Hello my fellow Star Viewers! It has been a bit of a hiatus here but I am back with a new story just in time for the most wonderfully spooky time of year, Halloween! I was inspired to write this story after dentist appointments with my kids and silly conversations about Halloween ghouls. I kept it a tight 999 words. But we all know there can always be room for one more! I hope you enjoy!
A Trip to the Dentist
by Shanel Wilson
“Waaaluungeh emmm.”
“What was that, dear? Here. Spit first,” The dental hygienist hands me a cone-like cup attached to a grey hose so I can spit the uncomfortably minty mouthwash out.
As I do, a low whirl of suction pulls the bubbly, blue mouthwash down the hose. It was oddly comforting to watch.
“I said “a long time.” I honestly can’t remember going to the dentist before today.” My eye catches a faint red speck on the wall.
“It’s never too late to take care of your teeth, I always say,” the hygienist kindly pats my sweatered arm. “My! You’re freezing! Do you need a blanket? I think we have some for the surgery patients in the supply room.”
“Ah, no. No, thank you. Just a bit nervous. I can’t imagine something happening to my teeth.” Out of instinct, my tongue slides over their smooth surface. I quickly ram my lips shut, very aware of the hygienist’s gaze.
I never dreamed I’d be in this situation. In all these years, I have never had the slightest hint of a toothache, let alone a loose tooth. I didn’t think it was possibly given all the other elements of my, um, lifestyle. But alas, here I am, at the very last appointment on a dim, autumn’s eve. At the dentist. I imagine my mother rolling in her coffin if she knew. She has never been one to be motherly, but still, her words ring in my ears, “If you haven’t got your teeth, how can you take a bite out of life?!”
“It’s normal to be nervous at the dentist. You’ll love Dr. Bathory. Now, to get started, I’ll do a small cleaning while we wait for her. Any areas of concern?” The hygienist puts on her protective face visor, smiling.
“My incisors feel a bit, um, wiggly? It’s affecting my bite.” I exhale unsteadily, tapping my pearlescent fingernails on the plasticky armrests.
The chair begins to fall away behind me. My hands grasp ahold of the armrest, crushing the padding. My wide eyes see the hygienist hovering over me, grin still plastered to her face.
“Just adjusting the seat to get a better view of those lovely teeth. There. Okay, please open wide!”
My hands loosen their grip slightly, but I hesitate to open my mouth. I’ve never let anyone this close to my mouth, outside of mealtimes.
“Don’t be shy dear.” The hygienist holds her shiny, silver tools at the ready, inches from my face.
Here goes nothing.
I close my eyes and open my lips, exposing my pale white teeth. I brace for the inevitable comment about how large and pointy they are, but hygienist simply dives into her cleaning, delicately but without hesitation. With each poke and scrape, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I blink my eyes open to keep myself grounded. I find the red spot again. Was it paint or a missed piece of blood flung from a patient’s mouth? There was a comforting, tinny tinge in the air here. And, at least the mystery of the spot is keeping my mind off what is going on in my mouth.
~~~
I rub my faintly swollen jaw and absentmindedly toss my keys in the dish in the marble entry as I step inside our large, ancient house. I regret it immediately. The keys’ echo reverberates through the two-story foyer.
I pause, turning my ear toward the grand staircase in front of me. No other noises follow in response, so I cling to hope that everyone else is still asleep. I tiptoe up the spiraling staircase over the threadbare carpet runner. Creaks from the wood below it moan despite my best efforts to tread lightly.
Most of the darkly stained wooden doors along the hallway are closed, but the door at the end is ajar. Uh-oh. Maybe she just forgot to shut it before going to bed?
I stop at the door just before the open one and quietly open it, leading to my room. Behind me, the sound of rustling fabric followed by squeaking hinges stops me in my tracks.
“Is that you, my child?” My mother’s voice lilts through her door to me.
I freeze halfway into my room. Bats, she’s awake.
“Yes, Mother, I… just got up. Sorry to bother your slumber.”
“Now, no need for any false pretenses, Carmilla. Come in.”
“Coming.” My head bangs my doorframe in frustration before I turn and open my mother’s door wide.
My mother was just loosening the velvet floor length curtains letting in a shimmering ray of moonlight across the crimson paisley area rug. The reflection of a small set of candles on the clawfoot side table played in the shine of the ebony coffin at the center of the room. The lining was a deep burgundy satin, still rumpled from a long day’s rest.
“Where were you at this ungodly hour?” My mother turns and floats to me, touching my hair and clothes as if hoping they will yield some clue as to my recent whereabouts.
“It’s not important. I wasn’t out too early. It’s already getting darker earlier.”
My mother’s eyes dart to my mouth. She grabs a hold of my jaw. I wince, still tender from the poking and prodding from the cleaning. She twists and turns my face trying to get a good look at my teeth.
“What did you do to your fangs?!” she says, her dark pupils growing even larger.
“It’s only a retainer. It’s just for when I’m not eating. It’s not a big deal, I just…“ My hands wave in a nervous, vague sort of way.
“A retainer?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to worry you, but my fangs felt loose so I went to a dentist.”
“A human dentist?” My mother’s hand drops to her side, but she doesn’t take her eyes off my teeth.
“In the four hundred years I’ve been alive, I’ve never heard of any vampire dentists, Mother.”
Star Views by Shanel 