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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1543013-The-Wrong-Shoes
by jasip
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1543013
Wearing the wrong shoes can be hell....or will it lead to hell?
                                                The Wrong Shoes


I wasn’t supposed to even be there. It had been a last minute decision to come into the city. I had wanted to go to the Museum of Modern Art. They had a new exhibit that I wanted to see and I couldn’t wait. I was always doing things like that. Rash, careless things that almost always led me to regret. How was I to know, that today would lead me to the biggest regret of my life?

It had all started good enough. I enjoyed a strong black cup of coffee and bagel at a deli which was a favorite thing of mine. Then off to the museum. The museum was featuring the work of an up and coming photographer that I wanted to see. I had  met him once at a gallery that a friend worked at as a receptionist. When I saw the advertisement for the showing at the museum, I knew that I had to go. Forget responsibility, I had called out sick. Forget about my poor financial situation, I was using the money that was supposed to pay my electric bill to finance my little outing.

The day at the museum was uplifting. The photographs were some of the best I had ever seen. They were candid shots of everyday people. A person walking a dog. People sitting on a bench.  Just ordinary things that led my mind down the path of wonderment. What was the lady on the bench looking so sad for? Why did the guy pushing the pretzel cart look so happy? As I looked at each photographs I couldn’t help but envy the photographers’ ability to see beyond the person.

I spent much of the day in the museum and was startled to see that it was almost three o’clock. I wanted to try and catch the four o’clock bus back home. I hurried out of the museum and found that it had turned blustery cold. When I had arrived in the city several hours earlier it had been cold but not this bad. Though I was wearing a decently warm winter jacket, I had no gloves or hat. I had walked only a few blocks and my face was stinging from the cold wind blowing. My eyes and nose were watering. I dug in my purse and could not find even one tissue either new or used.

I could have dealt with all of this for another ten blocks to the bus station if my foot hadn’t started hurting. I had these shoes for at least three months and they had never hurt me before. Of course I had never worn them when I had done a lot of walking. I could feel the beginning of a blister developing on my heel. With each step I took the shoe rubbed against the tender spot. Soon the burning became painful. I tried to walk at a different angle hoping that the friction would stop. It worked for a little while but there was no way I could keep this up for ten blocks. I looked at my watch. I was near the building that had a shopping area in the underground concourse. I had been in there before so I knew there was a pharmacy where I could buy some bandages for my foot.


As soon as I entered the building, the heat hit my cold face and hands and they began to tingle with a painful feeling that made my eyes water until I looked like I was crying. I stood just inside the door for a minute to give myself time to adjust to the temperature change. No one looked at me as I stood there. Everyone walked by at a brisk pace on their way to very important places they had be. I turned to my left where I knew the steps were. I managed the two tiered flight of steps though the friction against my blister was much worse. Much to my frustration I had entered the building at the opposite end where I knew the pharmacy was located. I had a long walk ahead of me

When I finally made it to the pharmacy and purchased my bandages I saw that by the clock on the wall behind the counter that it was now three thirty. Even if I were to run the rest of the way there was no way I would make the four o’clock bus. The next bus was at five fifteen. As I walked out of the store I weighed my options in my mind. I could start my walk to the bus station and try and find a bench to sit on or I could sit at the coffee shop here for half an hour before walking back. I decided to sit here and bandage my foot while I had a cup of coffee.

I ordered my black cup of coffee and luckily found an empty table in the middle of a bunch of about fifty tables that were in a food court type of setting. It was crowded for this time of day I thought to myself as I opened the box of bandages and readied myself to look at the sore on my foot. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. The way it had hurt I was sure that there was going to be a huge gaping hole. I put a bandage on it and put my shoe back on. For now it didn’t rub but I knew that when I started walking again the bandage would come off. Oh well I wouldn’t worry about it now, I would sit and have my coffee and relax for a few minutes.

I looked at the people around me. What an odd variety of people. At the table next to me there were two middle aged men dressed in expensive suits that would have paid my electric bill for several months. Diagonal from me there was a man who looked like he might be homeless. I watched him for a moment and he seemed to have a compulsive disorder that made him scratch his legs in a pattern. Two scratches on the bottom of his legs, next two scratches at the top and then he would finish off with patting his knees. He did this continuously. As I drank my coffee, I saw a large group of Asian women sit down at a larger table that was along the outer perimeter of the tables. They had a cake and some balloons and a few of them were carrying colorful wrapped presents. They appeared to be celebrating a co-workers birthday. The birthday girl herself had a rather hard look about her. I enjoyed the people watching for a little while and then the noise became an almost drone that began to get on my nerves. I dug into my purse and found my MP3 player and headphones. I also had a paperback novel that I brought along to read on the bus. I settled back to spend the next fifteen minutes in my own little world.

I only had my headphones on for a minute or so and this I knew because my favorite song had just begun when I heard someone behind me say something in a whispery voice. I turned quickly at the same time that I grabbed a hold of my purse in case it was someone trying to snatch my purse. No one was behind me. I hadn’t made out the words but it sure had sounded like someone was right behind me. I looked around and everything appeared normal so I let go of my purse and lowered my head to my paperback.
“Abyssus abyssum invocat”
What the hell? I thought as I looked up quickly from my book. There was the voice again, although this time it was not in a whisper. I removed the headphones from my ears and looked around at the crowd. Everyone was the same. The two business men were having a heated discussion about something. The man with the compulsive disorder scratched and the group of birthday celebrants were watching the birthday girl open presents. 

I looked at my watch. Ten minutes and I would leave for the bus station. I debated whether to get up and go now but the thought of walking in my uncomfortable shoes made me put my headphones back in. As I sat there reading, I felt a slight tremor. I could even see the pages of my book that was on the table move. I looked up again and looked at the people around me. It seemed that no one had noticed that. Now that was weird I thought. How could people not feel that? I took my headphones off and leaning over toward the two business men asked them “Did you feel that tremor?”
A look passed between the two men that said the girl is crazy let’s be nice to her.
“No Miss…I didn’t feel anything. But it may have been the subway which isn’t far from here.”
The subway. I had forgotten about the subway being close. Feeling a little foolish, I put my headphones back on and once again turned to my book. Feeling fidgety, I looked at my watch. Five minutes until I needed to be on my way. I put my bookmark into my paperback and stuck it back into my purse. Might as well get going I thought.
“ABYSSUS ABYSSUM INVOCAT” 
This time it was loud and clear. I stood so fast that I knocked my chair over backwards. A few people near me looked up at me but dismissed me right away. I yanked the headphones out of my ears and looking at the business men said “Don’t tell me that you didn’t hear that. It sounded like Latin or something.”

This time they didn’t even acknowledge me. They continued on with their conversation like I didn’t exist. I looked to the man with the disorder but he just continued his pattern. The table of birthday celebrants were looking at me with pity. That was it. I had enough. I don’t know what was going on but I was getting out of here. I grabbed my purse and shoved my MP3 player and headphones in and slung it over my shoulder. I righted the chair I had knocked over and hobbled with my sore foot to the stairs. I took a look back at the food court. I saw one of the business men had finished his lunch as was heading to the same stairwell that I went up. The blister still hurt especially with the motion of walking up the steps but I didn’t care. I wanted to get out onto the street. I was at the large revolving door when I felt the tremor again. Only this time it was much stronger. It lasted a few seconds and then there was a massive explosion.

I woke up in a hospital room.  My body hurt as if it had been thrown against a brick wall repeatedly. I tried to lift my arm but couldn’t. I panicked with a thought that it was no longer there but when I turned my head I could see a large white cast around it.
A nurse cam in then and smiled at me and said “Ahhh good you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
When I didn’t say anything she said “It’s okay sweetie you had quite an experience. You are so lucky to be alive. The explosion killed a lot of people. It’s all anyone is talking about for the last two days. They aren’t even sure what caused it.”
Someone called her from the hallway.
“The doctors calling me I’ll be right back.”
She went out into the hallway but I could hear her talking to someone in the hall.
“Is she awake?”
“Yes but she didn’t respond to my question.”
“Well..she may be in a state of shock yet. Did you see the latest news? Some of the bodies they pulled out of the ruble from the concourse level were infamous.”
“What do you mean?” The nurse asked with curiosity.
“Well do you remember reading about the wall street tycoon who was under indictment recently for insider trading and the seven strangler from a few years back who strangled seven women always on the seventh day of the month?  It seems both of them were in the food court area at the time.”
“Crap…too bad innocent people had to die in that explosion. It almost sounds like it was payback time.” The nurse laughed at her own observation.

I thought about the men in business suits that had been sitting next to me. And the compulsive man and my mind sought back to a news article I had read about the Wall Street criminal. The picture in the paper was not of neither of the tailored suited business men but of the guy who had sat and scratched himself in patterns.
I tried to remember snippets of the conversation between the two business men.
“The urge is strong again….”
“We’ve been lucky…..”
“No one knows about two….”
The nurse and the doctor came in the room with their professional smiles pasted on. The doctor said “So how are we feeling today?”
“Abyssus abyssum invocat” I began mumbling over and over again.
The nurse looked at the doctor “What is she saying?”
The doctor leaned close to me as I kept chanting “Abyssus abyssum invocat…abyssus abyssum invocat…”
The nurse asked “I wonder what that means?”
“It’s Latin. It means Hell calls Hell” The doctor answered.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1543013-The-Wrong-Shoes