A Shoe in the City of Horrors

I was a shoe. Yes, you heard it right – a shoe. 

Not even a big one made for these weird adult humans walking & jogging & running all around. 

Not me – I was just a tiny little shoe, made for tiny little feet. I was named “Size 4” like all my batch mates. 

I remember the day I was placed in a brand new box – my sole all white & creamy – my skin shiny & colorful with fun cartoon characters painted on it -The way those adult shoes looked at me with their colorless neutral eyes & plain laces I could see envy in their eyes. They knew I would be on tiny fun loving bubbly feet soon, jumping and strolling, learning to balance & hop.

I looked forward to my colorful future ahead with my little to-be-owner soon. I remember being inside a box on a long journey, then feeling sudden heat of the sun for the first time I was taken out of the box & being given to my new owner. He was so cute but from all the pictures I had seen of human children in my factory he seemed different – I was told by an adult worn out almost dying old pair of shoe in my owner’s dad’s feet that what I was looking at was called a “malnourished child who hasn’t eaten properly in months” – I was also told that I had ended up in his hands purely by luck as someone called “Red Cross” had given me to him in what humans called “humanitarian aid” – I didn’t care about all that – I fell in love with my new owner the moment he kissed me & a tear from his eyes fell on my flaps. I didn’t understand the reason but I could see his badly bruised, wounded feet needed me.

His father said: “Ahmed, my son, thank Allah for He has given you this beautiful gift for Eid & tomorrow inshallah you will wear it when we go for Eid prayers in the morning” 

I could hardly wait for the next morning. All night I tossed & turned, excited to be worn by Ahmed & at some point I even heard extremely loud explosions – I was so scared but then the thought of next morning made me sleep finally.

When I woke up I found myself in Ahmed’s Dad’s hands & his hands were shaking wildly – I felt confused – The next thing I saw was a tiny black bag – I could see Ahmed inside it – lifeless & blood all over his malnourished tiny face. People were sobbing all around us – His father placed me gently next to Ahmed’s feet saying : “My son, here are your shoes – they can’t go with you where you are going but I will place them next to you for our journey to the graveyard – Today is Eid – May Allah give you all the happiness that this cruel world & it’s people never gave” 

Then I was left in a dark place – my still unblemished face touching cold, broken, twisted & lifeless feet of my little owner Ahmed – the one who never had a chance to wear me but the one who owns my heart forever. And I thought to myself if someone like me with merely a SOLE can feel so much compassion, how could the ones with SOUL be so cruel?