Vlad is in 6th grade. This is a little snippet, not too significant to the story. This was written back in June... I switched computers and forgot about this file.
The sneaker was black, inside and out, top and bottom. The sneaker was simple and plain in design and universal in a color that could be worn with any of the boy's clothes. Vlad owned two pairs of shoes. One pair was black and the other pair was black. They were sturdy, efficient, and of a good quality. But Vlad was scrutinizing the shoe with a wrinkled brow and a small frown, trying to identify what faults the shoe possessed. He was sitting in the chair at the end of the table with the shoe near his face when the door opened and his uncle entered, locking the door behind him and turning to see the boy and his black shoe. Walter frowned, stepping forward with his eyes lingering on the child and the shoe, walking gradually as his curiosity slowed the moment for his analysis.
"Something wrong with your shoe, or do you enjoy the smell?"
Vlad glanced at his uncle, his eyebrows twitching with surprise, and then he frowned harder at the object of his puzzlement. He blinked after a moment. "It doesn't smell."
It was quiet and Walter stopped beside one of his shelves, his hand going to the pocket of his vest while his frown remained on his face. His eyes were on his nephew. "Is it supposed to? What are you doing with your shoe at the table? -Keep it on the floor, not where you put food. That's common sense, boy. But I guess you've shown you lack that."
The shoe hid in Vlad's lap and he slackened his frown to face his uncle. "I'm just using the light to look at it." The boy's head went down so that he could peek at the shoe, hoping to be permitted to continue his search. Walter's curiosity was diminishing, turning into annoyance that became visible with the deepening creases marking his eyes.
"What's wrong with it?"
"I don't know, and that's what I'm looking for. Kid's at school are making fun of my shoes and I don't know what's wrong with them."
Walter's frown maintained its position, but his eyes eased back from his annoyance, bringing him closer to the boy and the black shoe when he began to walk again. He stood behind Vlad's chair, looking down at the shoe. "Put it in the light."
Vlad did with a little frown and a nod of thanks, and then he stared at the shoe with his uncle. Walter's patience for such idle things as looking at shoes was thin, and soon he was scowling. He turned away and went into the next room, calling back to the boy as he left.
"There's nothing wrong with your shoe, now put it back on your foot where it belongs."
The shoe hung reluctantly in Vlad's loosening grasp until he set it on the floor beside his other shoe. They were still black and simple in the light or in the shadow. The boy lost track of time during his observation of the shoe. He was still staring at one and then the other when Walter returned and then stopped with a scowl in the doorway. "What are you doing?"
"There's something wrong with my shoes and I don't know what it is. I like them. They're comfy and they work and everything….they do everything a shoe is supposed to do. But people say they're bad shoes. ..A boy in my class got the same shoes as me and everyone made fun of him and told him to get new ones. They said that they're gross. That they're 'Vlad-shoes'. …So there's something wrong with my shoes." Vlad rattled off his reasoning and stated his conclusion in a matter of fact way.
Walter listened as his nephew spoke, watching the boy with hard indifference until the end. Then his shoulder's straightened, aware of the odd connection. "What the hell are 'Vlad-shoes'?"
Vladimir looked at the man with a plain expression, holding only his persistent confusion. "My shoes."
Red blinked at Walter, seeing no response in the man as he gazed back at the boy. But Walter's teeth had clenched and his mind had skipped between feelings that were not quite emotions and were too underdeveloped to become thoughts. Vlad-shoes. Vlad-shoes. Vlad-shoes… It sounded bad. His name had become an insult. His name had become something disgraceful, disgusting, and shunned. The boy was shunned, and he was disgraceful and disgustingly weak. Damn it. It wasn't worth the time he was wasting. Walter scowled, hissing a curse before leaving the room. Vlad went back to staring at his shoes. The boy leaned down and moved one of the shoes with his hand, gripping it and rocking the shoe as if it was on a walking foot. He left his hand on the shoe and stared at it again.
"But I like my shoes…" Red eyes did not stray from the shoe until the boy sighed and closed them. Vlad picked up the shoes and went to the closet in the next room to put them where they belonged, letting out another sigh when he bent to set them down. "Ah, whatever. I'm still gonna wear them for my graduation ceremony. They're good shoes. Good shoes…" Standing straight and peering down at the shoes with narrowed, searching eyes, Vlad took several moments before grabbing his sleeping clothes that were hanging in the closet and going to bed.