Battle Scars

ola

I'm standing outside the dermatologist's glass window just staring through. Thinking. If I walk in with a smile on my face, my face look irritated even more and freak him out. If I don't smile, I'll look depressed and pathetic. And yes, it's a guy. A guy dermatologist. Kill me.
     Another horrifying detail I failed to mention was that he's gorgeous. He's young-looking, just fresh from the oven. He's probably around twenty-five-ish, only seven years older than me. It's great, really. He's smart, good-looking, probably rich, and perfect for me. There's just one thing. If I walk in to meet my future-husband, he just might run away screaming for his life. Which I wouldn't blame him for, but how humiliating would that be? I'm like Rudolph--except my whole face is red.
     I mentally prepared myself to endure the embarassment until I realised something. I probably wouldn't have to see him ever again. It'd be just this one time, check up, done, and that's it. He'll never have to see my distorted face ever again and I won't have to relive the up-coming moments. It's okay. It'll be over soon enough. I just have to walk in there, answer some pointless questions, he'll give me a useless prescription, and I'll be on my way. I won't be commiting suicide today. Not today.
     I took in a deep breath. No smile. It's too risky. I walked in and closed the door behind me. Mr. Good-looking or whatever his name smiled at me, showing me his beautiful, perfect teeth. I smiled back, d****t. It's like a f*****g reflex.

"Hello, your name is?" he asked.

"Emma."

"Last name?"

Duh. Of course. "Henson."

"Emma Henson, I'll be with you in a moment."

"Okay." I squeaked, sitting down in an empty seat.

As he wrote on some piece of paper, I listened to a baby screaming in another room. It's wailing was growing unbearable. It sounded like it was being starved or something. After this day, I shall vow never to have children.

"Someone's a little unhappy to be here." he said, with a smirk.

I giggled nervously. "No, of course not. I'm just a little nervous."

He stared at me, then laughed. Oh. He meant the baby.

Reviews

[oranges_melt]

ughh it's not a poem!!! grr, i didnt click that =/