Doctor Oh Doctor

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
a short story i wrote in a creative writing class. tell me what you think.

Submitted: August 27, 2010

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Submitted: August 27, 2010

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Doctor, oh, Doctor

“Lucifer is…” a tic interrupted the young man’s speech, “…taking photographs of…” another tic, “…using his microscopic telescope which is implanted into the cracks on every third tile of the floor and ceiling…”

You step back away from window that allows you to watch the white walled cushioned room unseen by the patient. You shiver at the cold that always grips any hospital (touch

You turn and look at the doctor standing a few feet behind you. “He was transferred here from the city?”

“Yes, he just came in.” She answers in her usual high nasal voice.

“Then why are you, the head of neurology, here?”

She stares past you at the boy in the padded room.

Three seconds pass before she finally responds, “He’s my nephew.”

“I’ll treat him like any other patient.” You assure her.

“Yes of course,” she agrees quickly, “I wouldn’t expect anything else, I was just here to get your professional opinion.”

“After I review his case I’ll be sure to provide you with my professional advice and then follow up with any services he requires.” You then look down at the envelopes she’s clutching in her hands. “Once you give me his files …”

She blushes a deep red as she realizes her mistake, “Oh yes, of course, sorry…” she apologizes as she holds out the tan envelopes to you.

You reach out to take the envelope. But she releases the papers before they get to you hand. They hit the floor, emitting a loud smack (sound) as the envelope opens and the papers scatter across the ground. You both immediately crouch to pick up the papers, you chin smacks into her head, causing a flash of pain.

“Sorry,” you both say, but yours comes out wrong.

You then taste metal in your mouth, and heat begins to spread down your jaw.

“You’re bleeding!”

“I’m okay,” you sputter out, blood spitting out over the floor as you do. You quickly cover your mouth to stop the flow of blood.

“Nurse!” she yells out the door into the hallway.

A nurse then steps inside the room, sees you, and immediately runs back out. She comes back a few seconds later with a hypodermic of some sort.

“This is really serious,” the nurse states as she sticks the needle into your skin.

You cringe as the pain gets worse. The injection doubled the pain so that now it felt like a hammer had hit you instead of this lady’s head. Then the blood flows more freely now, it begins to soak your coat and pants. Soon the entire room is filled with its foul odor.

The room begins to spin, and you black out as the blood floods the room and fills you mouth with its vile metallic taste, and nose with its foul smells of rust .

You awaken on a bed. The bed is small and stiff with straps binding your ankles and wrists. You look around to see a familiar room with padded walls and only one window.

You know you won’t be able to fight against the bindings so instead you yell out. You yell, and scream, and curse until your throat is raw and your voice hoarse.

But then the door opens, and the lady whose head you had hit your jaw on walks into the room.

“So? How’s my favorite nephew doing?”


© Copyright 2018 Benadict Jack. All rights reserved.

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