A/N: I'm not sure if they do this all the same at every dental clinic all over the world, but in Singapore, this is usually how it's done.

"Mallory Pike? Into rm4 to see dr. Rivera." Called a nurse in Dr. Rivera's office.

As mum and I walked into the room, I felt queasy and grabbed mum's hand. She squeezed my hand and smiled at me. She knew I was scared. She had told me many times of her own experience when she was my age, and how "painless" it had been. I didn't feel comforted. I just knew it was going to hurt - really bad.

" Sit," said Dr. Rivera, as he fiddled with his equipment. "Okay, open your mouth," he instructed after I had sat and he had finished with his equipment. I obeyed. He began cleaning and polishing away, as if he was the ordinary dentist, which most people see every 6 months.

To me, he was no ordinary dentist. One of his missions for that day was to make me a metal mouth.

He interrupted my thoughts by saying, " You must be wondering why I'm cleaning your teeth," he began, "Well, that's because if I don't do this, you will have lots of tooth decay caused by the brackets over your teeth which prevents your toothbrush from brushing that area, and I'm sure none of us want that, do we?" he asked with a chuckle, "Now, rinse your mouth of all that mint stuff,"

He instructed me to open my mouth as wide as I possibly could. I did, and he stuck a pair of ice-tong like features to "stretch my lips". He began selecting some strange rings, the diameter and the likeness of typical wedding rings, and attempting to fit them over various back teeth. He failed with some and had to re-select them.

"You sure have many different sizes of teeth!" he exclaimed with a laugh as he slipped the last one on. He made me bite on this gadget so that it would go all the way in.

When he pulled them all off I thought he had mis-fitted every single one of them! I asked in amazement as he took out the ice tongs,

" Are you that bad at fitting those things on? You did each tooth like, five times!" Of course, I was exaggerating.

After I had rinsed my mouth and allowed him to re-insert the ice tongs, he began gluing some strange cube-like things into my mouth using a certain kind of superglue after making absolutely sure that my mouth was totally dry.

"How'd you expect something wet to stick onto something wet? It's like trying to stick two pieces of soggy paper together, and when they're dry, they fall apart, don't they?" He asked, logically, explaining the need to have an absolutely dry mouth.

He then left me there for about 15 minutes with a selection of colours to choose for my braces. I chose clear, of course. That colour is purr-fectly invisible against my teeth!

"Clear, Mal?" he asked when I pointed to clear on the palette, "I think pink would look quite nice on you, or blue, or green, or . . ."

"Clear's fine, thank you," I said politely

"Ok, then." He sighed, "Kid's nowadays are so conscious. Seems like everyone wants clear!"

He fitted on a wire and began twisting and turning the wire. Well, it seemed like he was twisting, but in fact, he was just putting on the finishing touches - - the brackets.

About two minutes later, which to me felt like eternity, he leaned back in his chair and smiled,

"All done!" he gave me a mirror. I looked into it and smiled. Well, I have to admit, it made me look older, and it didn't look like the beastly, horrid things I'd thought they would be like. But boy, it did hurt!

"Okay, Mallory, this is the kind of toothbrush you'll have to use for the next two years. It's specially designed with a groove so that you can clean your teeth properly." He said, showing me a toothbrush, and demonstrating on a model how to brush your teeth when you have braces on (I thought we learnt that when we were 4?).

"And this," he continued, handing me a small box, "is to put on the rings if they give you ulcers. They'll smoothen them and make sure your mouth's ulcer-free!" He gabbled on and on about what food to eat, and what not, what to eat when you've just got braces, and all that kind of stuff. (You'll know what I mean if you have braces)

"Okay then, you can go," said Dr. Rivera, holding the door open for mum and I to go out.

While mum settled the bills, I began to wonder. What if no one in my entire grade has got braces? Would they laugh? Or what if everyone thought I looked strange, and stop being my friend? What if . . . What if . . .

~End of chap 4~

Hey people, thanks for all the reviews. Hope you enjoyed my story! Also, I'd like to ask if I should use my big bro's experience for when Mal's braces go off, or if I should use my own, which would mean updating 2 yrs from now. I think most would say option 1, but if anyone thinks this story is trash and that I shouldn't even continue, let me know, and I will take this story off. But, it's majority wins. Please tell me if: Option 1: You think my story's trash and ought to be deleted from this site, Option 2: You think you'd like to wait till my braces are off, because you know what a exaggerating brother my brother can be at some times, Option 3: I should use my brother's experience, because 2yrs is too long a wait!

Please inform me via reviews by 07/07/03. The next chapter will be up soon, and the chapter after that should come around the 6th of July, because my first time for braces tightening is on the 5th. I sure hope no one says option 1! But if you honestly think opt.1, don't feel bad. Please be open and just type option 1. I want to know if you like my writing!

Thank you and God bless! Oh, and please pray for all those nurses and doctors who are helping to fight Sars (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome) all over the world, and also for all the countries and people affected by Sars. If you live in HK, Guangdong, Shanxi, Beijing, Toronto etc.etc., everyone's praying for you (I hope, well, I am, anyway!)!

P.S: This is a revised version, so some who read my story earlier might find some changes here and there.