Chapter 7
"Kiera. Kiera, wake up," someone was shaking me, "Hey, you're doctor's appointment is in an hour. You should get up and get ready."
I realized it was Shawn trying to get me up. Doctor's appointment? What in the world is he talking about? Then I tried to sit up in my bed, and my left arm suddenly seemed to be on fire.
"Ah!" I gasped. Then I remembered what Shawn was talking about. The fox had cut my arm. No, I cut my arm on the table, I thought. I needed to remember that story; no one would believe the story about my daydream.
"You all right?" Shawn asked, worried.
"I'm fine. Just forgot about my arm," I reassured him.
"Ok, well, as I said, doctor's appointment in an hour. You can get up and get ready, right?"
"Yeah, of course," I used my right arm to support myself, and sat up on my bed. That seemed to assure Shawn, so he left. After that, I got off my bed and went to my dresser. I picked out a pair of faded blue jeans, a green shirt, and then a black jacket to go over it.
I got ready just as if it were any other school day. Before we went to get in Shawn's truck, Shawn put a fresh bandage on my arm. Then we got in the truck, and started to drive. The hospital was about twenty minutes away. On the way, Shawn and I made some jokes about singers on the radio, so the drive didn't seem to take that long.
When we got there, we parked in the parking lot, and went in. We sat in the waiting room for a while, until the woman at the front counter called my name. A doctor came in the room and told us to follow him. We went down the hall one of those little examination rooms. I was told to sit on the bench, while Shawn sat in a chair, and the doctor stayed standing.
"Ok, you're Kiera?" he asked me.
"Yeah," I said.
"Hi, I'm Doctor Gerald," he stuck out his hand for me to shake it, I did so, "And what've we got here? Got a cut? Ok, lets take a look at that, then,"
I took my jacket off, and Doctor Gerald removed the bandage. While he did so, I had to grit my teeth; it still really hurt.
"Yeah… that's defiantly gonna need some stitches," the doctor said when he'd examined it, "And, tell me, how exactly did you say you got that?"
"I was grabbing something that fell off my desk, and as I got up, my arm scratched the desk," I lied.
"Hmm… because, to me, it looks like a dog's claw got you," Doctor Gerald looked at me skeptically. My heart skipped a beat. New story! I tried to think quickly.
"What?" Shawn stood up.
"Yeah, some kind of dog. Care to tell the truth, Kiera?" the doctor asked me.
Shawn and Doctor Gerald were both looking at me. Think, think! I yelled silently.
"Um… yeah… I was – um, I mean, on the way to school," Keep going! It's a good start! I thought, "the neighbor's dogs, er, I mean, dog attacked me." I knew they wouldn't believe me. Doctor Gerald spoke first.
"I'm sorry, wrong answer. Your cut looks fresher than that. It looks like it happened, not before, but after school," he said.
"Well, ok, it was after school. Lily, a kid at my school, brought her dog to school. Um… it was a big Saint Bernard. I went over to pet it, and it, uh, jumped on me. It had me pinned to the ground, and its paw was on my arm, so it scratched me," I said.
"Well, no matter how you got it, you still need stitches. I'm not the kind of doctor to do that; he'll be here in a minute. Excuse me," then the doctor left.
"Kiera, why didn't you tell me the truth? I wouldn't have gotten mad," Shawn asked.
"I just didn't want you to worry about me. You always are over-concerned with that kinda stuff," I told him. He looked sort of offended.
Then Doctor Gerald returned, accompanied by another doctor. He introduced himself as Doctor Seders. I just thought of him as the stitches doctor.
When he put the stitches through my arm, I swear I'd never felt anything like it! It hurt more than anything else, even more so than the cut Avian gave me. The stitches doctor said it would only taken about fifteen or twenty minutes, but it felt like forever. Finally, he was done, and I was free to go.
Shawn and I left the hospital and got in his truck.
"So, what do you want for lunch?" Shawn asked as we started driving.
"I don't know, whatever, I guess," I said.
"Ok," Shawn said.
So we drove home without saying anything else. At the apartment, we made some ham and cheese sandwiches with some Top Raman. After that I went to my room.
Why had I said that to Shawn back at the hospital? He just worries about me because I'm the only family he's got!
I paced my room, as I usually do when I'm angry or stressing. As I was yelling silently at myself, I passed my homework table. Yesterday, when I'd daydreamt, I'd been sitting there. I had been doodling, too, when I'd started to daydream. There, on my desk, was another sketch.
I walked over to it. Again, it was way to good for me to have drawn while I was fully conscious. The sketch was of Avian. It was through my eyes; he was sitting in front of me, and seemed to be explaining something. In the back round, there were the trees of the forest, and the dens in the clearing. Picking it up, I looked at it closer. Above the trees, in the sky, I could see that city.
Again, I took the drawing and pinned it to my bulletin board. I wonder how many of these things I'm gonna make.
Then I heard something ringing. What's that? I thought. I looked around for the noise. It sounded like it was coming from my backpack. My backpack was ringing? I was ready to believe anything, ever since that last daydream.
I walked over to it. The sound seemed to be coming from the right pocket. Duh! My phone!
Quickly, I unzipped the pouch, and grabbed my phone. Too late, I'd just missed the call. I flipped it open to see who it'd been. Tylor! Why'd he called me? He never calls me!
Tylor was another one of my best friends. He was pretty tall, about five-four, and had red hair. I'd known Tylor since first grade, not counting second grade, when he moved away, but came back in third.
I dialed his number to call him back.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
"Hello?" Tylor answered.
"Hey! You called me?" I said.
"Yeah, I did! I partly called just to see what was up, and then I also heard something really weird."
"Well, if you wanna know what's up then brace yourself," I told him.
"Why? What happened?" Tylor asked.
"I just got back from the hospital! I had to get stitches!"
"What? No way, are you serious?" Tylor asked, shocked.
"Yep! I–" Then I stopped. Tylor was used to dealing with all my problems. I always called him when I was stressed out, but would he believe this?
"What? You what?" Tylor asked curiously.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth," I said.
"No, come on! Tell me!"
"Don't laugh!"
"I won't! Swear it!"
"Ok… well… you know how I daydream? Like, a lot?" I began.
"Yeah… but what's that got to do with it?"
"Everything! See, I was daydreaming during Art, and I dreamt about this white fox…" I told him the whole story, from start to finish, in as much detail as I could. I wished I was talking with him face to face so I could've seen his expression. When I'd finished, there was silence.