The pain was unbearable for Billy. He felt as if his chest was being crushed under a giant weight, his lungs screaming for air as his head pounded in agony. He tried to wriggle and squirm, but it was no use. With every step his mother took, it felt like a giant's foot was stomping down on him, driving the breath from his body and the air from his lungs. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the roughness of her soles against his own, and the sharp sting of each impact as her heel dug into his flesh.
Tears welled up in his eyes, streaming down his face as he lay helpless beneath her, his cries of pain muffled by the carpet. He tried to summon the strength to push her away, to escape her relentless assault, but his strength was quickly ebbing. His vision began to blur, his body growing numb from the pain and the lack of air. He felt himself drifting away, his consciousness slipping away from him like grains of sand through his fingers.
Just as he thought he could bear it no longer, a strange sensation came over him. It was as if someone had suddenly lifted the weight from his chest, allowing his ribcage to expand and his lungs to fill with air once more. He gasped, sucking in great, ragged breaths as his body fought to recover from the onslaught. The pressure on his back and shoulders eased, and he felt his mother's foot leave his body. For a brief moment, he thought he might be free, but then a sharp pain shot through his leg as she took another step, crushing his ankle beneath her weight.
Billy winced, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He tried to move, to crawl away from her, but his body felt so weak and numb. He could feel her foot pressing down on his leg now, grinding into his flesh with each step. He wanted to scream, to beg her to stop, but no sound would come out. He lay there, helpless and in agony, as his mother continued her daily routine, unaware of the suffering she was inflicting on her own son.
As she walked towards the sink, Patricia absentmindedly reached down to steady herself with her free hand. She felt something soft and yielding beneath her foot, but paid it no mind. She was too focused on her task, too intent on getting ready for work. Little did she know, it was her precious boy's body that she was using as a slipper, his fragile form crushed and battered beneath her weight.
Billy felt a new surge of pain as his mother's foot pressed down on his side, grinding his ribs into the carpet. He tried to twist away, to shift his weight, but it was no use. He felt helpless and trapped, like a small animal caught in a snare. His eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were not just from the pain. They were tears of despair, of hopelessness, of the realization that his mother did not love him, that she would never save him from this living hell.
As she reached the sink, Patricia paused for a moment, leaning over to splash some water on her face. The cool liquid felt good against her skin, but it did nothing to ease the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her.
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