You follow the woman as she weaves her way through the store. You eventually come to an enormous wall of shoes. Every kind of footwear you've ever seen, and plenty more you haven't.
"Let's see...school shoes...," the woman says to herself as she scans the wall. She starts to move farther and farther away, but you stay put to examine a few of the more interesting pairs.
You notice a cute little pair of pink shoes, with white hearts embroidered on the toes, and pick them up. You sit on a nearby bench and try to squeeze a foot into one. At first it feels too small, but then you're able to get your foot into it. It's very snug, but at least you got it all the way in. After a few seconds, even the snug feeling goes away, and the shoe now seems to fit quite comfortably. You buckle the strap and immediately put on the other shoe.
You model the new footwear in a mirror, but you don't like how it clashes with your black and white uniform. It's a bit too much color.
Just as you're putting the shoes back on the shelf, you hear the woman approaching. "Here we go!" the woman says. You turn to see that she's carrying a pair of shiny black school shoes. When she reaches you, you look up at her and remember just how short you've gotten. She seems even taller than she did a moment ago. "I think these are the right size. We should have gotten a store clerk to measure you first."
You blink, almost positive you heard her wrong. "You're the store clerk."
She gives you a funny look. "Of course I am. What of it?"
"Sorry," you say. "I thought you said something else just now."
You take the shoes and sit down on the bench. It seems neither of you are very good at judging shoe sizes; This pair is also too small for you. However, just like the first pair, it gradually enlarges so that you can fit your feet in perfectly.
"So these shoes have a magic spell on them, too?" you ask as you tighten the buckles. You can't believe how high-pitched your voice is. It sounds a little young for a high schooler.
"Magic? Don't be silly, sweetheart. There's no such thing as magic."
You look up at her, very confused. Something then occurs to you. You have to stand up to be sure, but once you do, you realize what's been going on all along. The shoes weren't growing to fit you...you were shrinking to fit them!
All of the shoe sizes you shrank through have really added up. You're barely taller than the clerk's waist. She's towering over you, making you feel very meek by comparison.
You walk over to the nearest mirror and stare dumbfounded at your reflection.
You looked, for all intents and purposes, like an eight-year-old girl. This change was a bit different than the hanger's effects. These shoes were able to change your entire body, height and age. They even affected your clothes. The schoolgirl's uniform has shrunk with you, although your skirt has lengthened to cover your knees.
"I didn't want this!" you say to the woman. "You should have warned me these shoes would change my age before I put them on!" You feel unusually aggressive, and full of youthful vigor.
"I'm sorry," the woman responded. She seemed very confused, and she wasn't the only one. "I should have. I always remembered to do it before..."
"Well, a bigger shoe can change me back, right? Here's one that looks about right." You grab a pair of boots off another shelf, but as you turn around to head over to the bench, the woman stops you and snatches them away.
"Those are much too big for you, Lina," she says as she puts them back where they belonged.
"Hey!" You shout at her. "What're you doing? And why're you calling me Lina?"
"Manners, Lina!" she hisses at you. "What's gotten into you?" She grabs your hand and starts leading you across the store. Unable to remove yourself from her firm grip, you have no choice but to scramble behind her. It's hard for you to keep up without jogging, and she doesn't seem to be slowing down.
"Let go! Let me go!" you protest, trying your best to pry her fist open.
"Be quiet!" she hisses. "We're in public!"
You reach the counter, and she rings the service bell. You try once again to figure out what her problem is.
"Why are you acting so weird? Why are you calling me Lina?"
"Because," the woman sneers, making her impatience clear, "That's your name."
For some reason, tears are welling up in your eyes. "Why are you doing this?"
"BECAUSE, Lina, I'm your mother."
"No, you're not!"
"Where is everyone?" she grumbles, ringing the bell several more times.
"Nobody's coming because it's you!" you shout, desperate for her to remember. "You're the store clerk!"
"Lina, I have had just about enough out of you!" She leans closer to you. Her agitated voice makes you quiver and shrink backwards, but she holds your hand firmly. "Now I don't want to hear another peep out of you until we leave this store! Understood?"
"My name is NOT Lina," you say with all possible conviction in your squeaky little voice. "And you are NOT my mommy. I'm in college, and you run this store!"
"Fine, if that's how you want it," she says. She looks around the empty store to make sure nobody's watching, then picks you up and flings you over her shoulder.
"NO!" you scream. "I can prove it! Look in the dressing room! My clothes are there! The magic did something to us! It made you forget! Put me down! Please!"
Your screams fall on deaf ears as you are carried toward the exit.