Futility.

Parker, at many times during his life, had contemplated death.  Death, from his perspective, was the only escape.  Why would he think otherwise?  Life had never been kind to him.  From his only love cheating on him to ending up working for shitty Patricia at the event planning company, there was never a happy ending for Parker.  He would never off himself – not because he ultimately thought better of it, but because he was too afraid.  This state of perpetual emptiness crippled him, his days insufferable and his nights lonely.

You know what the sick thing is?  In some crazy, inexplicable way, Parker was happy that he was shrunken by the Amazon’s drug.  Despite the obvious shortcomings of the situation, the drug gave Parker value.  It gave him a life.  He was forced to stand up for himself, get over his ex-girlfriend, ease the stress of a heartbroken teenager, and ultimately, fight for his life.  After all of the stress, tears, pain, and suffering, Parker was finally living.

But this was taken away.  Just like his girlfriend, his self-respect, and his dreams.  Out of all of the disappointments in his life, this one bit the hardest.  Ava’s mistake of interacting with the popular girls, Katie and Claire, proved to be fatal.  After Katie stole him from Ava, she ruthlessly kicked her out of the car, leaving her to find her own way back to school.

Katie was the wrong person to cross paths with Parker.  Now that Colleen had mysteriously disappeared, Katie finally able to emerge from her domineering shadow of the most adored, desired, and popular girl in the school.  She secretly hated Colleen, who for the most part treated her like a piece of trash throughout their schooling.  She aced every test and won every guy.  But not anymore, Colleen vanished at the perfect time, allowing Katie to fulfill her dreams.  How could she do this?

She found her answer cowering in Ava’s purse. 

Parker was her golden ticket.  Staging a grand platform to degrade Ava and showcase what she believed to be the scummy victim of drug abuse would be the perfect vehicle for her to receive the attention that she desperately needed.  This platform?  The party that she was hosting that weekend, where she would have her precious audience. 

Katie was going to leave high school on top.

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Death was on Parker’s mind as he paced through the contents of Katie’s disheveled dresser drawer.  The insides of the barely-open drawer were illuminated by the springtime sunshine creeping through Katie’s window.  She had hastily tossed him into the drawer before she left for track practice or some other extracurricular activity, spewing arrogant promises of “fun” for when she returned.

For the first time in his life, Parker’s mind was slowing down.  He was growing numb.  Meandering through the drawer, Parker came across an unreasonably large pair of pink panties.  His eyes scanned the vast surface of the undergarment, the letters “P I N K” proudly spread across the backside.  His amplified feelings of smallness and inferiority now a given, Parker shook his head and walked the other way.  

Parker approached a pair of light green ankle socks lazily passing time in his newest prison.  Oddly enough, he imagined that this was the first pair of clean footwear that he had encountered in the last couple of days.  He chuckled, his brain a cavern of white noise.  Before walking closer to the imposing mound of cotton, he counted the years of damage that the feet of their bratty owner must have endured.  He saw five grey bruises of time in the toe area of each sock, and other larger ones on the heels and where the ball of her foot would lay.  He took a few steps closer, the socks looming high above his forgotten form.  From here, Parker could see little rips and tears in the socks, eternal scars from constant pulling and stretching from Katie’s bullying feet.  He was now within arm’s length of the monstrous footwear, the faint smell of detergent and fabric softener in the air.  He reached out and felt the colorful cotton, wondering when the sock’s last battle was, and how it fared against the pressure, sweat, and abuse from Katie.  Parker wondered if it would ever give up, or if it even had a choice.

*SLAM*

Parker was viciously jarred out of his observations with the bang of a door. 

“Liiiittle freak…?” Katie whispered, approaching the drawer.  She tugged open the drawer, revealing her most prized doll since the days of her youth.  “There you are!  What have you been doing while I’ve been gone?”

Parker remained mute, staring wide-eyed at the teenager, whose blonde hair was tied back and was wearing a red tank top, apparently having returned from track or cross country practice; Parker didn’t care to distinguish which.  He knew that fate was about to subject him to another beating.  Katie mockingly raised her eyebrows at him.

“Too scared to talk?  Alright, well let’s get to it then!  I promised you that we would have fun together, didn’t I?”  Katie reached towards the cringing adult next to her old green socks, sarcastically adding, “I mean, I owe you a good time, right?  You are helping me finally reach my rightful place this weekend.  It would be a waste to coop you up until then.”  With a feigned loving smile, she pinched Parker between her colossal fingertips, dropping him at the end of her plush bed.  She plopped herself on the other end, her powerful butt causing a miniature earthquake for Parker on the bed.

“So, Claire and I talked ALL track practice on what funny things I could do to you without actually killing you or some shit, because I need you for now.  We couldn’t think of anything until we finished practice and we went back to the locker room.  When I was changing from my track spikes back to my tennis shoes, she made a rude comment about how much my feet stunk.  I was pretty pissed at her, until her face lit up and she was like, ‘How disgusting would it be if he was by your feet while they’re like that?!’  I thought she was a freak at first, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about it!  Like you can’t be any bigger than my big toe, right?!  That’s SO funny!”  Talking a mile a minute, Katie was clearly getting excited by the prospect of being able to dominate another human being, much like she felt for most of her friendship with Colleen.

Instead of the usual hair-raising anxiety, Parker felt physically sick, Katie’s words inducing the early stages of a fainting spell.  His chest rapidly raised up and down, his thoughts empty but his dread insurmountable.

He saw her slip off her neon-colored Nike tennis shoes, revealing a pair of hungry toes encased in black socks, waiting for their victim.  Parker gagged, his stomach swelling in anticipation.

“Ewww,” Katie fussed, peeling off the sock on her left foot.  “This is actually really gross.  Coach had us run intervals today – they SUCK.  You wouldn’t know that, right?  You were probably a piece of shit in high school, judging by how you ended up…hehe.”  Katie stared at her sock with newfound curiosity, the weight of the situation finally starting to dawn on her immature mind.  She was a goddess.  Every move, every word, every smell, every sight would turn his world upside-down.  A rush of adrenaline permeated her brain, destroying every inhibition and all rationality.  A barely noticeable grin painted itself on her face.  She was in control now.

“Before we start…Let’s see how bad these really are.”  Dangling her sock from her fingers, Katie reached over and dangled the black cloud of footwear over the microscopic man.  She lowered it until it lightly rested on his fidgeting form.

“Ack!  Fuck!”  Parker gagged again, almost fully throwing up this time.  The smell was the worst he had encountered thus far, the sweat-soaked socks forming a tent of foot stench around him.  He was incapable of recognizing his situation; he coughed and blindly attempted to roll away from the humongous footwear of the tiny teen, every breath as chokingly humid as the next.

“That bad, huh little man??  I’m offended!  Katie laughed loudly, pulling her sock off of Parker and tossing it to his side.  She pulled her other sock off and placed it with the other one, her face cringing as she saw it stick to her still-perspiring foot.  She continued, “Claire makes fun of my feet all the time, but you’re being a little dramatic!”

Parker’s world was still mute.  He was face-down on her bed, hacking loudly, hardly able to catch his breath.  What had he done to deserve this? 

Katie peered over the hurting bug, scrunching her face and saying, “C’mon!  This is fun, right?  I’m having fun!  Well, it’s more funny than fun, haha.”  She waited for a second, disappointed at the lack of a response from Parker.  As always, her humor was misunderstood.  Why the fuck is he not looking at me?  She gave a big “Hmmph,” and sat back on her pillow, pulling her right leg closer so she could inspect her foot.  The smell wafting to her nostrils, she saw little pieces of black lint scattered across her sole and between her normally cute and well-pampered toes.  Disgusting.  She grunted again, seething at Parker “You know, you’re lucky!  I’m the hottest girl in school now!  You know how many guys would jump at the chance to be this close to me?  They would be eating from my toes…Show some respect, you fucking bug!” Nothing.

Briefly, Parker thought of Ava and his friend Victoria.  If he had more time, he might have cried. 

Katie lowered her bare foot on Parker, trapping him in between the rancid crevices of her toes and pushing him into the spongy bed.  Normally, her feet were tiny and cute, her toes little and always sporting a fresh pedicure.  To Parker, they were football field-sized monstrosities that threatened to end his misery. He had no chance at retaliation, each toe alone possessing the authority to submit him.  The unimaginably monstrous toes of the popular girl rhythmically squeezed Parker, his infinitesimal body being played with like a pebble stuck in her shoe would be.  Parker slid in, around, and between her feet, the moisture from a long practice and day at school wiping off on him, like a shrunken sweat rag.  Occasionally a thick black bundle of lint would attach itself to his writhing body, attempting to transform him into an inanimate clump of toe jam.  In these chaotic moments, Parker struggled for each breath, her feet occasionally granting him a gasp of their rotten air.  Each time he was forced to open his mouth for survival, the salty taste of Katie's feet washed over his lips into his mouth, the awful wetness worsening his coughing fit.  Between the suffocation and the physical pummeling, Parker was losing consciousness.

Katie’s mind was now as lost as Parker’s, her insecurities and regrets rising up and pouring out of her as she tortured her shrunken man.  Every bad grade, every embarrassment, and every heartbreak manifested itself in an animalistic rage directed towards Parker.  A tear slid off her face.

“Fucking dammit!”  Katie jerked her foot off of Parker, leaving him in a helpless heap on her bed.  She pulled her legs in close and buried her head in her lap, her angry cries turning into soft whimpers.  Parker continued to loudly cough, the stench of her feet still wrapping itself around his body like a python.  After a few painfully slow moments, Katie raised her head, wiping away tears from her reddened eyes.  She fumed, “You…I can’t wait till this weekend when I can get rid of you for fucking good.” 

Fading in and out of consciousness, Parker attempted to sit up and face the sound of the angry girl’s voice.  Through his blurry vision, he saw a large, pale form come towards him, clasping him and whisking him through the air.

Heaving, lifeless, and defeated, Parker was thrust directly in front of Katie’s face.  Her eyes sucked even more life out of him as they inspected his limp body.  Her eyebrows lowered and her eyes narrowed.   With her free hand, she grabbed one of her discarded track socks, holding it open and placing it under Parker.  “Friday,” she spat, and dropped him in the soaked sock.  Red-faced, the frustrated blonde got out of her bed and picked up one of her Nikes.  She hastily shoved the sock into it.  Breathing heavily, she slid the shoes under her bed and stomped away.  

Futility.