Dedicated (again) to indigoapples for being the sweetest and best reader out there. Thanks so much for being my party of one fan base ;)
[ UNEDITED]
My eyes blink open slowly, heaviness lingering on them like a thick blanket.
"Hwhere ham hI?" I try and ask, my mouth feeling like it's been filled with cotton.
My tongue hits something at the back of my mouth.
Cotton.
Oh well isn't that ironic.
I continue to enquire as to where I am and what the heck I'm doing here when several nurses rush in and lay their grimy manicured hands on me, holding me down.
"Honey settle down. You're in Doctor Burn's office; you've had your wisdom teeth removed." One of them speaks softly. I recognize her as the women who helped with my surgery.
"Hwhere's my mom?" I groan, my head feeling both heavy and light at the same time. I allow it to fall back onto the leather head rest.
"She's still in the waiting room sweetie. Your boyfriend is waiting there too so just sit tight and let us go get you a wheelchair, okay?"
I mumble something under my breath about me not having a boyfriend and them being crazy.
I sigh as they all shuffle out of the room speaking in hushed tones about whether or not some guy named Martin is going to leave his wife and what he'll do with his three bratty children.
I scoff at their behavior, "Scoff!" I exclaim, looking around the dull room.
At this moment I feel...weird.
Yeah that's the word.
A familiar pop song comes spewing out of my mouth, the words getting mumbled and jumbled as they're processed through two hunks of roller up cotton on either side of my mouth.
"Wake up in the morning feeling like p diddy I grab my glasses,I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit the city!" I sing loudly to myself, my voice cracking once or twice.
I spot an ice pack on the table next to me as I sing, therefore making a grab for it. My fingers don't quite reach causing me to groan loudly in annoyance.
"Before I leave brush my teeth with a bottle of - ugh - jack. Cuz when I leave for the night I ain't coming back."
I shimmy closer to the edge of the seat, leaning over and finally touching the cold pack with my fingertips.
"Everybody getting crunk crunk boys tryna touch my - "
My eyes widen when I lose my grip on the table and chair, gravity taking effect and pulling me to the floor.
I flop onto the cold tiled floor with a grunt. Rolling over, I position myself to stand but my arms wiggle and shake under my weight causing me to lay back onto the floor once again.
"Ugh. Why." I huff.
As I lay there contemplating life and all of its complexities, staring up at the bright lights in the ceiling, I can't help but ask the important questions.
"Why are there so many flavors of vanilla ice cream? Vanilla bean, French vanilla, creamy vanilla...isn't vanilla a flavor in itself?" I whisper to the ceiling, my bones feelings like jello and my head feeling like I'm floating in the clouds.
"Ooooh clouds." I giggle to myself finding this strangely funny.
"Oh my goodness!" I hear someone exclaim from the doorway. I roll my eyes at the interruption.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
Five Things
Подростковая литератураThis story involves many things. Perhaps it's clichè and perhaps it's not. It's the story of Max Keller. The girl who was forced to move and transfer schools when she was fourteen only to be harassed by a boy with lots of freckle and lots of questi...
