The Heel – New! (Complete short story)

I struggle to get in a good comfortable position. I curl up into a fetal position, protecting my head with my hands. I would constantly be sent banging against the walls around me. The smell is intense but it isn’t as bad as when I was deeper into the shoe. What is worse is the movements and the constant deafening sound and vibrations around me. Susan had something very specific in mind when she shrunk me, she wanted me to suffer, that’s for sure. And she succeeded. I have a terrible headache from the constant banging and vibrations. She placed me inside the heel of her well worn high heel loafers she wears all the time. When I say “inside” the heel, I mean it. She actually peeled off the insole weeks ago and managed to stuff my half an inch minuscule body into the hollowed chunky 3 inches high heel. So yeah, I am now literally inside it. She is wearing the shoes all the time having sealed the insole with shoe glue, trapping me inside well….forever.

To make a long story short, Susan was my step-mother. I say “was” because now, after all she had done to me, I don’t consider her my step mother anymore. For me now she’s just a tormentor, a torturer, an evil woman who entrapped me and took away my life from me. She’s a 45 years old banker, top of her career, very successful. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, a body to kill for and an irresistible smile. She could have anything she wanted with that smile, but me, when she smiled to me, I got shivers running down my spine. Especially since she shrunk me a few years ago.

I’ve always asked myself why. Why would she shrink the daughter of her now dead husband. Yeah. My father married that witch a few years ago, and idiot died in a work accident. I mean, I miss my father, but I will never forgive for dying on my like that, leaving me with her, Susan. She hated me. Always did. And she managed to make me disappear after all.

No matter how much I wish things were different, they aren’t. I am inside the heel of her shoe now, sealed and trapped in there until I am too weak to actually survive. I will die in here, under her giant foot, without her caring about me. The only moments I can really find some peace is when she removes her shoes at home and leaves them on the floor of the hallway until she wears them again the next day. No matter how much I screamed in the beginning, she ignored me. Now I can’t scream anymore, my vocal chords are broken and dry from the dust. My chances of being rescued are null and void. I don’t even have tears left, having cried them all out already.

I think I’m just resigned. I gave up.

The days are always the same. Each passing day I get walked on, banged left and right, up and down, trying not to hit the inner walls of the hollow heel is futile. I can feel her massive body weight pressure on the shoe. It’s almost crying too from the abuse of such a tall and heavy woman. But the shoe is…not alive, no matter how sometimes I convince myself it is, at least to have someone or something to talk to. It’s just an object, and I am basically just part of it now, an object too.

I am in pitch black darkness all the time. Forced to smell the leather, the rubber, the glue, mixed with he transpiring odor of Susan’s foot above me, which sometimes sweat enough to make the insole completely soaked and permeate down into my prison. At least, that’s not as bad as when she had my inside the shoe under her toes. She kept me in there for weeks before having that brilliant idea to stuff me inside the heel. She said I was uncomfortable and felt like a pebble in her shoe. She sure did find a way to solve that problem, did she? Hell, she made me disappear. That’s what she did.

Oh I tried to escape. I’m not strong enough to lift or push the insole material glued over the hollow heel. I tried to pierce a hole into it, but it’s very hard leather and I think there are more than one layer of it. It is in vain.

I think I don’t have much strength in me left. I can feel the bones under my skin. I have not eaten in weeks, I am getting weaker each day. Weaker and completely crazy. I wish I could die sooner so all of this would be done with. This is my tomb, and I have to accept that I will die in here, for no reason, just because I was not loved maybe.

The end