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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1627321-Mad-part-two
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Drama · #1627321
part two of Mad.
His eyes closed for a split second. He showed some signs of amusement, but they faded quickly.

“My name is Dr. Carter.” He said, ready to continue, but I cut him off.

“Fine then, what are you here for?” I asked, imitating his businesslike tone.

“I, am here to give you a quick check-up.” He said.

“And if I don’t need a quick check-up?” I asked.

“You won’t move from this room until you’ve had one.” He told me.

“Fine.” I said, defeated. “Check away. You won’t find anything.”

He started getting out various little tools. A Tongue depressor.

Tweezers. Nail file. Comb. Reflex hammer. Sponge. Washcloth.

He lined them all up in a particular order.

“Could you stand up?” he asked.

“Just against the wall.” He finished.

I stood against the wall, and he took my height.

“On the scales, please.” I stood on the scales. He took my weight.

I sat on the bench again.

He sat on a stool and looked straight into my eyes. I rolled my eyes and bugged them open so he could have a better look. He unclipped a little pen light from his chest pocket and shined it in my eyes. Naturally, I squinted in the light I turned my head away. He caught my chin and realigned my head. I opened my eyes again, feeling embarrassed. He repeated the light process, and I’m proud to say that I only squinted a tiny bit.

He wrote something on the clipboard again.

The man took something off the tray. He put it into my ear, and he looked intently into it.

He took it out, changed the tip and said. “okay, chin up.” I tilted my head skyward.

He put it in my nose and looked into it with the same expression. I tried not to laugh at his face, because one of his eyes was entirely closed and his head was tilted to the side. The whole effect wade me want to laugh out loud.

Then, He lifted up my eyelids and peered at them.

“open your mouth, please.” He said.

I sighed. I hate people looking at my mouth.

I only hate dentists slightly more that I hate regular doctors. And this guy wanted to be both. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth. My tongue stud glinted in the light. The doctor looked at it then closed his eyes.“A stud.” He regained composure.“Take it out.” He ordered.

“Why?” I asked angrily.

“You take it out or I will.” He said.

I rolled my eyes. I took the stud out and said “that won’t work forever.”

“It won’t have to.” He had started doing little tests again.

“Why not? I’m crazy right? Crazy people need blackmail.”

“No, you’re not, and no, they don’t. Blackmail is an ugly habit and I don’t know why I use it.”

“Open.” He instructed to my mouth.

“Oh, you know why. Because you’re bigger than me and you want me to know it.” I said in a fake timid and frightened voice.

I opened and in went the tongue depressor.

“I think you know it already.”

He briefly looked around in my mouth and took the depressor out.

“Course I do. You have wrinkles. Only old people and really stressed teenagers have wrinkles.”

“I must be a stressed teenager then.” I was slowly becoming more comfortable with Dr. Carter.

And all it took was me to say “that won’t work forever.”

Then something hit me.

He said that I wasn’t crazy. And right now, that was the highest form of compliment.

He had picked up my hand. Then he dropped it and skated backwards on the stool. He dug into a drawer and pulled out a bottle. Then he skated forwards and set the bottle on the table.

Nail polish remover.

“no way, matey. This took me hours!”

My fingernails were covered in tiny black and white checks. I had to use a toothpick to scratch the designs on. “do you want me to use blackmail?” he asked with a smile.

“I sure do.” I said. “and make it good.”

He thought for a bit.

“if you don’t let me remove your masterpiece...”

“I have two options, one is a bit sappy and it will appeal to your better nature.

And one involves giant bugs. Which one?”

“I’m in a very sappy mood, today. Try me.”

“good, I hate giant bugs.” He said, ready to continue.

“maybe I should have picked that one then.”

“if you don’t let me take it off, all the other children will be very jealous of you....”

And I finished his sentence. “And we can’t give you special privileges just because it took you 3.5 hours to do your nails.”

He nodded with a small smile.

I sighed. “Alright.”

He took the polish off, and then looked at my face again.

He went to the drawer again and came back with another bottle.

He picked up the washcloth. The doctor poured something onto the cloth.

“let me guess. You have to perform major surgery now, but you have no anaesthetic left, So you have to use chloroform.” I said, indicating to the bottle.

“Close, but no cigar.”

“makeup.” He mouthed.

“Uh, would you believe, I ran into a cupboard with dual handles and they’re both black eyes?” I asked, pointing with two fingers at my very dark and copiously applied black eyeliner.

He raised is eyebrows ever so slightly and tilted his head to the left side. “Fine.” I said, only slightly annoyed, and closed my eyes.

He swept the cloth over my eye, working hard to get the eyeliner off.

He finally got it off and wiped off my blush and lipstick. Easy.

“That’s better.” He smiled fondly. “Oh, hold on.” He picked up the nailfile.

“hand.” He said. I gave him my hand and he started to file my nails right down.

Really short. I had no nails above the tip of my fingers.

“oh!” I exclaimed.

“now I can’t scratch your eyes out.”

He laughed. Good. Then he moved on to the few braids dangling in my fringe. I sighed, and he reached up to untie the elastic bands. When he undid the braids, my hair was crimped and frizzy, surprisingly greasy, and it was sticking up all over the place. I looked up. and shook my head. Damn, those braids could have stayed there for weeks. “Can I keep the beads?”I asked weakly. He smiled. “Sure.” He said, transferring them from a little glass dish into my open palm.

Then, he looked thoughtfully at the rest of my hair. “Are those extensions?” he asked, squinting his eyes. “Colours a bit too bright, Mac?” I asked. ‘I know nothing about hair, so I’ll leave them.” I nodded. “Damn straight.” I said, fingering the blue and orange pieces.

“Right then, I think we’re done.” The Doctor said. I gave a curt nod and he stood and picked up the phone on the wall.

“yeah, I’m done. I’ll take her to her room.”

Goody. My room.

“let’s go.” He said.

I walked out the door and started to walk up the hallway to my room.

Let’s hope it had a view.







My room was number 114.

As I walked in, I noticed that Dr. Carter had something in his hand.

“new clothes.” He said, and handed them to me.

“thanks.”

The room had one bed, light blue carpet and white walls.

It looked so sterile, so clean and boring in here.

I looked around and shook my head.

What is the point of making the rooms boring?

“okay.” He said, thinking.

“You’d better get dressed.” He finished, stepping out of the room and closing the door.

I stepped into the room and sat down on the bed, looking at the pile of clothes.

5 dress things, with a collar, a pocket on the breast and buttons down the front.

3 similar garments, cotton, with no buttons or pockets. A white tee shirt, a pair of boxers.

White cloth shoes, white socks, blue and white ribbon, and a pair of fuzzy slippers. Now that, I did like. 3 towels, some shampoo, conditioner.

I dressed in the dress with buttons and put my shoes and socks on.

I tied my hair in the ribbon, fluffing out the pony tail and spiking up the extensions so they stood up at odd angles.

I sat on the bed and thought.

What to do? I’d get lost or in trouble if I went anywhere. then, suddenly, a feeling of amazing sadness flooded over my soul. I was in a hospital. Filled with doctors, needles and crazy kids. Looking keenly at boring light blue carpet.

There was a knock at the door.

I opened it carefully, and Dr. Carter was standing outside still.

“It’s almost dinnertime.” He said.

“I’m not hungry.” I told him. Which was sad. I like to eat. But I had a feeling I wouldn’t like anything they served here.

“you should eat something.” He said.

“I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I want to stay right here and never move.”

I slammed the door and walked quickly to my bed. Wow.

He caught the door before it slammed, shut it gently and followed me inside.

“why don’t you want to move?” he asked.

I ignored him.

“if you did, I could give you a tour of the hospital.”

I pulled the pillow on top of my head.

He moved it so he could see my eyes.

“we could stay and talk.” He suggested.

And moved the pillow and nodded slowly. “okay.”

“Alright.” He said thoughtfully.

“what music do you like?” he asked.

“a bit of rock, Punk. Like the Ramones or the pistols.”

“ah.” He said.

“what about you?” I asked.

“I’m not big on music.” He said.

I made a face.

“Not me.” I said, shaking my head. “I love music. And as long as the drumming is completely out of line with the guitar and they scream the words, I’m all good.”

He laughed and said “I think you’d like my friend.” he said.

“is he – slash – she as boring and dry as you?” I asked.

“not even close.” He said. ”I’ll call him.”

He walked to the phone on the wall.

“Sarah, is Mark around? Thanks.” He smiled at me.

“hey Mark, are you busy? No. Can you come to room 114?

Okay, see you soon.” He hung the phone up and returned to his seat.

“he’s coming.” He said.

“coming?” asked a voice. “he’s here! Assuming you mean me.”

A man walked in. He wore a coat like any other, but he had a smiley embroidered onto the pocket. He had very dark brown hair, a cheery smile, a mild Elvis quiff.

“hey, Mark.” Said dr. Carter in a voice so casual I thought someone had possessed him.

“this is Frannie.” He said, indicating to me.

“hey Frannie.” He said.

“uh, Jared, what are we doing here?”

“having a chat.” He said.

“about what?”

Dr. Carter shrugged.

I tapped Dr. Carter on the shoulder and whispered into his ear.

He nodded and chuckled.

Talking to his friend, he said:

“she wants to know what she can call you.”

Looking at me, he smiled a dazzling smile and said

“you could call me Mark. Or, you could call me Dr. Hanton, or, this is my personal favourite, you could call me yours.” He moved onto the bed next to me.

“you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on.”

© Copyright 2009 LunacyCerulean (lunacycerulean at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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