As they were on their way, Will thought through his plan. So first he'd take out the paperclip, bend it into the shape of a grappling hook, then tie his piece of string to it. As soon as the doctor locked the door, he would throw his grappling hook up at the window, then tell his mother to hang on to him as he pulls them out to safety. And he would leave a nasty surprise-
"Ouch!", cried out Will, as his scissors dug into him.
"Are you ok, sweetie?", asked his mother, sounding concerned.
"Yes, mummy, something in the car only poked me.", he replied nonchalantly. 'Which technically isn't a lie.', he thought. The rest of the trip was uneventful.
As they got out of the car and entered the building marked 'Neopian Hospital', he noticed that the air had gotten cooler and smelt of what his mother used to clean the toilet. He shuddered, only partly because of the cold and strange smell. Now he was sure that this 'doctor' had made him sick, because this place made his nose even more runny and he wanted to sneeze.
His mother talked to a very scary looking Usul who had jet black hair tied into a very tight ponytail, blood red lips, bruised blue eyelids and a very pale, white face. Her face looked fake, like it was painted on. She reminded Will of a battered vampire doll.
He said this to his mother after they were directed to some white seats with a pile of magazines on a white table in front of them. There was a lot of white here.
His mother looked up briefly from her magazine.
"Dear, it's called make-up, and it's considered fashionable. That Usual back there was a charming young lady. Quite good-looking, really.", she said, looking bemused.
Will didn't find the Usul 'charming' at all. In fact, he found her absolutely terrifying. Anyway, how could someone 'make-up' their face? And even if they could, why would they turn it into something so much like a horror movie?
Somebody called his name. He looked around, confused at this new voice who somehow knew his name.
His mother put down her magazine, then took him towards a white door with a straight row of squiggles, what his mother called letters, on it, near the top. Though how they resembled what he collected every day from his mailbox, he never could figure out.
As they entered the room, a huge wave of that horrible smell overcame Will. It made his nose itch to sneeze. And then, there he was.
The doctor.
Will fingered his apple.