I tagged along happily through the clothes store. I wasn't very sure of exactly where I was, but I didn't really need to know. It wouldn't make a difference.
All of the clothes seemed to have an odd piece of plastic on them, I was afraid to touch it, for there were warnings labeled over the top. It was almost the color of my skin, a little bit darker. From dirt and just that my skin was so pale.
I looked down at my mother’s feet. That was my way of following her. I didn't need to strain my neck to try to see her head. I played games where I tried to get as close to her feet as I could without stepping on them. On the rare occasion that I did, she would look back with a slight smile on her face and I would giggle into my overly large winter coat. I kept my hands straight out next to me as we walked along the rows and rows of unfamiliar apparel. Most of it was dark shades of blue, purple, or black. I always liked to feel the clothes. It was my way of seeing them. I tried not to rely on my sight as much as I could, because I knew it could fail all too easily. The many items were much more interesting to feel than to look at anyway. My mother stopped and I bumped into her back, to engrossed in my thoughts to notice that she stopped before it was too late. I craned my neck to see the reason for the hold up. She had taken a lucky pair of pants from their tightly packed group.
"What do you think?" she asked. She always asked me for my opinion. Whether I thought it was ugly or not, I always nodded my head and smiled. She smiled back and added it to her arm.
Someone shouted her name and I jumped into her arms. She looked for the voice and greeted a stranger. They talked for a while. I figured it would be a while so I let my mind wander. My feet were starting to strain. I leaned one way to soothe it.
I did that back and forth for a while. I thought about the clothes, and wondered if I were to just slip in them, would they hold me up? I liked to hide in between the darks and grays, but would they be able to take the ease off both my feet at the same time for me? Maybe... I backed into them while my mom was still occupied with her stranger. I felt a strange kind of safe feeling as I went farther, ever so slowly, into the velvety cloths. I closed my eyes and leaned back. I heard silence around me. Then my mom was calling me. Only the slightest bit of hysteria in her voice.
I heard a bang before she did. I knew the clothes would not hold me. Maybe for some other child, but not me. They had betrayed me. I was furious. I heard the sharp ding of my head against cold hard metal seconds before the pain stabbed the back of my head like a dagger. I decided to lie there. Waiting for my mom to take in the situation. I thought about checking to see if there was blood. But I reasoned against it. Secretly, I hoped there was, I hope when my mother pulled me up, I bleed all over the betrayers.
My anger soon melted into disappointment. I cried. I screamed. With the hurt mentally and physicality jabbing into me. I wanted to just be numb. All around. I wanted my brain to be as if I were asleep. Soothing the worries away. But that wouldn't happen. No one would let me sleep. My head was bleeding, but not as much as I hoped. My mom talked to partially me, but mostly herself, saying it was going to be okay. I was fine. I had gotten one of my wishes, I was numb. Not completely, but mostly. And that was good enough.