The Wire Contraption

Everyone had them. Some thought they were a hassle, while others thought of them as “cool.” The process was grueling and tedious. Two hours or more sitting in a dental chair with that blazing light in your face, wondering. Wondering if it will be painful, wondering if you will look okay, wondering what people will think. All these thoughts flooded into her head and she hadn’t even left yet.
The next morning, the anticipation was building. The thoughts swarmed into her head as if they were bees in a beehive that someone had disturbed. Her stomach had an awful pain, a pain that one might get after being punched. She felt uneasy about the whole idea. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change her mind. No, she had to go through with it. The benefits would last a lifetime.
Her mother called her to come down the stairs. It was as if she were being summoned to a horrible fate. She slowly crept down the stairs, attempting to stop time. Once she reached the bottom of the staircase, she followed her mother into the hallway and out into the garage. She quietly opened the shiny car door and sat down on the smooth seat. The rumbling of the motor started and the great machine rolled onto the slick road and headed to its destination. She knew that when she would return she would not be the same as before. Was it possible for one simple thing to change a person? In this case, it could change anyone.
They arrived at the conjoined buildings. There was a dentist office on the right and an art school on the left. There it is, right in the middle, orthodontics. The office wasn’t that big, but at the moment it seemed to be as big as an ocean. She sat down on the chair in the corner and secretly glanced at the neighboring magazines.
Her mother signed her in. Have you been here before? Yes. Appointment time? 10:45. Arrival time? 10:30. Her mom joined her after filling out the sign-in sheet. All signed in. Excited? Her mother looked at her for a response. She looked at her mother and glanced back at the magazine. She nodded and proceeded to talk, when a broad door opened.
A woman stepped out and called her name. Korina? She looked up and quietly arose from her chair and followed the woman. The woman was about five feet seven inches. She had curly blond hair that was pulled back in a black hair tie. She wore pastel pink scrubs that were adorned with little brown bears hugging teeth. Interesting partnering the girl thought. The woman guided her to a chair placed in the center of the back room. She looked around and noticed pieces of long silver wire glistening beneath the light overhead.
The tools were lined up on a little table that extended like an arm from the side of the chair. The tools were shiny and gleaming after being cleaned.
The doctor will be right with you. She now had a moment to gather her thoughts. It will be fine. It won’t hurt at- she peered up and noticed a man holding her file. The man was in his fifties and his dark eyes hid behind the thick lenses of his round glasses. He was very tall and wore a long white coat with pens peeking over the brim of his pocket. Hi, how are you this morning? She replied by saying she was fine and he told her what the plan was.
Before she knew it, the slender chair was lowered and the plump headrest was tilted back. She noticed a familiar face. The woman who led her to the chair was now handing the doctor a variety of tools. The tools were sticking out in between her fingers and it looked similar to a robotic hand. Wires were now sticking out of the girl’s mouth. The woman was moving them about as if she was trying to find reception on an old television.
Her teeth were already sore from the tightening of the wire. Earlier they were gluing little blocks on the front of her teeth. It seemed like the doctor and the woman were engineers and that there were building some type of intriguing wire contraption.
An hour has passed. One more hour to go and the “torture” would be completed. Out of no where, the girl was handed a Ziploc bag that was filled with an assortment of colored bands. For some reason, this seemed to have taken her mind off of the tugging and pulling on her teeth, which caused pain. She couldn’t decide on a color. She thought and thought about all the possible colors and combinations that could be created. Purple? No, blue! No, green! Yeah, green was a great choice. She had a chance to decide on what color she wanted next time because she was told that every month her mouth would be “tortured” again and that new bands would be applied. The woman attached the green bands on the front of the contraption in her mouth. Afterwards, she was given some sort of a menu, but instead of being able to feast on these foods, she was told to avoid these delicacies. She thought about how this had just made her day worse. No candy, no gum, and no popcorn. No fun! Well, at least it was over.
She was led out of the door and back into a familiar room, the waiting room. She looked at her mom and her mother knew it was time to leave. The girl walked to the front desk and received an appointment card. She certainly knew this wasn’t a golden ticket. Her mother opened the exit door and they both walked out into the parking lot. She was not ready for the hot sun to release its harsh rays down onto her. She hurried to the car door and put her hand on the sizzling door handle and climbed inside. The seat was burning and her mother started the car. The cool air blasted and made her hair look like waves hitting the side of her face. She settled back and adjusted the air so that it released a cool breeze.
The head rest on her seat reminded her of the one from the uncomfortable dental chair. That memory also brought back one more thing, the pain. It was expected, but forgotten. She arrived home and sat on the soft and comforting couch. She was grasping her cheeks with her hands and slowly began to drift off to sleep. The pain was there, but so was the thought of the end result. That thought was enough to diminish the pain.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback