I had found almost all of the hidden objects in the magazine when I was
by the receptionist. My dad pulled the magazine from my hands and yanked
me from the chair. As I slowly walked to the examination room he began
kicking me in the ass trying to hurry me along, which actually worked.
As I sat on the exam table, I wondered how long I had to live and what I
would need to do if I really did have a tumor. Travelling around the
world was out since I didn’t have much money and nothing else really
appealed to me so I figured I would lock myself in my bedroom and burn
things since that gave me great pleasure. Of course that would happen
after I lost my virginity to one of the numerous town whores wandering
When the doctor finally appeared, I had accepted my short life and was
ready for any news he had. Instead of news though, he handed me a clear
“Is this for my personal belongings?” I asked saddened that this
supposedly caring individual would think that in my life I had
accumulated only enough to fill a small cup.
“No, you moron,” he said. “It’s for you to pee in.”
This seemed to be an odd request especially if I was at death’s door,
but I went ahead and did it anyway figuring I had nothing to lose. I
figured they wanted my pee so that they could run a multitude on tests
to figure out what went wrong with me and maybe come up a cure so other
youth like me wouldn’t be struck down at such an early age.
When I was done he told me to go sit in the waiting room while he talked
with my parents. As I was leaving the exam room I asked him if it all
started with visions of shit flinging monkeys but he didn’t reply.
As I passed my parents in the hallway I started crying and apologized
for all my wrongdoings. They both gave me an odd look which I figured
was par for the course for parents of young ‘uns who were about to kick
Someone had nabbed the Highlight magazine I was reading earlier so I
picked up a Sports Illustrated and started paging through it as the
tears flowed from my eyes.
Why me/ I though as I flipped the pages and then all thought exited from
my brain as I came upon a picture of a woman in a bikini. I turned the
page and there was another woman in a skimpy bathing suit and I smiled.
I wiped the snot dripping from my nose and flipped the page and gazed
upon another beauty in a bathing suit.
My upcoming death exited my thoughts as I gazed upon page after page of
scantily clad women. Soon I was panting and squirming in the seat until
I came upon a picture of a model who didn’t look embarrassed that the
suit she was wearing didn’t do a hell of a good job covering her nipples
and that’s when I felt something explode in my groin area.
I suddenly felt at peace and decided I would fight whatever dreaded
disease I might have. I flung down the magazine, stood up and shouted,
“I want to live! I WANT TO LIVE!”
The waiting room was quiet for a moment and then someone started
laughing. I looked around and saw that it was a young boy.
“Look ma!” he said as he pointed at me. “He peed his pants!”
I looked down and, sure enough, there was a wet spot on the front of my
jeans. I quickly sat down and hung my head in shame.
COMING NEXT: Was it really pee?