Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1111212-Beauty-Myth
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Fantasy · #1111212
A psychopathic doctor takes the quest for beauty too far. Is death really a better option?
“Fatty, fatty two by four, can’t fit through the kitchen door!”
“Chub master”
“Rolley Polley”
“Captain Humungo”
This is my chant, for as long as I can remember it has been on perpetual replay in my mind, haunting me, taunting me, it will never leave me alone.

Dr Morrows is sort of weird, from what I can tell he doesn’t have many friends or foes. I used to have lots of friends now I only have enemies. I suppose if you have no friends, it is hard to have foes. I have been treated by him for three years now, he talks to me a lot but the conversation has always revolved around me and my problems followed by his prognosis. I try to ask him questions about himself but he never answers them or he avoids them. He is a big man and always wears a huge white robe; he always has on a sparkly ruby on his left pinky finger. I think it’s on that finger because it won’t fit on any others.

I have an under active thyroid gland which basically means that things inside me aren’t working properly so I’m fat, not chubby fat I mean fat, fat like a hippo. The kids at school say that I have more rolls than a bakery. They are mean to me but I try to ignore them. My mum says karma will get them, but I don’t want bad things to happen to them I just want them to stop teasing me and be my friends again.

Dr Morrows came in to give me a check up today. His hands are warm on my back as he investigates my breathing patterns with a stethoscope, I can feel his pulse pounding through his stubby fingertips onto my back. He monitors my blood pressure and does lots of other tests too. When he is finished he gives me a faint smile and says
“I’ll see you tomorrow and you will be better.”

The chant pounds in my head over and over again. I will keep fighting, they can’t break me. I’m stronger than they are, victory shall yet be mine, all I need is to bide my time. Restore freedom to the weak. Things will come to a head and calm will be restored as the chants in my mind are destroyed.

Dr Morrows came in this morning and told me about a new treatment that will make me skinny and not fat anymore. I was so happy when he told me about the surgery I could have. After I have the surgery the kids can’t tease me and I won’t have to stay in this hospital. He said that as soon as I had the operation I would never have to be treated by him again. I will be sad to say goodbye to him but I won’t be sad to say goodbye to my big fat belly. He asked my mum to sign all the consent forms and explained the procedure to her. I can’t remember what it was called; I think it was suction or something. I wonder why Dr Morrows never had the same thing done. Lets face it he isn’t exactly slim. But soon I will be, I can play and run and jump and have friends again.

I was told I wasn’t aloud to eat for twenty-four hours before the surgery and that it will be the hardest part of the surgery. But it will be worth it to see my toes wriggle again, to be able to climb trees like all the other kids, to ride a bike without people laughing at me as I ride by.

The chanting becomes louder beating incessantly upon my temples. Soon the cries of cruelty will be hushed then silenced. The coming of the savior is upon us, the chosen one has already arrived. The time is drawing near and soon freedom will resonate, beauty will be restored.

My stomach feels like it is going to eat itself and it’s growling like a wild animal. I don’t mind though because it is for a good cause. Dr Morrows came in and gave me my last set of tests this morning before my surgery at two pm just after lunch time. After he had finished all his tests the nurse came in and explained the procedure to my mum again. Mum nodded her head and smiled over at me.

The nurse came back at one pm to prepare me for the surgery; I wore a big blue dressing gown and had a blue cap on my head. I looked like a big blue marshmallow. Oh that makes me think about food, I am so hungry. Don’t think about it I say to myself this is more important. When I finish dressing the nurse calls for two men and they lift me onto a bed that has wheels. They are nice to me and make me laugh, they tell me that they will see me in the recovery lounge later on and bring me an apple. My mum holds my hand and gives me her pendant to hold onto for good luck. I kiss her and tell her I will see her soon. The men wheel the bed to the operating room which they call the OR and leave me to wait by myself. The next person I see is Dr Morrows as he puts a big mask on my face and I ….

Screaming now, abuse rips and tears at my brain. The time of reckoning has arrived. The transformation has begun, the voices will be silenced, and the pain will melt away. I am the savior, I am bringing freedom, I am freeing him of pain. This was the new chant that will replace the abusive chant. Repeat it again I am the savior, I am bringing freedom, I am freeing him of pain. Faster, faster and faster, I plunge deeper and ever deeper. Harder, faster. In and out! It is a beautiful cycle of entering and retracting the long silver rod.

Good Evening, I’m Sophie Talmitch. Today I am sad to report a young boy has died on the operating table at the Gregoran hospital. It appears an over zealous surgeon convinced a boy and his mother to agree to liposuction surgery. Throughout the procedure the over enthusiastic surgeon perforated the thirteen year-old’s intestine. The doctor was manically removing fat and did not notice the puncture leaving the boy to die. We cross over live now with Dave Natoli at the hospital as he interviews Dr Morrows…
© Copyright 2006 sammy baby (sammybaby at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1111212-Beauty-Myth