The Electric Drill: An Original Halloween Horror Story

Halloween may be over, but I’d like to share a short story about my horrific ordeal this year. No, I wasn’t chased down an alley by Ghostface, or possessed by evil spirits. Something much worse happened to me this Halloween… I had a dentist’s appointment!

The Electric Drill

Evil DentistI shut my eyes tightly, feeling a hot tear trickle down my face and onto his operating chair. The burning spotlight on my face was almost a distraction from his metallic tools, digging away into my open mouth. My toes curled and my body recoiled in agony, but I attempted to hide these inadvertent reactions. I can’t let him see the power he has over me. I will not let this monster feed of my pain and suffering. As my mouth filled up with the coppery taste of blood, he removed his caveman-like hands from my mouth. I thought it was over, that he’d finally gotten his fill from my torture and that I would be set free. Little did I know, things were about to get worse.

The momentary silence was abruptly cut short by a new sound. A sound that sent shivers down my spine and chilled me to the core. An electric drill. ‘This is it.’ I thought. ‘This is when my heart gives out. I don’t think I can take any more of this.’ As the drill sound draws nearer, I scrunch my eyes even tighter than before, and I feel my back spasm in anticipation. When the cold drill finally makes contact with my teeth the sound fills my entire head. It sends my ears ringing into surround sound and I can’t even hear my thoughts anymore. I feel my tears mix with the newly formed cold sweat seeping from my face.

The experience is so completely consuming, I have to concentrate on my senses to be able to feel them. Though my eyes are shut, I am desperate to open them, to look into my attackers eyes and beg him to stop. My tongue is overpowered by the taste of blood, a metallic taste that is so distinct, there is no denying its presence. The smell from the room is so surgical and medical, it makes me feel cold and inhuman. My eardrums are trembling with every movement he makes within my mouth, which is now dry and cracking from being open for so long.

Just as I am starting to give up hope, and giving into the sickening feeling that this torture will never end, the drill stops. I don’t feel anything in my mouth anymore, just the sharp reminder of bruised and swelling gums, in an almost unrecognizably fragile state. I cautiously run my tongue along my teeth, counting them. By some miracle they all appear to be intact. I hesitate opening my eyes, allowing them to adjust to the brightness and refocus after being in complete darkness for so long. As the shapes around the room start to become clear, I see him, standing over me, with a mask covering his mouth, but his eyes penetrating mine.

Finally, I feel a surge of relief. It’s over. I’ve survived his twisted and crude torment. He’s going to let me go. But before I’m able to move or say anything, he pulls the surgical mask down and says, ‘We’re done now. See you again in three months’.

The End

Scared MickeyOk, so a routine cleaning at the dentist may not seem like such a scary thing for most, but I’ve always had a horrible fear of dentists. I never feel so vulnerable or exposed as I do when I go to see my dentist (who is lovely by the way and nothing like the monster in this story!). I made the mistake of booking an appointment on October 31st without realising what day it was, and then spent the whole time worrying that I would somehow end up a bloody, toothless ghost or zombie.

Luckily that wasn’t the case, and I was able to eat lots of junk food, drink and enjoy Halloween! I hope everyone else had a good Halloween too!

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Dear 16 Year Old Me: A letter about friendships

sixteen

As I lay in bed this morning, ignoring my alarm and browsing Facebook to avoid the inevitable, I found myself feeling a little melancholic (not only because I had to get up for work!). I was looking through my news feed and saw a lot of people who I used to go to school with. Some who were my close friends, some who were acquaintances, and some who I barely spoke to in the 6-7 years that I studied at the same school.

I had my group of close friends and I’m sure we all thought the world revolved around us. But now, more than 7 years after finishing secondary/high school, I hardly have any contact with my school friends. Nothing bad happened, we just drifted apart. We moved on from school, got jobs, went to uni, moved away, and eventually made new friendships. It’s sad but it’s a part of life.

What I feel a little melancholic about is the fact that there were a lot of people I never made an effort to get to know. Somehow I’ve ended up Facebook friends with some of them, and I will see them post something funny, or comment on a subject that I like, or even share a life event that I can relate to, and I think to myself ‘Why were we never close?’.

If I could go back in time and do it all again, I think that’s one of the things I would try to do. Be a little more outgoing and talk to different people. I can be a little bit shy in the beginning, but I think I’m quite outgoing nowadays! It’s been much easier since leaving school. I think because I was still trying to come to terms with my sexuality (everyone around me knew I was gay before I did!), I just wanted to blend in and be a part of the background. I didn’t want people questioning me about my sexuality when I didn’t even know the answer, so I just stuck with the people who I felt most comfortable with.

I don’t want to sit here and think about all the shoulda, woulda, coulda’s of my teenage life, otherwise I’m sure this would just be the tip of the iceberg, so I thought it would be better to write my 16 year old self a little letter instead:

letter

I wish I could explain to sixteen year old Matt just how important it is to be kind and true to who you are, but in all honesty I think that’s a lifelong lesson that has to be learnt the hard way…