Her dedication to heels was admirable. Even though she did not have much money to spend, she found a way to broaden her shoe collection through discount shops or hand-me-downs from friends. Her height was short but her presence was grand. When she strutted across the hallways, you could hear the familiar "click-clack" of her 6-inch patent leather stilettos. As the sound grew closer, you started to feel a sense of fear build within you.
She could truly commandeer any room she'd walk into. Powerful men who were senior to her age would become gentle giants around her, following every word of advice she had to give. She was good at her job, and everything else in life. There really wasn't anything she was not capable of figuring out. She was honest, no bullshit. Her lovers admired her, but secretly felt emasculated as well. She knew what she wanted, and she was not afraid to admit it: money, a comfortable life, and a man that worshipped the ground she walked on in her 6-inch stilettos. And whoever was able to give her that, she loved immensely. A love so passionate, that she'd die for her partner. A love so raw, it knew no boundaries.
Sometimes, when she would let her guard down, she'd get hurt. It would be as if her world would turn upside down. She did not know how to grieve, but she would make you regret everything. Her screams would echo across streets, and her punches would leave you blue and black for weeks. Suddenly the confident woman everyone knew was emotional, shaky, and delirious. If you didn't know her, you'd say she's schizophrenic.
But if you knew her, if you really knew her, you'd understand her anger. You would see the small girl within her, long before she became that woman wearing 6-inch stilettos. You'd see the scars on her arm from her own mom, as she ran and hid under the bed to find safety. You'd see the men in her life let her down, as they dictated how her life should be. Instead of the stilettos, her daily companion was a small pocket knife that she'd threaten her school bullies with.
From a fearful child to someone you feared, that was the story of her life. So frightening, in fact, that even though she is gone now, I can still hear the faint sound of the "click-clack" of her 6-inch stilettos down the hallway.
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