Said the girl who found herself staring at her dentist's cold, dark eyes, "My cavities are not there." Her childhood fears started coming back to haunt her again. The dentist's metal instruments looked murderous. His mask added, all the more, to the eerie feel of the decrepit room.
She stared into the mirror that he held up in protest. Indeed, the microscopic holes in her teeth were there, visible to the naked eye. She noticed her pimples, and thought of how they made her look like the devil to others. Her hair seemed distraught, the ironic opposite of what was portrayed on the cover of her shampoo bottle. Everything was wrong with her eyes, her ears, her nose, her mouth, her skin.
Her soul.
A flush of thoughts rushed through her -- her lonely childhood at the orphanage after her parents' death; her mourning at her dearest's funeral; her running down the school hallways escaping from the bullies.
She tried, to live as any other would. Normal. But she could not succeed.
Maybe the dentist had the solutions. Her eyes flickered to the sharp gleams resting on the counter. One, two, three.
"Say ah," said the dentist.
"Ahhh," the girl complied. Today, she was getting her teeth fixed. Maybe tomorrow, she'd be able to live as another would. A normal life.
Someday, everything will be fixed.
It just depends on how long it'll take that day to come.
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