Clenching your teeth, you realize that trying to outrun Kate’s foot is a herculean task. Even thinking about it makes you wince at how vulnerable you are.

Instead, you get into a turtle position, protecting your vital organs as the slab of fabric-bound flesh which was once your sister’s size 8s descend upon you with the efficiency of an industrial press.

Despite your attempts, the weight of her body slamming into the sneaker immediately forces you to the ground. The side of your face is plastered against her grimy imprint as immense body heat scorches your back. At least you are glad that you’re not dead, as the sound of the slave's bones snapping reverberated softly through the fabric walls of the sneaker. 

You try to wiggle your head into a more comfortable position, feeling your lungs filled with the warm odor. The thick, rough cotton of the sock scratches your back, making you groan in pain at how little progress you are making. 

This is extremely painful, but not unbearable. If you manage to just hold still until Kate takes off her shoes, you may be able to make it out of here alive. Trying to control your breathing, you fight for the uncontaminated air found in this hellhole. 

With a moment of relative silence, you are finally able to think about your predicament. You never expected your sweet sister to be such a psychopath. Sure, a little weird, but this? It’s not like she was one of those weird kids who tortured ants or anything like that.

Before you are able to achieve a zen-like state inside your sister’s stinky shoes, you feel the pressure being lifted off you. It looks like Kate is on the move, lifting her foot. As soon as you stand up, you find yourself sliding down toward the heel section of the shoe. You try to grasp onto something, but the slimy, wet surface provides zero friction. 

Suddenly, you impact against the heel section with a painful THUD. Rubbing your back, you can vaguely make out the silhouette of your sister’s foot once again descending to take another step in the darkness. 

You have been flipped over to your back, with your head now facing upwards and towards the heel. Lifting your arms in defiance, you can hear the sound of them breaking as soon as Kate finishes taking her step, putting all of her body weight into this one exact point. Your final scream is muffled against the heavy fabric of her sock.

When your sister takes them off and throws her socks into the laundry basket this evening, all that remains is a small red splotch. And after just one run of the washing machine, your remains are removed with bleach.