Chapter #7Nothing happens... by: carnaj   You scream as your mother slips the toe section of her old, back leather flat over your head and what little of your tiny upper body that is visible above your sister's titanic hand. Your upper arms are pinned by Isabel's spread fingers but your forearms thrash as you beat wildly against the shoe that is slowly engulfing you. You can hear your sister's laughter as she holds you tight against the pillows on her bed - held tight at your mother's own request - as the light in the bedroom fades again and your senses start to reel.
The smell of your mother's old shoe is overwhelming as it becomes your world; far worse than your sister's feet and socks or even her old raggedy canvas high-top. You know these are your mother, Linda's favorite shoes, which she wears around the house and even outside when she can. She's had them for years and they're weathered and worn; frayed around the sole and ratty and ragged on the inside. But worst of all is the smell.
Your mother either ignores it or is oblivious but even your sister had commented on the stench when your mother slips her feet from the old flats. Your mother often laughed it off and even joked once or twice about using her shoes as punishment when you or Isabel were especially deserving. Thankfully it had never come to that, at least until now.
You squirm as you feel your mother increasing the pressure, making certain that you are totally enveloped by her malodorous shoe. All your screaming has made it impossible to escape as you are forced to draw in the horrible smell to regain your breath. You start to feel dizzy and weak from your struggles and lack of fresh air. Slowly the fight drains out of you, little by little as the horrid stench takes its toll.
Then almost as suddenly as it began you feel the huge, smelly shoe lifted away. Fresh air washes over you again as you watch through bleary, tear-filled eyes as the giant flat floats up and away with an almost surreal grace until it disappears from your sight. Your gaze shifts to Isabel who is still kneeling on the bed in front of you. Her hand is still holding you down but the pressure has eased allowing you to breathe the blessed fresh air. The look on her pretty face seems almost disappointed.
"Nothing..."
Movement to your right and you see your now huge mother looking to the floor and shifting her leg. Somewhere in the back of your mind you recognize the movements as she slips her foot back into her smelly flat, then returns her attention to you. You know you must look pathetic shrunken to six-inches and still easily held in place by your eight-year-old sister's hand pressed casually against your chest. You're sweating and weak and almost sobbing both from their abuse as well as the joy of every breath of fresh air you draw; glad that your torment finally seems to have come to an end.
"I guess he's reached his limit," your mother Linda says as she leans closer again. You shiver as her hand swoops in and close your eyes fearing the worst but then feel the weight of Isabel's hand lift off of your chest. Tentatively you open your eyes to see your frowning sister and your mother watching you intently; your mother's hand still hovering nearby. Expecting the worst you whimper and scrunch back into the pillow drawing your knees up to your chest.
"P-Please..." you look up beseeching, "No more...". You plead and hold yourself tighter. You can half-expect and understand how your little sister would take advantage of you when you're like this; she's young and thinks it's all a game. But you can't understand how your own mother can seem so indifferent to your situation.
"Shh..." your mother soothes. You cower and whimper again as her hand moves in, her huge finger brushing your arm. The hand is quick to recede however as Linda appears to realize that she is not helping you at all. You open your eyes again to see her standing tall once more with her hands on her hips. She's staring down at you with knitted brows and her lips pursed and you know that she's deep in thought. A quick glance to your sister who has leaned back on her heels shows almost the identical expression, though you doubt they are thinking the same things.
"Are you hurt, David?" your mother finally says, her voice loud and booming to your tiny ears.
"I'm shrunk!" you shout as anger suddenly bubbles up within you. You hear your sister giggle at that revelation and even your mother's lips curl at the corner in a tiny smirk.
"We know that, Dear," she says patronizingly in that special sarcastic way that only mothers know so well. "What I meant was; are you in pain?"
You look into your mother's dark, piercing eyes and finally shake your head from side to side knowing that she cannot possibly hear your feeble, whispered 'No...'.
"Well, that's something at least," she says with a little lift of approval in her voice. You gasp as her building-sized body shifts again and she suddenly sinks to her knees beside the bed. You hear the massive 'THOOM' of impact, which only seems loud to you apparently, and you even feel the bed tremor a bit.She leans in and folds her arms on the edge of the bed as she stares at you; her face looming large as it is now closer than ever.
"I'm sorry we did that to you, David," she continued and you could see that she did appear regretful to some extent. Unfortunately confusion was present as well, and fascination and perhaps even a little bit of... amusement? "But we had to find out
"People just don't shrink. David. I came in here and found you a foot tall with your sister on top of you. What was I supposed to think?"
"You could have stopped her!" you shout pointing at Isabel, your anger growing. "You didn't have to experiment on me! God! What if I'd shrunk away to nothing and disappeared? How'd you feel then, Mom?"
You see your mother frown as she settles back on her heels, her face drifting back a bit. She looks cross and annoyed for a moment, then seems to relax again.
"It had to be done, David. I'm going to get you help, but first I needed to find out just how you are shrinking and why. I'm not going to be laughed out of the doctor's office because I'm delusional thinking you shrink! Isabel said it was her feet, and that seems to be the case. You've both been blunt about the stench of my shoes; way worse than Isabel's feet, but my smell didn't dwindle you a millimeter. So it appears that it's only in Isabel's power to make you smaller; her or the smell of her feet, shoes and socks. Either that or maybe you've reached your limit. You seem to be about six-inches now, and maybe that's as small as you go."
"I dunno, Mom," Isabel finally interjected. You looked at her young, pretty face and saw a devilish smile on her lips, that mischievous twinkle in her eyes again as she leaned closer. "When I had the sock on him it felt... Well... It felt like I had power; like I could shrink him forever."
You pale to see the evil grin on your little sister's face. Turning to your mother for support you see that same look of concentration she had before; her mind speeding as she contemplated what to do. Movement to your left and you see Isabel wadding her sock up in her right hands just out of your mother's line of sight behind her body.
"Mom! No..." you cry out and scramble from the false safety of the pillows. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realize that you are still naked, but you don't care as you crawl forward and drop to your knees before your mother raising your hands in supplication with tears in your eyes. Your voice cracks: "Mom... Please... Not again..."
Your mother's gaze shifts between you and Isabel for just a moment before focusing on you again. You see her bite her lower lip as she thinks a moment longer then finally nods." Isabel..."
You hear your sister squeal in glee and see her arm shooting forward; the foul, dreaded sock balled up in her gigantic fist. You scream and start to crawl away as quick as you can aimlessly heading for the edge of the bed.
"No!" your mother's voice booms. "Give me the sock."
Aww, I can do it!" your sister whines as you keep crawling. You don't care who does it; you just don't want it done.
"No! I have to see if it's you, or your smell or what. I have to see if he's reached a shrunken limit." you see your mother's left hand suddenly swoop in like a bird of prey ready to scoop you up. Instead her index finger flicks out and her pink, painted nail flicks you in the chest. You tumble end over end to land on your back, dazed and unable to catch your breath again. your mother leans in...
"Give me your sock."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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