the table, let alone hide. One of the servants was coming in, and then it would be game over. I hadn’t even lasted an hour as a frog. My favourite animal, and I couldn’t even survive a day. I would never live this moment down.

Regardless, I tried to escape. Giving up wasn’t an option. I hopped down from the table in a panic, attempting to find some small place to hide. Unfortunately, I was still learning the basics of movement, and my hops were clumsy and inaccurate. What I intended to be a leap underneath the bed ended up being a launch into the bedpost. At the last second, I stuck out my hands, and as I collided with the post my sticky fingers wrapped around it like tape, saving me from a fall.

It wasn’t enough. The door opened, and standing in it was Gecko, staring at me with a scared look on his face.

I shut my eyes to accept my fate.

“There you are,” Gecko whispered to me. He walked closer and bent down, holding out a hand for me to jump in. Naturally, I wasn’t going to fall for it. He was acting too comfortable with this situation to be of any sane mind.

“Come on,” he whispered, while his eyes darted left and right. “We haven’t much time. How you managed to evade Kairega I don’t know, but she isn’t taking it well. We have to go.”

I stood my ground. This was an obvious trap. How dare Kairega assume I was so dumb, so simple minded as to fall for such a trick? I might’ve been in the body of a frog, but my mind was still that of Ribbie the human, self-proclaimed princess and expert detective.

“Ribbie, it’s me,” Gecko pointed to himself, circling his painted face and red cheeks, while pointing at his green hair and outlandish outfit. “I know it’s you in there. I’m getting you out of here.”

I looked at him, blinking. Could it be Gecko? He didn’t seem to be brainwashed, as his face was of genuine concern. But if that was the case, why was he so calm about this? The person he served, turned into a frog and fleeing for her life. It would’ve been a surreal story for even the most skeptical, never mind plain old Gecko.

Gecko sighed. Clearly, he’d had enough. With a gloved hand, he rather rudely scooped me up, holding me between his palms like a captured animal. He clutched me against his chest and fled through the door. My vision was dark. All I could see was Gecko’s hands, lit up through the gaps between his fingers. I protested, ribbiting and croaking at this informal handling, but Gecko shushed me, and I found myself keeping my mouth quiet.

I heard the world outside in a panic. The sounds of doors opening and slamming shut. Voices calling out my name as the various staff searched my home for me. A pitter patter of footsteps as Gecko ran past a small group of people. All of it flew past my new, odd frog ears as my captor fled out into the open. As he barged through the back door, a waft of fresh, swampy air filled my nostrils. It smelt much more appealing than before, back when I had been human. In fact, I was itching to jump straight into the mud, to moisten my skin that was feeling the chilling effects of the breeze, which slipped through the gaps in Gecko’s fingers.

The sound of feet on stone became a splash of mud, and soon after that a soft crunching of dead leaves. Gecko stopped abruptly, causing me to slam against his finger cage. Such humiliation! One not fit for a girl like me. I ribbited in protest, but Gecko hushed me once more.

There was a moment of silence as Gecko stood still. Finally, after what felt like forever, he uncovered his hands, letting light pour into my eyes once more. He had taken me deep within the woods outside the house, and was sitting against a fallen tree with a panicked expression on his face, the white of his paint turning pink from the run.

“You probably have a lot of questions,” Gecko said, keeping his voice down. “I’ll try to explain them as I can.”

I shot him a quizzical look. Dozens of questions flooded my tiny, amphibious brain, but there was one I had to know first.

“How are you so in-the-know about all this?” I tried to say, in reality delivering a parade of croaks and wheezes. You idiot, I can’t speak, I thought, with the insult aimed at both Gecko and myself. There was no way he could understand me.

To my surprise, Gecko responded. “We’ve been keeping tabs on you for a while,” he said, eyes constantly darting around. “At least, as soon as that architect showed up. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened, and I’d say you got lucky.”

“Wait, you understand me?!” I blurted out. “And how can you call me lucky? I’m a frog!”

Gecko scratched his head in a guilty manner. “Yeah, I’ll talk about that later. You might not like being a frog, but seeing as it’s the only other language I can understand, you could’ve been a lot worse.”

I squinted at him suspiciously. Plain old Gecko. Dry, boring Gecko. The servant who offered little in the ways of fun, and only now was he displaying a side I’d never seen before. It was all so strange.

A snap of twigs came from afar.

“Oh no,” Gecko whispered. He covered me up in his hands again, before setting off further into the woods. As he ran, he lifted his hands up to his face so he could talk.

“Don’t get mad, but I’ve been keeping a few things from you. I’m going to take you somewhere. A place, hidden away even from you. Once there, I’m sure it’ll start making more sense. Oh, and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I tried to reply.

“This,” Gecko said, before squeezing me tightly in his hand. I felt like I was going to be crushed, but as he held me tightly, he lifted his arm back and threw me forward, sending me careening through the forest.

I didn’t even have time to think before a tree came into sight. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for impact, but as my body reached the tree, nothing connected. Instead, I felt the world cool down as everything darkened. That couldn’t be right. I should be two-dimensional right now, stuck to the tree like a sticker. Curious, I opened my eyes.

I was no longer in the woods. Instead, I found myself in a dark, swampy tunnel. Fluorescent mushrooms lit up the floor, revealing a small stream, while glowing insects dotted the top like stars. The entire tunnel seemed to be inside a hollow log, and as I flew forward, I fell toward the floor, and slid down the stream like the world’s most dangerous slide.

The floor disappeared, and I was airborne once more. Thankfully, however, it didn’t last for long. I touched down in a shallow pond, surrounded by tall grass. As I got my bearings, I saw I was inside a tree trunk, with only a glimmer of sunlight peeking through the crack for visibility. Fireflies danced in the air as I lay there, the only sound being the trickle of water from the stream as it splashed into the pond. There was nowhere to go.

Stranded in a tree, with no clue of any of the past events that had just happened, I did the only thing I knew to do. I hid, and for the first time, I hoped that Gecko would soon come back.here…

here…