Y’know how when you get like, your wisdom teeth removed and the doctor gives you an anesthesia and you get all like “whatever” for awhile after you’re done (even when the doctor is going all “whoa!” because your gums healed right up)? Yeah well, at least your wisdom teeth doctor wasn’t a totally insane brain rapist. My experience was soooo much worse. I like, wish I were dead. I feel so dirty. His fingers exploring, poking and prodding… Did he even wash his hands?!
When he first entered, I went into shock, like I was under those wonky dentist drugs.
“Your brain is so totally cute, Claire! Not nearly as cute as my super cute brain, but seriously. It’s cute,”
“Whatever…” I said, my left eyelid drooping. I didn’t care.
“Anyway. Have you heard from Peter lately? He hasn’t texted me back in like forever! Has he said anything about me? OMG! He totally has, hasn’t he?! LOL!”
“Whatever,” I said again. I don’t think Sylar heard me though, because he was suddenly engrossed in something he found inside my skull.
“OMG! Claire! You totally have to see this! This little wrinkle here is shaped like a pony. Oh! And this one is shaped like your Uncle Peter’s Pen-“
“Are you gonna eat it?”
“Of course I’m gonna eat it, silly! I’ve wanted him ever since I’ve-“
“I was talking about my brain,”
“Oh,”
…
“Are you?”
“Claire,” He said, pressing his hand against his chest, pretending to be shocked. Then he lowered his head so his lips were nearly brushing my ear. “That’s disgusting…” And then he licked a dribble of blood as it trickled down my temple.
“Lol!!!111!!!!eleven! I’m jk, jk. You’re totally tasty, but you’re super sweet brain is like, loaded with sugar and stuff and that turns into carbs and like fat and stuff, and I just like ate so… I gotta watch my figure for your Uncle Petey and Daddys! You understand,”
“Whatever,”
And then he left, with my ability to heal and who knows which cheerleading stunts, and leaving me feeling used and icky all over. I curled into a little ball with Mr. Muggles and waited for 5 hours until Mom and Lysander got home. Mr. Muggles probably chewed off a piece of my ear, but I wouldn’t know would I? *sob*
Mom asked if I was raped and I said like “Whatever… No. You don’t get it,” I then left with my camera to go to Uncle Super Cute Peter’s house. He’s got tons of black clothes and razors and stuff. Maybe I’ll borrow some. Or maybe I’ll eat a porcupine or stand in front of a train. I dunno. Like, totally whatever.
My Dear Girl,
As your grandmother, I share in your ennui. “Whatever”, indeed. They do have pills for that. Since you’re in California, you can probably pick them up at your local White Hen. I suggest you find some post haste.
With Love,
Grammy
LOL..I’m sure Sylar stole your cheerleading stunts.
and there will be no eating of my Petey’s. . . . petey…
I don’t care if he did shoot me.
Bio-Grammy- Whatever.
Biodad- Yeah! Unless it’s by me! I mean… whatever…
You remind me of myself when I was a youthful 75…ah, the days of innocence…