The One Left Behind

For a week now I've lain here, in the dark and waited for someone to extend their hand and lift me from my squalor. The dust is thick and it feels as if I'm coated from one end to the other. Occasionally a shaft of light filters underneath my prison entryway. Shadows come and go and then the light is extinguished. 

It started at least seven days ago. Gavin came home from ball practice and without a thought he shoved me under the bed with my twin. It wasn't intentional. Really. It's just that he was in a rush and when faced with the decision on what to do with us, he balked, throwing us onto the floor and then, kicking us beneath the edge of the spread that dragged the floor.

We stayed there until Mary actually pulled us out with the vacuum. First my twin and then I was drawn up into the hose. It felt as if we'd be shredded to pieces but Mary acted quickly and turned off the machine and unplugged the hose. She fished us out with care, stared at us, crinkling her nose and uttering a soft grunt. Then, she tossed us into a large wicker receptacle that sat just outside the bathroom door. I don't remember much after that but sometime later, someone dumped several sheets on top of us. Breathing would be impossible for anyone else.

Several days later I could feel the container moving and I knew that someone was carrying it to the sanitization facility. This was a radical event and I wondered if my twin knew what was happening. I had no way to ask and I couldn't see where he was or if he was still here.

The fall, when it came wasn't as bad as I expected. The world seemed to turn on its head and I fell, end over end, until I landed into a large metal container. What came next still give me chills. The sound of running water filled the metal room and soon I could feel the cool waves lapping at my toes. With torturous slowness it crept up until if covered everything in the place. Then something clicked and a motor started and I was swirling around and was pulled and pushed and twisted in every possible direction. It was a nightmare. Twice I bumped into my twin and we tried to hang on to one another but the force of the waves ripped us apart. 

Finally, the water drained away, leaving us beached piles of sheets. I breathed a sigh of relief until I felt the room begin to spin. It went faster and faster until I was slammed against the metal walls and flattened. I couldn't move for what felt like an eternity. When the horror ended, I slid down to the bottom of the room.

I don't know how long it was before we were released. They put is in another room and it whirled around and became very warm. I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I remember was lying on a bed in a dark room. It was cool and I let myself enjoy the feeling of air as it moved gently around me. My twin lay quietly nearby. We lay there all day and finally the room grew dark, the house grew quiet, and everyone slept. We'd survived another day.

I heard Gavin's feet as he ran down the hallway. "Mom, I need my socks!"

"For goodness sakes, Gavin, you'll wake the whole neighborhood. The socks are on the bed in the spare room."

The door was flung open and the overhead light came on. Gavin reach over and grabbed my twin and then me and raced down the hall.

And it began again.




This was a prompt I found somewhere. Write from the point of view of a sock.