Bzzzzzzzz. Pastel green walls turn to puke green under the noisy, glaring florescent lights. The sign saying Cleary’s Dental Services is old and battered like a cardboard box stepped on too many times. A boy sits down on scratchy tweed chairs next to his mom in the waiting room. He can almost taste the sharp cleaners in the air like a dense fog of poison. A door across the hall is open to an unoccupied room. The squeaky leather seat leans back under the spotlight. Sharp, shiny tools wait to probe him and mince him into bite size pieces. They cackle at his apprehensive glance. A chart labeled Gingivitis shows pictures of rotting yellow and black teeth with red gums leering at him with their toothless grins. ‘Come on in’ they beckon in sweet foreboding voices, ‘Sit down. We’ll take care of you.’

“Mom?”
“What sweetie?”
“I don’t feel to good.”
“Oh Chris, you’re seven years old. There is nothing scary about the dentist.”
“But --.”
“I know you don’t like it but you have to go anyway.”

Silence falls on him like a dead weight. Dread skips along his nerves as the clock ticks by. The walls start to look wobbly like Jell-O so the boy takes to connecting the dots of the ceiling. It soothes his mind the same way the sound of lapping waves at the ocean would. A drill peels a shrill evil screech down the hall accompanied by a child’s whimper. His head snaps down to see the walls swirling like a whirlpool. Panic bursts behind his eyes like firecrackers. He can hear the blood flush through his ears. Lub-dub, lub-dub.

“Ugh”
“Chris, are you okay? You’re trembling!”

Sharp tools glint in the light, decrepit teeth howl gleefully. As the puke green walls creep closer, cold sweat coats his body. Bzzzzzzzz. The lights grow louder and brighter with each speeding heartbeat. Lub-dub, lub-dub.

“Sweetie, you will be okay! Calm down! There is no need to panic.”

Bzzzzzzz! Lub-dub, lub-dub!

“Chris?”

BUZZZZZZZ! LUB-DUB!

“AHHHHHH!”
The battered sign saying Cleary’s Dental Services bangs against the door, as it slams shut. His screams ring in the hallway as he races out of the dentist’s office.

“Mrs. Lenning, where’s Chris? We are ready for him.”
“He ran out the door screaming like a banshee.”
“Oh dear, again?”