Misplaced

Boston

The air around me was hot, and sticky. I tried to wiggle free, but I only managed to wedge myself deeper. My lower half was twisted around peanut butter coated molars, my midsection was punctured by two, large canines, while the rest of my body hung from her drooling jowls. There was no escape.

We were picking up speed, zooming from room to room when Ellie suddenly stopped short. She spat me out, save for my midsection, and began whipping me back and forth as hard as she could against the side of her face. She continued to do this in an attempt to get the human, whose foot she stole me from, sitting in front of the computer to play with her.

After only receiving a few chin, and behind the ear scratches, Ellie snorted her disappointment and pranced to the living room. Beside the couch, was Ellie’s massive basket of bones, and chew toys. She plopped down in front of the basket and began her chewing mission by gnawing on my entire body as an appetizer. She even tossed me up into the air a couple of times. It was always a losing game with Ellie, but the amount of fun she was having was hard to dislike. I had to just wait it out.

Fortunately, as the groaning, biting, and snorting increased, Ellie finally decided it was time to set me free. She used her warm, sandpaper tongue to push me out her mouth, but one of my torn strings got caught around two incisors. It was a small grace because as she whipped me against her face to release my hold, I saw one of the possible trajectories of my flight path.

If I was lucky enough to fly left, I would land in the kitchen, and be scooped up by one of the humans and returned to my mate in the drawer, or be sent to the hamper to await cleaning. If I flew right, I would land directly in front of the mouth of the dark space.

That’s what the other socks and I call the dark space beneath the couch. Socks, an occasional dog ball, and all other sorts of small items go in, but they never come out. In the last month alone we’ve lost three good socks to the dark space. Two of them were Harry Potter themed, but were from separate pairs, and the other one was Star Wars themed. That sock was my best friend. They were all my friends, and they haven't been seen since.

I myself am an emerald green, Boston Celtics, crew cut, wool sock. I am also the favorite. When in the drawer, us socks keep track of which pair gets chosen the most. Although lately we’ve been betting on who’s going to go missing next.

My partner and I have been most recently ranked as the most chosen pair, and therefore the most worn socks in the entire drawer. It’s an honor every sock dreams to achieve when they first enter the drawer.

This was definitely not the time to go missing.

I could feel my string loosen its grip around Ellie’s tooth, and I knew I couldn’ t hold on any longer.

Finally slipping free, I closed my eyes because I was terrified to see in which direction I was heading. That also meant I couldn't judge by feeling whether or not I was flying left, or flying right. Moments later, I crashed to the hardwood floor, and came to a sliding stop. My eyes were still shut, but I could feel the warmth from the lights embrace the fabric of my body. If that were true, then that meant I did not land in the dark space. So I opened my eyes.

I wasn’t in the kitchen, which was concerning, but I also wasn’t in the dark space. I had luckily landed about a foot in front of the couch, just along the edge of the rug. I knew I wasn’t in any serious danger, but I was too close for comfort. The gravitational pull of the dark space was strong. I started to panic.

I tried to get Ellie’s attention, hoping she would want to chew on me some more, but she was intensely occupied with one of her marrow bones. My only hope was for my human’s toes to get cold, forcing him to come and rescue me. So I waited.

The shuffling of paper, combined with the horrid squeaking of the computer chair, told me that my human was getting up. Ellie’s head shot in the direction of the office, ready to see where our human was going, and then judging whether or not she needed to follow him.

Another noise echoed out of the office, a noise I’ll never forget. The noise of Ellie’s most fearsome adversary.

Vacuum.

After a few moments of consuming every hair, and peanut butter crumb on the office rug, our human and Vacuum came out into the living room. Ellie dropped her marrow bone, and growled at Vacuum as it cleaned the borders of the rug she was lounging on. As Vacuum moved in closer, Ellie’s hackles rose, and she let out a low bark, and ominous growl. The human laughed at her reaction, which meant Vacuum must have taken control of his body, because Vacuum bolted straight towards Ellie.

I can remember it in slow motion.

Vacuum invaded the rug, and Ellie erupted from her chew spot. The momentum of her fear caused her legs to kick backwards, forcing the rug to scrunch and flex outward. I was instantly pushed into the abyss of the dark space by the edge of the rug.

Submerged in darkness, I heard Vacuum fall silent. Ellie must have finally vanquished him. With the main threat neutralized, I knew that our human would soon pull the rug out from beneath the couch. So I tried my hardest to latch my torn strings around the rug’s rougher fibers.

Weaving and threading, I found comfort in knowing that I would soon be out of the dark space, and back on my human’s foot where I belong. The rug started to move. This was it, my chance to get out. All I needed to do was hold on.

Approaching the light of the threshold, my strings started to loosen, and fall free. They must have lost their strength when Ellie whipped me back and forth in her mouth. Two more strands broke free. This can’t be happening.

The final strand broke free just as the rug was being pulled out. I tumbled back a few inches, then settled in a dusty pile of crumbs and hair.

This was actually happening. I was trapped within the dark space. Close enough to see out, yet far enough in to not be seen.

I tried yelling out, but my mouth was blanketed in hair, and I could hear my human asking Ellie if she wanted to go for a walk. Ellie of course barked her approval of the proposition, but then my human said something that filled my heart with hope.

“Where is my sock, Ellie? Where did you put it?”

Ellie barked and barked, trying to get him to forget about me and to hurry up and take her out. I fought to clear the hair from my mouth, but it was dense, and not easy to remove. I then heard my owner submit to Ellie’s incessant barking.

“Okay, you little psycho. You win. Another sock, lost. Looks like I have to mismatch again.”

The words broke my heart.

Was my human really giving up on me that easily? What will the other socks think? Who will take my title as champion sock? What will my partner think? Who will she end up getting re-matched with?

My mind raced, and tumbled over hundreds of bad ideas, then was quickly silenced by the jingle of Ellie’s harness. I was just about to clear the last chunk of hair from my mouth when the door to the condo opened, then closed, locking me inside of the dark space alone.

With my mouth finally cleared, I tried to look around, and regain my bearings. I saw nothing. No socks, no coins, no buttons, no dog toys. Silence consumed me as I blended into my new reality.

It’s always easy to dwell on the bad, but that’s not the sock way. We’re made for comfort. For warmth. We were designed to provide a sense of protection, and peace. So I chose to dwell on the good.

I was still close enough to the light to catch a passing whiff of Ellie’s nose. Once she found me, she would moan and bark in my direction until one of my human’s came to investigate. So all I had to do was wait for Ellie. Considering I was also her favorite sock to steal and chew, another tally we keep count of in the drawer, I knew it wouldn’t take her long to find me.

Then, something shifted in the darkness behind me.