Running out toward the hand, you start to wildly wave your arms over your head, and scream as loud as you can. Not that you can get that loud, considering your size, still, them movement, while the person is looking down, is more than enough to attract their attention, as they stare down at your tiny form, and then gasp in shock, pulling back their hand like they thought you were poisonous or something, and then stumbling back into someone else.
Of course, this meant they probably thought you were a bug, which meant you should run for cover as fast as you possibly could. Unfortunately for you, however, the hand they had been holding their change in opened up, and with that open palm came coins flying everywhere, loose bits of change slamming to the ground all about you, seemingly with enough force behind them that they could smash you into a flat little smear on the tile, making your scream even more frantic as you ran for cover, only to trip on a fault in a tile.
And thus are you doomed, as a quarter rolls toward you, the face of the nation's first president spinning as it comes closer, and closer, until, at last, it hits you. You would expect there to be pain, and lots of it, but with shock, you feel nothing from it. Rather, there is a moment where you can sense a great weight, and then there is nothing below your waist. This fact makes you reluctant to open your eyes, as you lay there on the tile, feeling a warm puddle forming beneath you, but at last, you have no choice but to look.
What you see is....well, exactly what you expected. Your waist has been severed cleanly. A small line of smashed flesh still exists where your pelvis and everything was, and below that you can see your legs, twitching a little even after being cut off from you, as between the two parts a small river of blood is already beginning to run to the floor, the warm puddle coming out of there, as you simply stare incredulously at the remains of your body.
You don't get to stare long, however, as a shadow soon comes over you, and you turn your head from the horrific scene, to stare upward right into the skirt of some girl, who where's flat soled shoes. "Oh, poor buggie. He lost half his body. I suppose it wouldn't be right to let you try and live like that," says her voice, still sweet and rich, if very deep to your tiny ears, as the shock takes any edge off her tone. Smiling up at her, you almost seem to nod as her foot comes to fill your sky.
The flat sole means there is little time as her weight crashes down upon you. Even the pain killing properties of adrenaline aren't enough now to block the whole of the experience, though it's not too bad. Your ribs take the first brunt of the assault, your head being turned, so a few nano-meters shorter. Her weight crashes down on them like a titan, snapping them all at once, and sending them through you, long sharp points tearing into your inside, ripping through your organs, as shrapnel is sent everywhere, literally shredding your internal organs, adding to the pool of blood beneath you.
Your head goes next, and for a moment, you feel the enormous pressure of her mass on it, stretching it out as she smashes down on your hard, causing your eyes to bulge, your nose to bleed, and soon, your tongue to fall out as the blood vessel behind it bursts, giving you one instant of intense agony, before everything goes dark. You aren't conscious as she twists her heel, and you become a smear, unrecognizable as a human, on the sole of her foot, which is then cleaned off with a napkin, and thrown into the trash, where little bugs like you belong.
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