The Escape - Short conclusion

“I huh…” I hesitated. I was about to make the most important life decision. Celia just plucked me out of her sweat soaked sneaker after jogging for miles over me. I was lightheaded and dizzy. I had time to make up my mind. Having to choose between two distinct futures and both were bad options. I decided that since I had escaped, it was maybe better to never go back to the shoe repair shop. “I will be your footslave.” I said.

“Didn’t hear you.” Celia said.

“I will be your footslave.” I said a little bit louder.

“See, that wasn’t hard.” She said back, looking at me with evil stare. “You like my feet do you?”

“No I don’t. I just cannot go back to the shoe repair shop. It would place my friends in terrible danger, if they are not already in trouble that’s all.” I said back.

“You’re very brave, and I guess, it sounds like you are a very kind person.” Celia told me, dangling me in front of her face. “I almost feel bad about putting you in my shoes now.” She looked down at her feet. I had no idea what she had in her mind just like that after jogging. I barely knew anything about that girl I was suddenly committing my miserable shrunken life to. She wasn’t bad looking, but she looked like she didn’t care much about me, except that moment when she dangled me and looked at me. “Alright. So, you’ll live in my sneaker, in that little space you carved yourself. You’ll be in there all the time. You’ll get out only when I take you out. You’ll live under my foot for as long as I want. I want you to appreciate my foot sweat, and you’ll learn to love being crushed by me. I don’t want you to ever talk to me anymore. I have other things to do in life than take care about a tiny fucker like you. If you try to escape it’s at your own perils, but Mr Cuddles will probably catch you and eat you. When my sneakers will be too trashed to wear anymore, I’ll put you in the next pair and you’ll continue to live under my foot.” She stopped and sighed. “It’s too bad what happened to you, you seemed to be a good person, but for me you’re nothing more than my personal footslave.”

And then she lowered me down into the sneaker, pulled up the insole and stuffed me under it, where I belong, my coffin, my little living space carved out the size of my tiny body.

Celia then walked away. It was the beginning of my new life. I cried. Nobody cared.

The end