"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Dipper's voice boomed through the house. "That's insane! You're insane!" He pointed right at me, making me flinch. "I can't believe you'd think I'd help you with this stupid plan."
"Come on." I pleaded. I needed him to do this. "It's not that deep in there. Just under the skin. It's not like you'd be giving me brain surgery."
"No. You do know I'm only 12, right? What makes you think I could even do it?"
"I don't know. Who else could I have asked?" He had to do it. No one else could. No one else would. Maybe he wouldn't either.
"I don't know. A doctor?" He asked sarcastically.
"They would've just sent me home, or worse. If I don't get this thing out, they'll be able to find me anywhere. I would be back here in less than a few days. Maybe even a few hours." My parents, with all their love, had gotten a tracker implanted in my arm when I was a toddler. Just another way they treated me more like I was their dog than their daughter. Now, I needed to get it out. Or rather, I needed to get Dipper to get it out for me.
"Why don't you just do it yourself?" That struck a nerve.
"I've tried!" I screamed at him, fed up with his refusal and patronizing. "I tried over and over to cut my arm open enough to pull it out, but I can't. Not with just one hand. I need two. That's why I need you." I had tried. Many times. This was not my first attempt to run. I've tried many times, but I never got far. After a few attempts, I learned about the tracker. Since then, I had spent many nights trying to carefully cut it out, usually using a steak knife. Every time, I ended up with a bloody arm and no tracker. The pain would always become too much for me to handle. My hand would twitch, and I'd end up making horrible cuts. Eventually, I'd just stop trying, at least until my next escape attempt. After several cracks at it, I ended up with a web of scars and still no tracker.
After I had met Dipper, I thought maybe I could use him. Maybe this time, I'd actually be able to get farther than the Oregon border. But unless I could convince him, I doubt I'll make it out of Gravity Falls. "Well, you can forget it. I'm not cutting open your arm just so you can run away from your mommy and daddy." I growled slightly at the way he referred to my parents. Our conversation had kept Mabel awake though she was reluctant to join in. She was trying to fall back to sleep, to no avail. The only other person in the house was their great uncle. And apparently, we'd woken him up.
"What's going on here?" He said, entering the bedroom. "Why is she here?"
Dipper stopped gazing daggers at me and turned to his uncle. "She's staying here for the night." His eyes returned to me. "And leaving in the morning."
I stood my ground. Getting that tracker out was my only hope of leaving my old life. "I'm not going anywhere until there are stitches in my arm and a tracker in my hand."
"What is she talking about?"
"She wants me to perform actual surgery on her," Dipper explained, trying to convince me of the plan's insanity.
"I need him to-" I paused, a revised plan appearing in my head. "He can do it," I muttered to myself. "HE can do it," I repeated aloud, pointing at the middle-aged man.
"Me?" Their uncle became even more confused.
"You. You need to remove the tracker in my arm."
"Hold on." Dipper entered back into the discussion. "He's not gonna do it either. Nobody is going to perform surgery on you."
"Exactly. Why the heck would I help you? You can forget it. Go back to your stupid family."
I pushed his comments aside. "Please. I'm running away, but if I don't get that tracker out, there'll be no place for me to run. Please." I was practically begging at this point.
"No." He was on his way out the door. I had to think. He was my last chance. Think. Come on, think!
I got it. "I'll pay you." He stopped dead in his tracks.
This made Dipper worried. "You can't honestly be considering-"
"How much?" The old man asked, still poised to walk out.
This really made Dipper worried "Oh my God."
"I don't know. Five bucks?" I knew the man was cheap. Hopefully, that would be enough.
He thought it over for a few seconds. He then turned to face me. "Ten." I was amazed. I was expecting a counter-offer but I didn't expect it to be that small. I wasn't the only one.
"TEN DOLLARS?! That's it! You're gonna perform surgery on her FOR TEN BUCKS!?"
The con-man held out his hand. I hesitated, for a minute before quickly shaking his hand. "Deal." I grabbed one of the many bills I had stuck in my bag, along with a squirt of hand sanitizer, and handed it to him.
"How have you actually agreed to do this?!" Dipper was still angry, both at my proposal and at his great-uncle's acceptance.
"Why not?" Came the old man's simple reply.
"BECAUSE IT'S INSANE!" Dipper really didn't want me to do this.
"It's not that insane." I insisted, following the old man to the living room. I had won. I was actually going to get it out. I was actually going to get away from them.
Dipper followed us, still attempting to talk us out of it. Mabel had decided to stay in her room, not really caring enough to join us. Once we reached the living room, their uncle had me cover the table with plastic wrap. I laid down on the sterile table. Dipper insisted on staying.
"I'm just making sure he doesn't kill you."
My makeshift surgeon returned with what looked like an Exacto-knife. I assumed that would be the scalpel. I was pleasantly surprised, having expected a kitchen knife. He also brought a towel. "Here. Put this in your mouth."
"Ew. Why?"
"So you can bite down on it. We don't exactly have anesthesia."
That scared me. It made me realize that this was actually going to happen. He was actually gonna cut open my freaking arm. I had to stay strong. Any pain I would feel here would be nothing compared to the pain my parents would cause me. I grabbed the towel.
"Come 'ere kid." He beckoned Dipper over. "You're going to help me with this."
The kid stayed put. "Oh no, I'm not. I'm not taking part in this."
"You said you were here to make sure I don't kill her, right? Well, I need you to help me so I don't." Dipper reluctantly walked over and took his place next to his current guardian. "This is gonna hurt like crap. Try not to go into shock. And kid, try not to faint."
"I'm not gonna faint," Dipper replied back, hurt at the blow to his manliness.
"And try not to move. I don't want to make any more cuts than I have to. Speaking of which, where do I even cut?"
"You'll see the other scars. It's around there. How do you even know how to do this?" I wondered. Perhaps I should've asked that sooner.
"I just do, okay?" He replied quickly while rubbing disinfectant on my arm and on the blade. He seemed reluctant to explain himself. But I could care less where he learned how to get it out, as long as he got it out. I put the towel in my mouth. But I had other things occupying my mind. "Okay. Last chance to get out. You sure you wanna do this?" I nodded, unable to speak, partly from the towel in my mouth, and partly from fear. "Dipper, hold her arm down. I don't want it moving." The boy did as he was told. I could barely hear Stan mutter "I can't believe I'm doing this." I couldn't believe it either.
"Okay. Here we go." He rolled up my sleeve to reveal the web of scars on my arm, each a failed attempt to remove it alone.
Dipper seemed surprised to see so many. "Wow. You really want this thing out." My right arm instinctively tried to move when the cold blade hit it. But I couldn't move my arm at all with Dipper holding it down. He's stronger than he looks. Then the blade started cutting. It wasn't that bad at first, but as it got deeper, the pain grew. I was never able to go very deep on my own. I bit down as hard as I could, nearly biting off my tongue. I could fell the warm blood dripping down, trying not to think about what the actual cut looked like. I wasn't to the point of screaming, yet.
"You said just under the skin, right?" I nodded quickly, trying to fight the pain. My body was on the verge of going nuts, or shutting down. But I wouldn't let it do either. "Well, I think I found it. I'm gonna need to open the wound a bit more, so I can get it out." I could feel more cuts being made. Black, mascara-stained tears were streaming down my face, cleaning off what was left of the previous day's makeup. My jaw was starting to become sore. "Okay, I definitely see it. I'm going to grab it. Hopefully, it's not tied down." I felt 2 fingers enter the large cut, Muffled screams emerged from my mouth. My vision began fading as my body begged me to allow it to pass out. But I needed to feel this pain. I needed this to push me to finish what I'd started. Unfortunately, it seemed Dipper's will was not as strong. The grip on my arm loosened up, and I used all of whatever strength I had left to keep it still. I glanced over at him and saw him mouth "So much blood" while staring at the open wound. His hands lifted from my arm, and he backed away from the table. "Kid, what're you doing? Get back here."
"I can't do this. It's too much. I ca-" He stopped short and fell to the ground, presumably out cold. With nothing on my arm, it started twitching, trying to rid the cause of my pain.
"I told him not to faint. Almost got it. I can feel it. It's not sewed in. Come on…" I could feel him inside my arm, desperately trying to grip the small chip. "Got it!" His grip tightened on the chip. I felt the fingers exit the wound. "You're losing a lot of blood." I could feel the liquid pooling up around my arm. I was freaking out in my mind, and I feared to go into shock. I could feel my other arm begin to shake, just as it did when I attempted to do this alone. "Cover the cut with your other hand." My other hand moved quickly and gripped my arm, the vibrating palm partially blocking the blood from exiting my body. I heard the man mutter under his breath "This was easier in prison" as if I wasn't scared enough. The pain had lessened a bit, but it was still on the verge of being unbearable. The old man grabbed a sewing kit. He lifted my hand and applied paper towels to clean up the wound slightly, just enough for him to start stitching. The needle stung as it entered and exited my skin, the cold metal chilling whatever flesh it touched. The blood flow all but ceased as he closed the cuts he'd made. "Okay. Finished. That went… better than expected." His comment made me wonder how bad he expected it to go. My right arm was lying in a pool of blood. My left hand was pure red. Some of it had reached my hair, turning it from blonde to scarlet. The pain continued, despite the wound being shut. But it was over. I had done it. I survived. It was out. "Here." The chip landed in my hand. It was so small. My grip tightened around it. With no reason to stay awake, I allowed my body to shut down. I closed my eyes and blacked out, a slight smile shining on my face.