dentist whore bitch monster 3: I fucked up once more

   Back again at this cursed place. This time there’s company to at least try and hug away my pain, but not a single other living soul is to be seen. The waiting room is empty aside from the always present (soulless) receptionist; wearing white as always, skin white as always — in twenty years, the hair will also be white.
   Surprisingly enough, the situation is not as depressing or haunting as it once was. This time I know that whatever pain is it I’m feeling, will go away after a few minutes of torture, and I got plenty of pain at the moment. 

   Late three hours for no reason, my aunt finally decides to show up. Starbucks iced tea in one hand and a pink donut in the other, like she doesn’t know the dangers of sugar.
   “Anastasia!” She happily exclaims, ignoring my face of distress. “What in tarnation are you doing here? Don’t tell me you got a boo boo again...”
   “Dear aunt, I sure hope you checked the voice mail I left you, and this delay is an ironic joke.”
   “What messages? Come on, let’s talk in my office”, and turning to Priscilla, “and hi, dear! Redhead, huh? This rascal sure knows how to catch quality tail.”
   Pulling me by the hand, with half a donut in her mouth, we enter the office. Each one of those hurried steps hurt like an arrow to the knee (but in my gums, cause the pain was there). 

   “So... tell me everything. What you been up to?”
   “You visited me at the hospital last week, you called me yesterday... you know what I’m up to.”
   “Shut up, I’m just trying to chit-chat. So, who’s the girl?”
   “Priscilla. She’s been taking care of me.”
   “Girlfriend? You never told me if this ‘Priscilla’ was your GF or not.”
   “We’re just really good friends. Not officially dating or anything.”
   “Yeah, I bet she’s taking ‘quite the good care’ of your ass, if you know what I mean.”
   “Don’t be weird, dude. Come on.”
   “Sure, ‘dude’... Are you going to write about today? Do you want some pen and paper?”
   “Really?”
   “Come on, I like figuring in your stories. I got the character, you know that”, takes a big sip of tea and say in a snobbish tone, “But after I make some noise in the Palais-Royal, I’ll be hitting you up about the cash.”
   “As if I’d give you any money for free promotion.”
   “So you’re admitting I’m a good actress?”
   “I’m admitting you’re a good character. It’s different.”
   “Whatever, asshole. What’s the deal today?”
   “Pain, suffering, immense distress.” 

   So she takes a look and I’m screamed at like a child,
   “You fucking bitch... Don’t you ever brush your teeth? I told you we should have fixed all the cavities, but you were all ‘blah, blah, blah, I’m gonna save money or whatever’, and now look at you!, will be forced to spend double for not caring for your teeth properly. Will I really have to babysit you to make sure you don’t die of gingivitis of something?”
   And I’m not able to respond; her fingers inside my mouth,
   “Good christ... this is a disgrace. Well, I’m starting to think you like my needles and pins, always coming back for more.”
   And the big needles and the big drill sucked the soul out of me while my whole body shook in pain and the Hillsong top hits compilation buffered on the smart TV hanging on the wall. 

   When the procedure was done, she kissed my nose and smiled,
   “You know, I like the short hair. Too bad that beautiful mane of yours is gone, but hey, you’ve always been kind of a tomboy.”
   “What a journey I lived through only to be told I’m better off as a tomboy...”
   “Oh, come on... Tomboys can be beautiful girls too, and you’ll always be a beautiful little girl to me. Maybe not so little, you’re like twice my height, but you get what I mean.”
   “Thanks, auntie.”
   “No problemo. Wanna go eat something? I suppose you ain’t hurting anymore?”
   “Subway?”
   “Subway.”
   “Chicken, pickles, BBQ, white bread.”
   “Steak, lettuce, mustard, cheese bread.”