This is a little story that I wrote for my Creative Writing Class.

 
Irrational Fear

As soon as I saw the door across the street, my heart started pounding.
I knew what waited for me on the other side. It was silly that a grownup such as myself went to pieces like this. Every time was worse than the last.

As I neared that big black door my hands got all clammy. My arm pits felt wet but I was too ashamed to check. It wasn’t something you did in the middle of the High Street now is it?

With each small step I took, it became harder to move as if the air had suddenly become made of treacle. Then I remembered the last time. One look at what he held in his hand and I fainted. When I recovered, I felt the shame. I was a wimp of the first order of magnitude.

I stood rooted to the spot outside that door for what seemed an age but probably wasn’t.
My hands trembled as I gripped the polished brass door knob.
Then the door opened and two happy faced people emerged. I had to go in. There was no other choice.

The smiling face of the receptionist didn’t help me one little bit.
“Ah, Mr James, please go straight in. Tom is ready for you.”

The next thing I remember is waking up in the back of an Ambulance. “You seem to be fine,” said the medic with a smile on his face. Tom stuck his head around the door to the ambulance. This merchant of death was smiling. That had to mean bad news.
“Everything is ok Mr James. I gave you a quick once over while you were out cold.”

I sank back shaking like a leaf.
Why was going to the dentist such a horror show?
It didn’t used to be like this.