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Kelly Haunts Me 2 - NEW! - Intro
🕑 Added 2020-05-12 13:34:12 +0000 UTC“Hmm, I’ll be sleeping under your running shoes tonight…if you look for me.” I say, nodding, mostly to myself and walking backwards. I know she will not be looking for me.
“Okay, Mrs. Allen. Thanks again for listening.” Kelly says, giving me a smile and adjusting her wide rim glasses. She is now as beautiful as ever, 23 years old, sitting in her bed, almost ready to sleep. Her long brown hair like a calm sea are flowing down freely, she just undone her ponytail. She grabs a book on her bedside table. Maybe some reading before sleep. I think she’s been enjoying that book so far.
I walk backwards, then I turn around and make my way down the carpet room into the closet. I takes a while, but I am used to walk that distance even if I am tiny. I slip myself inside, the doors were not fully closed, just a slim entrance into the dark closet I use to spend a lot of time into. Practically my home now that Kelly’s been owning me for a good 6 years. She grew up so much. Brilliant, good hearted, funny, open minded…she is growing up a fine woman and since she had started university, she was even more careful about everything, some wisdom kicked in. A real beautiful accomplished early twenties woman. One I wished I could have become. But that is a futile dream.
So…as tiny as I am…I walk to the running shoes. I remember when I first met Kelly she had those. They were trashed. She never wanted to neither get rid of them, nor stop wearing them. They smell a good 10 inches all around. The Asics logo had faded, the sole is over used. I love them. Even in the darkness of their confines where the smell is so powerful.
Kelly never gave up on me. Despite not talking to me as much as I would like, every other night she talks to me. Usually, she starts by asking me if I am happy. If my time under her foot was enjoyable, if I had a good day. Sometimes she is more into it and asks me how her feet smelled, to which I always answer “like perfection.” I enjoy that small talk about me, making sure I am alright, me the tiny woman in her shoes. But then she talks about herself. And all she says makes sense. She tells me how school is hard, how that girl or that guy, mostly her friends, did or did not do this or that. She would tell me everything, like one talking to their psychologist. I assume that role whenever she lets me, I enjoy hearing her talk about herself and her real life more than when she talks about me. And then, when she has no more things to say, she wishes me goodnight. I retire into her closet where I usually stay and sleep, awaiting the next day to be crushed under her feet again.
Tonight is a calm night. Kelly would read her book and then sleep.
Never in all those years Kelly has ever made me feel like a burden. She’s always been happy to let me be her foot friend and the deal with her family was never questioned. I paid her studies with the remaining of my life’s earned money, and I was to be treated well, with care, and worn inside her shoes most of the time when possible. Sometimes, Kelly’s mother Cynthia wears me inside her house mules, just because she wants to, or when she thinks Kelly should focus on studies a little more, during exams times for instance. All in all, everything has been so perfect, so well rounded and fun. I’ve never had so much fun in my whole disastrous life. This young woman Kelly gave me purpose.
But things that go too well always end up screwing up, don’t they?
Sometimes I get that looming feeling and stomach upset because I know it has been too perfect for my own good. I am always expecting things to turn upside down, some event that would make Kelly change her mind about me or unable to keep me small. Fact is, now that it has been so long, I simply cannot go back to normal life at a normal size. It is gone now, that life. Gone and over. I kind of have a 6th sense that makes me able to detect Kelly’s emotions through her movements or odor or unconscious little things she does when she wears me inside her shoes. But lately it has been harder to interpret those signals. I even sometimes feel responsible for Kelly being still single, or still living at her parent’s place. She had boyfriends, assholes for what I can recall, trying to have sex with her only because she’s beautiful. Boys…I am not fond of them honestly. I don’t know, something is going on, and I can’t put my finger on it. I have a bad feeling that everything will blow up in my face. Like if all those years were already due for something bad to happen, that has been the way of my life. 6 years of pure happiness isn’t normal.
Yes. I fear. Paranoia maybe. Uncontrollable for sure.
That’s why I say Kelly haunts me. I mean, she loves me, she cares for me, she makes me laugh, she makes me happy, she makes me feel important sometimes, but she also haunts me because I always feel like I am with a goddess that allows me to be with her and could change her mind at any time. She is way out of my league, whatever league I compete in. At any moment she could revoke these privileges and ditch me, regrow me to normal size and tell me it’s over. I’ve grown so fond of her, so admirative. I simply could not live through rejection if it ever happens. I’ve been growing older, and she has been too, things do not last forever. I am being haunted day and night by this fear of reaching the end of the adventure, the dead end of the long road we walked together, literally.
Every single moment I am with Kelly I cherish it like if it is the last.
I give the rotten sneakers a kiss and hug from the side. Then I crawl under the dirty worn out sole, in the darkness of the closet and I imagine myself being crushed by Kelly, my haunting goddess. What did she say again about tomorrow? Right, Saturday, she will probably sleep late. I am glad she is still a great ballet dancer and soccer player, she kept going with those two activities along with her jogging. I think tomorrow morning is ballet practice around 10 AM. I am falling asleep under those sneakers even if my paranoid mind wanders away.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping in this position, but then, the door of the closet is opened slowly, air rushes around, the shoes are removed from on top of me, I am exposed on Kelly’s closet floor, and she’s there. It’s in the middle of the night, she sits in semi darkness.
“Psst, Mrs. Allen, wake up.” She whispers, putting her old sneakers aside. I shake my head, I look at her beautiful face only lit by the faint night light plugged in the nearest wall outlet.
“Yes? Kelly, is there a problem?” I ask. This is unusual from her to actually wake me up like this in the middle of the night.
“I can’t sleep.” She says. Her long brown hair falling down on each sides of her head, she replaces them behind her ears.
“What is troubling you, my dear?” I say. She leans in forward to make sure she can hear me well. After all those years, we know how to make things simpler.
“Tomorrow is my graduation and I owe it to you, Mrs. Allen. You paid for my bachelor’s degree and now I have finally done it.” She says. My heart almost cracks in half. That’s right. Her graduation, how could I have been so blind and forget. Maybe I’ve been way too focused on Kelly’s feet and shoes over the years. How could I forget that? She’s been trying on dresses all week long and I’ve been rating high heel choices. I know exactly what is going on tomorrow, I’m not going to ballet practice like every Saturday, it’s her graduation.
“I am very proud of you Kelly. You owe me nothing, I assure you. I get my free back massages shrunken therapy daily!” I try to sound funny and reassuring at the same time. She chuckles silently and smiles.
“With my stinky feet.” She whispers and chuckles some more. “But, jokes aside, Mrs. Allen, I want to give you something. I owe you so much, I want to do something special for you, to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” She pauses. “Since we met, my life has changed for the better, Mrs. Allen.”
“So did mine, young lady, so did mine.” I say, that part totally true.
“I really want to repay you somehow, by doing something special, you know…. But I don’t know what I can offer you. I’ve been thinking a lot, but every time I end up thinking my ideas are not enough.”
“Kelly, my dear. You are the sweetest person I know. But… You don’t have to give me anything, you owe me nothing. I am as happy as ever and I cannot ask for more than what you already give me every day.” I say. Poor girl, how is it possible she ended up thinking she owes me anything? Because there is money involved, maybe. I’ve been paying a lot of money for those studies.
“But you’re getting old, Mrs. Allen. You turned 51 recently but you look like you turned 81, honestly, this scares me and I would like to do something special for you before you…you know…before you pass away.” She says.
I am dumbfounded. I didn’t see that coming. I look at my hands, yes I have old lady skin but that doesn’t mean I am old. 51 is not old, I have plenty of life left.
“I have read some scientific articles and talked with the molecular science department friend of mine, he’s great by the way, cool guy, but he has a girlfriend, anyway, it seems like prolonged shrunken state makes one… age faster. I mean, I know we should have known before, but nobody really spends their whole life shrunken except maybe you and a few other clinical studies. There is not a lot of documentation on this I am afraid. I did search a lot, Mrs. Allen, I swear, I did all the researches.” Kelly was trying to fill the silence created by my own stupefaction. I see now why she couldn’t sleep. Something huge was on her mind and she needed to unload it.
She continues to talk in the background, I am absent-minded, and I do not listen to her for the first time since I met her. Did I age quicker because of my shrunken state? Hell, I’ve been having memory issues and yeah, my body took a hit but… is that true? I… have hard time believing what I hear. Poor Kelly must have been completely stressed about it, seeing me age so fast.
“…And you know, I’ll miss you when it happens, and I don’t want it to happen any time soon either, but facts are facts and…” she continues to whisper all what troubles her, letting everything out. From what I understand she’s been in hard-to-control anxiety about the fact she could potentially lose me. I felt heart warmed but also she dumped that anxiety on me now, how could I have not seen this coming? My own death is coming at me sooner than expected and I have not been thinking about it at all over the years. I’ve been smelling feet, that’s what I’ve been doing. Not…worrying. “Whew I feel better now that this is out of my system, you know, Mrs. Allen, you and I have come a long way now. You’ve been living in my shoes for so long, and, while I’d keep you forever, like I said when you decided to shrink yourself for good, I…I simply can’t. Nothing lasts forever. You understand?”
I nod. “Yes. I understand, Kelly.” I smile, abused by words, abused by concepts of death. I don’t know how to feel. There is glimpse of frustration trying to boil me up, but I am keeping cold by the absurdity of getting mad over something I do not and cannot control. We all die, that’s inexorable. I knew something was wrong, Kelly’s been acting a lot more caring lately and I had that gut feeling something wasn’t right. Now I know what it is, and it is not what I thought it would be. She could have found a boyfriend, a good man to marry and get rid of me. She could have gotten in a car accident, or grew tired of having me inside her shoes but no. The problem is me. I am getting older by the minute, and my time is almost up it seems.
“I’ll do something special for you Mrs. Allen. I really want to…you know, thank you for all you’ve done, but not just with words. I want to make you as happy as possible before our adventure together is over. God, I’ll miss feeling your tiny body under my feet all the time.” She explains. I nod. This time I do not object to the fact she wants to do something for me. I just… nod, and I accept.
“Okay, Kelly. Let’s first celebrate your graduation tomorrow and then, maybe we can think about something to do to celebrate….hmm…” I don’t know how to finish my sentence.
“You. Celebrate you!” she completes.
“Yeah…well, sure…okay Kelly.” I say in the middle of the night. She smiles, her beautiful face lit by the night lite, her pyjamas way too big for her, she replaces her hair behind her ears again and smiles. What an angel.
“Alright, I’ll get some sleep now. You think about what you’d like me to do for you, and I’ll do the same and we share our ideas later okay? I am sorry I didn’t want to trouble you but you know, I… I had to tell you, it’s been so stressful and all…” she said.
“No problem Kelly, go rest, sleep well and we’ll talk about this some more later.” I say.
“Okay.” She says. She picks up her old sneaker and places them back where they were, on me. “Nighty night Mrs. Allen.” She stood back up and went to bed, leaving me under her shoe where she initially found me. The old rubber smell is back all over my body, along with her foot sweat from years of abuse. I am cold. Terribly cold. I feel like I am going to be sick in my head. Time flew by so fast I completely lost track. I am an old lady now. An old pathetic shrunken lady that could be her grandmother. When I met her I was old enough to be her mother and now, time and permanent shrunken state has taken their toll on me.
Ironically, Kelly was a flower in blossom, celebrating her academic accomplishments and me, I was just an old tiny woman, soon going to celebrate one last time. I have a hard time picturing myself dying, but I cannot do nothing but trust Kelly on this one. It’s not like I would go out and read that information about aging fast when shrunk. I have to trust her. She did her researches, and I know she is a disciplined person, not reading fake news. She is thinking with a very keen judgement. How does one think of what they want to do before it’s too late? I don’t have a bucket list. Some say everything is a matter of perspectives, yet, how can one defy facts…especially the ones leading to death? I had some thinking to do.
Lots of it.
