Fix Him Up

⑥| Check Up

"Rise and shine sweetheart." My eyes slowly opened to see my mom leaning over me. "Time for school." I let out a groan of disgust.

"Do I have to go?" I whined. She shook her head and left my room. I sat up, threw the sheets off of me, and scratched my stomach. A bit of pain came when I accidentally scratched my wound. I lifted up my shirt to see the stitching have a greenish yellow tint around the edges.

"Great... It's probably infected." I quickly got dressed and ran down the hall as fast as I could. "Mom! I need to see Dr. Smiley! Right now!" My mom's head peaked around the corner from the kitchen.

"Why's that honey?" I couldn't think of a good enough excuse. What could I possibly say? Not like I could say I was stabbed by Dr. Smiley and it's somehow infected now. Now that I think of it, infections only occur almost a day after the injury. But it's only been three hours at the least.

"It's classified information that I can only talk to him about." She gave me a puzzled look. She obviously didn't look convinced.

"Okay?" I couldn't see a regular doctor. They'd probably try to pry into everything to get every small detail. I couldn't risk that.

Mom didn't have to work so she decided to just let me have the car. Without eating breakfast I grabbed my bag, the keys, and ran out the door. I couldn't wait another second to figure out what was wrong with my side. What could he have possibly done to do this? And in so little time too.

Smiley's clinic appeared in view and I parked the car. A mixture of emotions like anger, confusion, and fear swelled up inside me. Hesitantly I knock on his door. Would he even be home? Probably out "helping people". I really wouldn't be surprised at that thought. I began to turn on my heels but stopped when the click of a lock sound from the other side of the door.

"Sorry but I don- oh hey Squirt." Squirt? I'm short but not that short. My anger was short lived when my eyes gazed upon his appearance. His dark hair was a complete mess and he was only wearing sweatpants.

I must have been dazed and staring at him for a while because he piped up saying,"Like what you see?"

"N-no!" He let out a deep chuckle. "Tell me what you did to cause this, you moron!" I said while lifting up my shirt. He gaze became serious. He then turned around motioning with his hand for me to come in.

"Sit up here." He patted the operating table and disappeared behind mystery door number two. I looked at the door and then the table. Did I really wanna do this? But then again, who would believe I only got this infection hours ago. I could easily be digging my own grave. Mystery door number two opened and Smiley came back with lots of equipment I'd never seen before.

But my mind shifted back to him still only wearing sweatpants. It's so wrong to look at him that way but I couldn't help it.

"Come here." I got pulled out of my thoughts to see Smiley stand closer than before. "Having trouble getting up there?" I let out a puff of air and hoisted myself up.

"See? I can do it." He gave me an evil grin and proceeded to grab at the hem of my shirt. My face became a bright red. "What are you doing?"

"Don't get your dick twisted. I'm just checking the wound."

"Right." He pulled my shirt off the rest of the way and examined the infection. He knew what was wrong. After a short while he finally spoke to me.

"You'll obviously need to take medication." I gave him a puzzled look.

"You're not going to tell me how it happened or what kind of medication that is?" He shrugged and walked out the room but then came back with a small brown bag. "This won't kill me right?"

"I promise," he replied chuckling. "Now get to school." Without a second to lose, I booked it out of his clinic. No way I was staying any longer. I got a bad vibe from that room. I still didn't see how he helped people. I bet he only stabbed me so it would get infected and I would have to come back. Sneaky son of a gun. I know one day I'll come back to his clinic and it'll be the last time I breath. I just know it.