Lances of Pain

I limped away from the car, following my mom, blind with pain. I'd spent the whole day on my feet, and my ankles felt as if they were going to explode. I was supposed to be getting materials for a school project, but all I could think about was my steady footfalls and the unendurable pain that came with them.

We walked out of the first store--empty handed--and headed off to the next. As it turns out, our next store was at the other side of the mall. As we walked, lances of pain jumped up my legs, every step worse than the last. I stumbled, whimpering as my feet hit the floor.

We spent ten minutes in the next store. Ten minutes on my feet. Fire burned at my ankles, flames licked my knees. We headed off to the next store.

I finally got to sit down, but the attempt was futile: I was leaving as soon as I got relaxed.

My mom broke into a jog on the way back to the car. My feet pounded against the floor. I withheld a scream. Agony burst through my veins. I couldn't see through eyes that were blinded by pain. I came to a stop. We were at the car. I sat down, put my feet up, and relaxed.