Brace Face - creative writing.

University Degree Linguistics, Classics and related subjects

Brace Face

As a child, I longed for a cure to correct my remarkably crooked teeth. In order to portray the image of braces, I would transform every piece of bubble gum into a stringy thread and place it along my front teeth. I yearned for the opportunity to coordinate my outfit with the colors of my brackets. I craved straight teeth. Finally, on one long awaited day during fifth grade, my wish was granted.

My appointment was scheduled in the early morn, and I approached the Orthodontics building hand in hand with my mother. The building was in actuality, a house, complete with a white picket fence. I was definitely surprised. However, the shock faded away once I opened the door and breathed in a whiff of air that smelled like a mixture of mouth wash and fruit punch fluoride. I twitched at drilling noises worse than a racecar performing donuts at 100 miles per hour. I followed my mother like a puppy to the receptionist. Her nametag read Ruth, and as she consulted with my mother she looked my way and flashed me a giant smile. A wave of astonishment came over me, when I saw the elaborate braces on her pearly whites, which made her middle-aged appearance seem middle school. As my mom chitchatted with Ruth the Receptionist, I was directed to reclined, leather, dental chair covered with protective plastic.

I attempted to lie on the seat without allowing the plastic beneath me to crinkle, but I failed. As I finally got situated, I was forced to look at the ceiling. It was low, white and featureless and I wondered why someone had not stuck a few posters up there. Unable to look elsewhere, I patiently sat.

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Eventually a young woman’s face appeared. She looked a bit young to be my Orthodontist. She then introduced herself as the assistant, and began to apply super glue along my front teeth and my molars, forcing me to grin like Jim Carrey as the “Grinch”. She then announced that her work was done, and she was leaving to retrieve my Orthodontist.

“I’m Dr. Parker, your Orthodontist,” explained the aging man peering over me.

I guessed that he was in his mid-fifties because he was old enough to be my grandpa. His head was shiny and showed off the fact that he was going bald. The remainder of his hair was as white as snow. He was thin, and reminded me of Mr. Burns from the ‘Simpson’s’, except I could sense that his morals were not quite as corrupted as the cartoon characters. He then began to examine his tools, which were shiny and very intimidating although small in size. He selected his first weapon, which looked like a cross between an eyelash curler and a pair of tweezers that had gone evil. As the silver utensil entered my mouth, I opened wide and shut my eyes. I had trouble picturing what exactly went on, but I could feel each tooth slowly twisting. I cringed with every move of his hands. I could have sworn that my teeth were already starting to move in obedience. I tried to hide the fact that all I felt was uncomfortable aches and pains. I could sense my tooth about to crack, with all the wires and metal clicking and clanking against it. Then, he abruptly stopped, and addressed me.

“What colors would you like on your brackets?”

Without hesitation I tried to respond, but the equipment in my mouth made it impossible. I gestured towards the dark blue and the sky blue miniature rubber bands.

“All done,” he announced, only a moment later. Before I knew it, he was with the next eager patient. His assistant returned, and she handed me a starter kit with instructions and supplies.

“No eating any chewy or hard foods; use this special threader to get floss under your braces and through your teeth; rinse with this solution if your mouth gets tender. Wires may poke you, so if you’re badly poked stick a glob of this dental wax on the end of the wire. Any questions?” preached the assistant, as if reading off a cue card.

Overwhelmed, I shook my head no, ignoring the handful of questions that were trying to escape my head. The most prominent question in my head was: “When do I get these railroad tracks off?!” My mouth felt so extremely sore I had forgotten why I had once wanted braces. I had anticipated this day for so long, and now I couldn’t wait till the day I could get rid of them.

This experience is one of my most vivid memories, in which my indecisiveness is clearly shown. However, throughout all of the physically painful and annoying situations I encountered with my four years as a brace face, I am now able to proudly express myself through a smile.