Pretty Shoes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
In today's world, people feel unpersonable. I'm dragging my shoes through the concrete jungle every day. I'm falling, endlessly and I want to end the fall.

Submitted: November 24, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 24, 2018

A A A

A A A


Pretty Shoes

 

I’m falling; the hole is deep and seemingly endless.

Black tar seeping down the sides of the hole, it’s following me as I fall.

It grips my legs, and I shake it off.

It takes my new shoes, consuming them whole. 

Familiar faces appear from the dark goo. “Good morning,” they say concurrently. I nod in acknowledgement.

“How are you doing, dear?”

“I’m fine, mom, just tired.”

I need to stop falling; things will turn back to normal.

I see a lever, with all my might I pull it. A platform appears, and I land on my feet. The hole is closed, and I'm in a daze. The sunlight breaks through the tar-like walls. It's a new day, bright and early. Today's newspaper is thrown in front of my feet, the black ink is leaking from the sides.

 

People walking by, they stare at me. I just bought some new shoes, not to everyone’s liking. They whisper about me, judging at first sight. I step in a puddle, black water on my shoes. It's just another one of those days. I take off the wet shoes and jump in the water.

 

I'm falling, and I want it to end this time. The tar falls down the walls of the no longer bottomless hole.

It takes whatever is left of me and lets me keep on falling. Familiar faces ask what’s going on, they wouldn’t understand. 

“Nothing, I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

“Something is bothering you lately, I can tell. A mother can always tell.” The brightest face in the tar was always her. She did her best, but even she couldn’t stop the fall.

“I’m fine, really. Tomorrow will be a new day, and we’ll all wake up, bright and early.”

The brightest face disappeared from the tar, it never existed.

It follows me until the end, taking all that is left. I can see the bottom, no lever in sight, there’s no going back.

My body drops to the ground.

 

In a daze, I can hear the siren in the distance. It’s too late, mom, take care.

 

"Your daughter left a note, Mrs Marshton. Perhaps it could shed some light on this tragedy. My condolences to you.”

The detective handed her the note and bowed his head. Her eyes filled with tears before she could even finish ‘Dear mom'. She struggled to continue but wanted to understand her daughter’s actions.

‘Dear mom, I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to understand. You gave me a perfect life, and yet I always felt unfulfilled. Ultimately I felt alone in an otherwise overcrowded planet. We can do anything as a species, yet the one thing we can’t seem to do is caring for one and other. Every remark is deconstructive, black, like tar. In today's world, it feels like everyone is out to project their own negativity on to you. When you fall, no one is there to help you up, they just can't be bothered. I don't want to live in a world that covers you in its black sludge. Be strong, mother, and perhaps you can be the glimmer of light in this otherwise bleak world.

Love, Sasha.’

 

‘PS. Sorry to sound so depressing, I was trying to shed some light. Hm...funny, light, I guess I never found it. Oh, and by the way, you can have those pretty shoes you like! I’m sorry...I’m rambling, for some reason I can’t stop writing. Ok...I’m okay. Love you mom, really.’

 

THE END


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