Fiction – Serenity, part 2

Find part 1 here


Serenity slept fitfully, true to her usual habits. Visions of faceless men drifted into her subconscious. Men that made her want to run, simultaneously towards them and away from them. She didn’t know in which direction, she just knew she had to run. She was running so much that her feet were hurting. Her feet really hurt.

Oh God, she had to stop running.

It took her a moment to fully come to and realise that the pain in her feet was real and was what had woken her. She rolled over carefully and looked down at herself, still naked except for the patent stilettos that now seemed to be almost a part of her own limbs.

Her mind drifted back to what had happened in the bar. What had the voice said? “Your precious heels will remind you of me and the pain you caused me, until you understand” She was still no closer to recognising the voice. The voice – the man – had seemed to know her though. Had she slept with him? The implication was there. It was true that she had had her fair share of one-night stands over the last 18 months or so, but she was sure she had never misled anyone about her intentions. She certainly didn’t remember deliberately causing anybody any pain.

Serenity spent most of the day in bed, only getting up for a cup of coffee around midday, and the occasional trip to the bathroom. She responded to her friends’ phonecalls with a curt text that only seemed to make them more worried, and their calls more urgent. She ignored them all, watched a little TV, downed half a bottle of vodka and went back to bed, where once again she had the same dreams of faceless men and searing pain.

It was a persistent knocking that woke her on the following day, a Sunday. Serenity buried her head under her pillow in the hope she wouldn’t have to answer, and willed them to go away.

The knocking didn’t stop, and a man’s voice called her name.

“Serenity? I know you’re in there. Answer the door. It’s Dave. From the bar?”

Serenity sat up. Dave? What the hell was he doing there, and, more to the point, how had he got her address?

As it became clear that he was not going anywhere, Serenity reluctantly got out of bed and limped her way to the door, throwing on a robe to half-cover her nakedness on the way. At the door she paused for a moment to try and overcome the searing pain that was still coming from her feet, and gather her thoughts.

“Dave?” she called through the door.”What are you doing here?”

“I bumped into Helen this morning. She told me she was worried about you, so I offered to stop by and check you were ok. She says you’re not answering your phone.”

Serenity hesitated.

“It’s ok, Dave… I’m…ok. Tell her not to worry about me.”

“You don’t really sound ok, Serenity. Can I come in?”

The tone of his voice told her that there was no way she was going to get rid of him easily. It seemed she had no choice but to let him in.

The Serenity that greeted Dave did not look like the Serenity he knew, or was used to seeing in the bar. That Serenity was vibrant, full of life, the centre of attention. The woman who stood in front of him looked smaller and more subdued. Her chocolate skin had a strange ashy grey quality about it, and her lips were pale and cracked. In his shock, he barely even registered that she only appeared to be wearing a jersey robe, half open down to her waist, only just clinging on to her modesty.

His surprise must have been obvious, for Serenity smiled ruefully. “Sorry, I’ve not got my face on. Come in.”

As she turned and led the way to the kitchen, he noticed that she appeared to be wearing the same heels she had worn the last time he had seen her on the previous Friday. The outline of her shapely arse was visible through the thin cloth of her dressing gown, and his groin twitched involuntarily with the effect her appearance always had on him.

It was obvious that she was limping, and he didn’t understand why she was still wearing the fierce-looking stilettos. They didn’t look comfortable at all.


“Yes please. But let me make it, you don’t look too good.”

Serenity leaned gratefully against the kitchen counter and pointed out where things were, taking the opportunity to take the weight off her throbbing feet.

“If you don’t mind me asking”, Dave finally said, “do you always wear your highest heels around the house?”

He was not prepared for the reaction this question prompted, which was that Serenity suddenly burst into floods of big, gut-wrenching sobs. He caught her as she half-crumpled, and carried her into the little living room, placing her gently on the sofa, and holding her somewhat awkwardly.

“Shhhh…it’s ok…it’s ok….”

He waited patiently for the sobs to subside, merely repeating gentle affirmations and stroking the side of her face with the lightest of touches.

When she was finally ready to look at him, the whole story poured out of her. The bar, the nightclub, the strange voice, and how she was now unable to remove her shoes, with the associated pain. Once she had finished, he moved down towards her foot, picking it up gently again.

Other than the traces of dried blood that she had obviously tried to wash off, the foot and the shoe looked normal to him. Pulling gently, however, he soon realised that what she had told him was true. There was no chance that her foot and her shoe were parting ways any time soon.



Fiction – Serenity, part 1

There is often a certain amount of pain involved in wearing new shoes – especially high heels. It’s not necessarily a given that the higher the heel, the greater the pain, but as rules go, it seemed like a good one to our heroine at the particular moment in time in which we are about to join her.

“Fuck”, exclaimed Serenity, as she scrabbled around furiously in her bathroom cabinet trying to locate a plaster for her wounded heel. Her name had been a massive case of wishful thinking on the part of her parents, for serene was probably the least likely term that would ever be used to describe her, and she certainly wasn’t serene now.

Serenity was a bundle of energy, from the wild afro of her hair, through each sinew and curve of her voluptuous body, down to her fingertips, which permanently seemed to be tapping out the internal rhythms of her life. Even in her sleep she thrashed furiously, a seemingly permanent ball of pent-up nervous energy.

“Late. Late. Late…Fuck…. Ah, gotcha.”

With that, she slapped a plaster on her heel, grabbed her bag and keys and headed out of the door to meet her girlfriends for drinks.

Her friends were, naturally, all waiting for her when she arrived, hobbling slightly and breathless. “I know, I know” she waved vaguely and headed straight for the bar.

She was so out of breath and focused on getting her drinks that she hardly noticed the guy next to her at the bar waiting to be served. “Dave! Four tequila slammers please” she shouted at the barman, leaning forward to reward him with a glimpse of her ample cleavage.

She also didn’t hear her bar neighbour mutter a hearfelt “BITCH” under his breath, or feel his eyes bore into her back. What she did feel was her feet twitch slightly, something that she vaguely put down to their newness.

She paid Dave and carefully carried the slammers back to the table where her three friends were sitting.

“Fuck, I need this. Cheers ladies”.

Serenity knocked back her slammer and smiled ruefully. “Bugger. Should have ordered a few more, shouldn’t I?” Helen, seated to her right smiled “Just ask Dave to bring a few over. You know he’d do anything for you, right? Just flash your knickers at him or something. Assuming you are wearing any, of course?”

“You know my thoughts on underwear”, answered Serenity. “Only worth bothering with in the bedroom and to be taken off for special occasions”. She grinned at her friend and smoothed down her skirt. “So, are we going dancing tonight, or what?”

Two tequila slammers later and Serenity and her friends headed down the road to “T’s”, where the first name terms they were on with the door staff enabled them to jump the growing queue.

“Fucking bitch” growled the man from the bar as the girls sailed past him again, completely oblivious to his presence once more.

Inside, the noise, music and lighting exhilirated Serenity. She never felt more alive that when the beats filled her up from the inside and she could really let herself go on the dancefloor. This time, however, her feet were bothering her.

“I’ve got to sit down for a bit, my feet are killing me”, she yelled at her friend Ruby. “You carry on, don’t worry about me”.

Weaving her way to the edge of the dancefloor, she spied an empty barstool and dropped down onto it. “Thank fuck.”

She gingerly surveyed the plaster on her heel, before reaching down to try and remove the offending shoe. It took only a split second before she realised that the shoe refused to budge. Wincing, she pulled harder. Still no luck. The shoe seemed wedded to her foot. No amount of pulling wanted to move it.

She could feel the happy alcoholic haze she had been floating into up until now dissipating and being replaced by a strange cold fear. Even the music and lights seemed duller, fading in proportion to the strange panic rising through her entire body. Serenity gasped as her throat constricted and her body grew limp.

A voice seemed to come from the cloudy depths from her mind. A male voice, deep, soothing, yet also with an unmistakeable sinister undertone.

“Do you know pain, Serenity? Have you ever really experienced it? Do you know what it’s like to feel that pain with every step you take? You never have, have you? You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you have razor blades slicing at your heart with every breath you take. You’ve never given a fuck for all the hearts you’ve tossed aside without thinking. All those one night stands. All those faceless men. Think about them, Serenity. Do you even remember them? Do you remember me? From now on you’ll remember me every waking moment. Your precious heels will remind you of me and the pain you caused me until you understand.”

The voice faded and the nightclub slowly came back into focus, the lights and music now mimicking the pounding rhythm of Serenity’s beating heart.

“Ren? You ok Ren? You look like you’ve seen a ghost”

Blinking, Serenity realised the voice talking to her had changed, and was that of her friend Helen.

“Oh my God, Ren, what’s happened to your feet? Is that blood?”

It took all Serenity’s effort to focus on her friend and stammer her excuses. “Sorry, Helen, I don’t feel well, I need to go home. Don’t worry about me, I’ll get a cab.”

With that, she rushed out of the nightclub and into the fresh night air, gulping furiously in an effort to bring life back into her lungs. Smiling half-heartedly at the doorman, she said “Tony, call me a cab would you, please?”

Once in the cab, Serenity struggled to hold back the tears as the throbbing in her feet was all she could focus on. Once back in her apartment, she swallowed a couple of painkillers, stripped off her clothes and collapsed in a heap on the bed, shoes still stubbornly attached to her feet.

It took a while for the pain relief to kick in, but finally, she slipped into a deep sleep.