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Friday, August 27, 2010

From The Archives: Close Call (A Short Story)

Written By: Chichi Aneke—I’m part of the demographic! Why didn’t I think of that until after the fact? It wasn’t until last week that it hit me, and I realized what I may have gotten myself into. Dear God, what will my family think? Okay I have to focus; I can’t just make such an unprofessional diagnosis on the fly. Besides don't they say that we should watch what we say because confession brings possession? How do I begin? I can't go to the family doctor; it will get out, especially when the bill comes. I have to do some research but as discreetly as possible. I made an appointment at a clinic on the other side of town. It’s far enough that no one would recognize me and their rates are pretty inexpensive. Look how paranoid I've become.

Where is my Cece Winans CD? Today is my appointment, why is time passing so slowly? If only people knew what torture it is to just smile at them, they’d let me be. I didn’t feel like coming into work, but I skipped class. I just want to crawl into bed and overdose on sleeping pills. The only problem with that is I don’t have a prescription, no one I’m close to does either.
Very brilliant plan though. I finally got to the clinic; I was so close to tears, the nurses assured me everything would be fine. All the CIA interrogation questions they asked me, I know it's nothing personal, but having to say them aloud, has made me seriously consider my lifestyle. It's a Close Call.

(Photo Credits: © Corbis) (Model Used Solely For Illustrative Purposes)