Shoes.

I was in my room, trying to do my homework. It was to write a paper for English, about a common item that is very important to you. I looked over at my collection of shoes.

As a kid, I had the weirdest habits. My family was poor, so we went to the Salvation Army store. A lot. When ever we went, I would immediately grab my mother’s arm and drag her over to the shoes’ section. I would proceed to pick up an old, beat up pair of shoes and ask her to buy them for me. She would ask me why I would buy such old beaten up shoes. Every time, I would tell her a different story.

I ran over to the shoes section and grabbed a pair of beat up converses. They looked as though they would hold up for 1 year or 2, if I continuously duct taped together the shoes, covering up the holes. “Mommy! Mommy! Can I get these?”

My mom looked at me. “Dear, why don’t you get some nicer shoes? Those are all beat up.” She looked at the price tag. Only a mere $4. We could afford that.

I looked my mom straight in the eye. “Nothing tells a story like a shoe.” I pointed to one of the holes. “You see this hole? It was probably caused when a high heel stepped on to the weak part of the cloth.” I pointed to a scrape mark. “This mark was caused by the spokes of a bike. The owner had scratched his shoes on the spokes of his bike! There’s so much history to these shoes.”

My mom chuckled. She shook her head. “How do you know these belonged to a boy?” she asked.

“What kind of girl wears chucks to a dance? And if they did, how come there’s a high heel hole in it? Don’t tell me the girl was dancing with another girl.” I replied. No matter how many questions mother asked me, I managed to answer them. Finally, my mom gave in and let me buy the shoes.

I smiled, looking over at my Chucks that would probably turn to ash if I took the duct tape off. I wanted to take the duct tape off to see what other memories were stashed inside my shoes. I couldn’t remember anything else about those shoes.

I looked over at my next pair of shoes, the ones I still wear nowadays. They were red flats with white polka dots. They looked beat up, not nearly as nice as when I bought them. They carried so many memories, though. I had gotten them when I was staying with my aunt, at her house in Malibu.

My parents were having a problem with money that year. They could only feed three people, and that was only two meals a day. Neither Mom nor Dad wanted to give up any of their children. You see, in my family, I have two brothers and a sister; Cormac, Oliver, Hannah and me, Luna. My parents sent Comac, Oliver and I to my aunt’s house. We were to stay there until they could afford us again. Hannah was to go and live with Grandma and Grandpa.

“Kids! Aunt Laura is here to pick you up!” Mom yelled. Cormac, Oliver and I raced each other down the stairs. We all knew of our financial problems. We should have been miserable, but Aunt Laura was the greatest. She would give us presents every year and she would visit every week or so.

Aunt Laura led us to her car and helped us put our bags in the car. It wasn’t very hard because we didn’t have much to pack. Even after putting our bags in the trunk, we still had plenty of space in the trunk; there were only three plastic shopping bags –not even- filled with clothes. Aunt Laura joked about putting one of us in the trunk. We were all so terrified.

“Don’t stop, believin’! Hold on to that feeling!” we sang at the top of our lungs. Road trips to Aunt Laura’s house were the almost always on the “top 3 favorite things we did” list. We made a pit stop at a flee market. That’s where I saw the shoes. They were in one of the stands near the restroom. They were just sitting there, looking brand new. I stood there and stared at them.

“Honey, you want those?” Aunt Laura asked. I shook my head. Aunt Laura didn’t have to waste money on me. Aunt Laura saw me staring at the shoes and took out her wallet. “How much for these?” she asked, pointing to the red flats with white polka dots.

“Very cheap. Only $10.” the vendor replied. $10? I’ve never spent $10 on my shoes! Aunt Laura took out $10 and bought them.

She handed them to me. “Here, hun. You can have them.”

I shook my head. “They were too expensive, Aunt Laura. Return them.”

Upon hearing that, the vendor pointed to a sign above her head. “No refunds.”

My next memory of the shoes took place at the pond near Aunt Laura’s house.

"C’mon, Luna! The water’s not that cold!” Cormac yelled. What the hey. I was already wearing Capri’s. They wouldn’t get wet if I dangled my feet in the water. I took off my shoes and dipped my feet into the water. I sat by the shore, letting my feet hang in the water, but not actually going in. Suddenly, Oliver ran from behind me and pushed me into the water. It took me by surprise, but I didn’t fall in. I only flung my shoes out into the middle of the pond.

“Look what you did, Oliver!” I yelled. I took off my shirt. I stood up, feeling some eyes staring at my body. I turned around, making sure those stares weren’t from my brothers. Fortunately, they weren’t. Cormac’s best friend, Steve, Oliver’s new friend, Jon, and my friends, Katie, Justine, and Daniel were. “What?” I asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me your sis was so hot?” Jon and Steve asked in unison.

“Oh. My. Gosh. Do you work out?” Katie asked. Reasonable question; I was skinny, due to malnourishment, but no one needed to know that. I shook my head and dived into the pond. I swam to the middle where Cormac was. He was holding onto my shoes. I grabbed my shoes, but he wouldn’t let go. We had a game of tug-o-war until we heard something rip. I looked at my shoes to see a huge line through my shoes. I was totally going to need to sew them back together.

Taking advantage of Cormac being distracted, I grabbed my shoes and swam back to shore.

I picked up my shoes and examined them. Surely enough, there was a thin line of red running through the shoes and closing up the gap. I hit myself on the head. I had an idea for the essay the whole time! I got to work.

Two days later, I got my paper back. It got an A++! My best grade yet! I couldn’t wait to tell Aunt Laura. As I rode the bus home, I had a sense of déjà vu.

“Aunt Laura! Aunt Laura! When are our parents going to take us home?” I asked as I walked through the door, coming home from school.

She sighed. “Honey, it’s about time I told you guys. Cormac! Oliver! Come down here!” she yelled. My brothers knew that tone. It meant something was up. When she told us our parents weren’t just leaving us here for a month but many months, she’d also used this tone.

My brothers –basically- materialized right next to me. Aunt Laura sighed again. “Kids, your parents are never coming to pick you up.”

A chorus of “Why not?” rang through out my siblings and I.

“Well,” she wiped a tear from her eye and played with her fingers nervously. “They d-d-died.” She broke down. Cormac stood there, looking as shocked as one could be. Oliver burst out crying. I stood there, smiling like the Cheshire cat, as tears streamed down my face.

When Cormac came back to normal, he glared at me. “Why are you smiling?”

I couldn't help but let out a fake laugh. I looked my brothers and crying aunt in the eye. “They would’ve wanted us to smile. They wouldn’t want us to suffer just because they were gone. Sure they want us to mourn over them, but they would’ve wanted us to live on. I know it.”

I wiped away the tears from my eyes. I remember clearly that I had finally let myself cry freely at their funeral. Right after Justine, Katie, and Daniel had shown up.

When I got home, I showed Aunt Laura my paper. She smiled at the story I wrote. Then, she looked at me, “Darling, you know those shoes I bought you?” I nodded; How was I supposed to forget them? “Well, your parents told me to give buy you shoes. They knew that they were soon going to be gone and that you loved shoes. They told me to buy you which ever pair you wanted, no matter how much it cost. That’s how much they loved you.”

That night, I even smiled in my sleep. Thinking that, even as they were about to die, they thought of me.