The Escape - Chapter 5

I think the foul foot smell around me ended up dictating my mind like a powerful drug. I completely lost it. I ended up comparing pros and cons of each of my options. I even tried inventing other options, some kind of thinking my friend Simon out there was good at. I’ve considered all of them one by one. My friends. They all had that little something that made them special. I missed them. I also went into my childhood, tried to find some answers in there, in vain. I reminded my shrinking. The “business as usual” look on her face when she shrunk me. I was just caught. I ever asked myself if this, all of this, what was happening to me, was in fact the inevitable outcome of fate itself. Was I actually destined to be … underfoot? As miserable and unfortunate as it sounded, maybe…

Just maybe….

Nah. I wanted to go back to my friends.

Nobody in their right mind would choose a life of servitude and slavery, especially not one that would be spent licking foot sweat off dirty feet and shoes, and being worn inside them all the time, soaking in foot sweat, and being trodded and trampled, crushed almost to death every step and get pounded over and over again like if I meant nothing at all, and that my suffering would actually make someone happy. A girl I barely knew, who just lost her boyfriend, and actually had a powertrip going on? Nobody would choose that…. Right?

I mean, I could accept that I failed to save them all. I could go back to the Box at the shoe repair shop and eventually Simon would want me to try again, that “everyone is different, this time the girl will help, blah blah blah…” Damn, I can almost hear him. But then…I wondered. After all, going back could be the worse option. What if she actually just kills me and replaces me with someone else, or even worse, torture my friends or kill them and replace them. That woman at the shoe repair shop, had absolutely no sympathy for any of us. She could shrink more. That would eventually lead to more victims. Choosing to go back and see my friends again, was actually condemning myself and many more to suffer a fate I could not wish anyone to suffer. Going back to my friends, was risking their lives.

At this point I was completely screwed.

That’s just the simple version of my dilemma. No need to talk about the fact that as soon as the woman would discover that I was gone from the box she would probably replace me and/or torture and kill my friends and replace them. Which could have already happened by now. Sadly enough, my failure was condemning them anyway. At this point, I couldn’t help but think that after all, they were on their own. Going back, would just be suicide.

Celia shook, maybe kicked, accidentally or not, the sneaker I was in and I went flying and crashing against the shoe’s inner wall violently.

“Wake up!” I heard from above. Nope, not an accident.

I quickly panicked. That felt like the real, true option that I had left before having to choose. The sock was pulled out and light poured in as well as fresh air that I practically gagged on. It felt so good. I was… air thirsty.

“Lisa, are you in there still?” Celia said. I walked into the light. “Ah there you are. Perfect. Now just lay down in your little insole bed.” I frowned and looked at the insole. That’s right, I was in that very shoe I escaped in.

“Please…no…” I pleaded.

“We’re going for your favorite thing Lisa. Jogging. So it’s either in that hole, or under my toes. Up to you.” She said, standing up. She walked away. I had only time to see she already had some jogging outfit on. I lost contact with my legs. Panic was too powerful. I had to move, do something. I quickly crawled into my hole, under the insole, my little coffin they smuggled me into. Jogging again, oh no. Better be in the spot I knew was safe. I wiggled myself inside and waited.

Waited for her to come back. And I knew she would. I knew exactly what was going to happen and how. I built up to pre-traumatic stress.

“You can tell me your decision once we come back.” Celia said, walking back above the sneaker. Then the impressive force of the giantess’ foot rushed into the old shoe above me, settling in place and taking almost every piece of air out. It was so massive, so powerful, the shoe was molding around it perfecting at its mercy and me inside, under it. My heart beat reached blood rush levels.

I heard and felt Celia tie up the laces.