Brad clenches his fist, and you feel him begin to walk. With all that's in you, you desperately want to escape from his hand, but unfortunately you are unable to move in this state. You must simply endure the warm, sweaty hand of your former friend.
You can hear his footsteps as he descends the stairs and as he walks down the hall. You hear a door open and very softly shut behind him.
"Where has he taken me?" you wonder to yourself
The fingers strech open and your eyes squint as they adjust to the bright light. You look around and it only takes a momant to realize where you are: his father's room.
The room is fairly neat, and their is a faint smell in the air, a musky, manly odor. His father Glenn was in his early 50s, and were it not for his having sons your age, you'd never guess he was over 35. He was a disciplined, hardworking CEO, and wanted his sons to be the same. This fact made him deeply upset that Brad would choose a friend as lazy and irresponsible as you were. He took every available opportunity to make it known how he felt about you. At your normal size, he always made you feel small and insignificant. You couldn't imagine seeing him now.
"What on earth are we doing in here, man?" you ask, your voice a little shaky, worried about what his answer would be.
He raises his palm to his face, and his reply is mixed with humid, smelly breath which washes over you. "I thought of the perfect mission for you, it's just for a guy your size."
Your brow furls, as you try to make sense of what he said. "Listen, you know how he feels about me. I don't want to be in here, and the last thing I want is to be anywhere near your dad at this size.. There's no telling what he'd do to me!"
"You're right. It's best if he doesn't know you're here. That's why I won't tell him about you."
You exhale a sigh of relief.
"..but you're still going to be spending some time with him, however."
Brad walks toward the closet, and slides the door open. From his hand you see his dad's clothes hanging neatly, and the floor lined with many pairs of nice dress shoes. Over to the side you see a very old, and very abused pair of running shoes. They had certainly seen better days.
"It's almost 6, which means dad will be going for his evening run" he says, reaching for the old running shoes. They're very large, probably 13s, if not bigger. He pulls them from the closet and sets them down on the floor.
"Yeah, dad's had these bad boys for years. He says he's never had a pair fit as good, or give him the right support. Tommy and I are always complaining when he kicks them off, because they really reek. Maybe if you spent some time in there and experienced it first hand, you could explain it to him."
You try to wrap your mind around his words.. This doesn't make any sense! Why would your friend do this to you, subject you to this?
Your thoughts are cut short as his hand lifts over the opening of his right shoe.
"NO! You can't do this to me, Brad! I'm your friend! There's no way you can be serious!" you scream, but your pleas for mercy are met with a smirk as suddenly the hand is tilted and you fall into the shoe.
The interior of the shoe is like nothing you've ever experienced. The plush insole makes for a soft landing, but a bit of old sweat squishes up onto you. You take a deep breath after the fall, only to regret it. You cough and sputter.
The smell-- oh, god, the smell. There was a current of old, stale odor under the newer, more obvious stench. It was dank, and seemed to be ingrained in every fiber of the shoe. There was no way to escape it, no way to lessen its unending assault on your tiny nose.
You can see just how worn out these sneakers are. The insole is tattered and coming up in places. It evidently had once been white, but now is graying, and covered in lint. There is a large crater where his heel had pounded the shoe after years of running.
You look up to see Brad laughing hard at you. "Dang, dude. That's hilarious. There's no amount of money that would make me trade spots with you, especially when he puts them on. Whew."
You watch as his hands reach in and push you deeper into the inner recesses of the cavernous shoe. The air is thicker here, and the odor more pungent.
"What are you doing!" you cry out.
"I don't want him to crush you under his heel. You'll be a little safer down there with his toes." he replies, still laughing.
He sticks the shoe back into the closet with its mate, and shuts the door. You can only wait anxiously until Glenn comes back.
Not ten minutes later, you hear footsteps and the door slides open. You feel the shoes being lifted, and then lowered back to the ground.
Here it is: the moment you've been dreading. You watch in utter fear and horror as his huge toes lower into the shoe....
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