So I was trying to publish the piece below for a while now, with no takers, so I thought maybe you guys would like to read it. It's entitle Dragon. Enjoy
Dragon
I don't think too many people know, at least I
hope not, but I have a dragon in my belly. Now you may ask why I'm telling this
to you. Maybe it's because you wrote to me that one time. I can still see the
email in my inbox sitting there, right above the one from that nice man who
keeps worrying about my erectile abilities. I was quite surprised to receive
your message, its warmth quieted the dragon for quite some time. The dragon had
never been so quiet. But now the dragon has grown, and over the last few days
his fiery breath has been upsetting my stomach quite a bit. I didn't know who
to turn to, I had to tell somebody, but it's not exactly something you can say
to your normal doctor. "I have a dragon in my belly" would probably
land me in a white coat but would do little to calm the incendiary beast in my
gut. I've tried to tell my friends, lovers and parents at different points in
time, but the dragon always stops me. I get right to that point. You know the
one. The point where the word "dragon" is just about to come out, but
then he rears his head, lets out a fiery burst of air, and I have to do my best
to hide my pain.
Now, you're probably wondering why this crazy
man is going on and on about a dragon in his belly. But the dragon has stopped
me from doing so many wonderful things, from being who I know I can be, that I
need to get rid of it. It's impossible to go on like this. I need your help. I
have all the items here that I think I'll need, but I need your guidance,
please respond quickly.
I suppose in order to help me, you need to know all of the details of my
dragon. I can only provide the information I know. Like some kind of machine, I
can only relate what my senses have picked up, I can't create new information.
For a full understanding of my dragon, you'd have to create new information,
because I have never seen nor spoken to the dragon, just felt it's hot breath
on my insides. I wish I could say that it's 1 foot long and looks like
something out of one of the illustrated Norse mythology books, or maybe like
Puff from the cartoons when I was a kid.
Or better yet he could look like the Luck Dragon that saved Atreyu, but
I can't say what he looks like because he has never left my belly, I'm also pretty
sure that Luck Dragons don't breathe fire, and mine most certainly does.
What I do know of my dragon is that he only comes out at special times. I mean
every time I need to do something important the dragon pops up. I don't think
I'll ever forget the first time the dragon let his presence be known. I was
nine years old, it was the morning of the big test. I don't know if you recall,
but it was the first year that they implemented standardized testing in our
year. Our teachers had attempted to prepare us, and they were also careful to
make sure we knew how important our scores were, to the school, and to our
futures. It's tough to think of the future when you're nine. I don't think any
of my peers could recognize the importance of the day, visions of recess, foot
hockey, and four-square, playing through their heads. I'm fairly certain that
they only knew that the faster they answered the questions, the faster they
could go play.
I remember feeling different. I had always been a little different, not so much
that most would notice, I know my teachers and parents didn't notice, but I'm
pretty sure that some of the other kids noticed. There was that kid Josh, toe-headed and
flabby who thought it best to try and rip my jacket off by force... or that
girl Anne-Marie, who despite being laughed at herself never thought twice of
laughing at me... but I digress. Where
was I? Oh yes, the day of the test. On this day I felt particularly different.
I'm not sure if the dragon hatched that day, or if it had just been sleeping
since I was born, but that was the first day that it made it's presence truly
known.
I remember how they used the gym as the testing room. There weren't enough
teachers to properly monitor us in the classrooms, so they shoved all the desks
and chairs into the gym in even rows. We would file in and take our seats. I
always hated those chairs, you know the ones, attached to the desk by a thin
steel bar on the right side. Green. Always painted green. I never understood
why they painted them green, such an ugly colour. I bet it's the colour of my
dragon. Anyways. After taking our seats they started handing out the test face
down. I remember Travis three desks over turning his paper over right away
without the teachers noticing. He was always doing stuff without the teachers
noticing. Bad stuff.
The day of the test, sitting in that gym, I
couldn't worry about Travis, because a pain in my stomach had begun. A pain I
would get use to as the years have dragged on. It starts out as a burning
sensation as the dragon exhales. Sometimes I can feel him move around trying to
get comfortable. The dragon seems to know exactly where it will cause the most
pain, because on this test day, he turned his head in just the right direction
so that his flames licked my insides at the perfect spot for maximum
discomfort. There's only been a few times he's hit this spot, but they always
seem to be the most inopportune moments. Like the day I lost my virginity, or
the day I had my driver's exam, or the day the package arrived with my law
school acceptance, or that one game they made me starting quarterback, more for
laughs then for any real reason. It's lucky for me that by the time all of this
stuff would happen I'd become accustomed to hiding the fiery pain. But on that
first day, it was so unexpected that I screamed and then fainted. The school
rushed me to the hospital, I can still remember the fluorescent lights whizzing
by overhead in the hallway. But the doctors couldn't find anything wrong - they
said I was "faking it". But I knew there was a dragon in my belly and
it's been there ever since. Now maybe you can understand why I can't go to a
normal doctor for this type of thing.
To be honest, I'm surprised that nobody has ever asked me about the dragon.
It's not exactly something that's hard to miss. I know I've gotten pretty good
at hiding the pain, but I know every time he exhales fire that for a
split-second that pain shows on my face. I guess strangers will never be able
to know all that goes on in your head. Especially a head as different as mine.
It's funny though that even my best friends have never asked me about it. Even
if they don't know it's a dragon, they should have realized something was
wrong. But I guess it's not nice to pry, I know I don't. Everybody always wants
to know about all the good things about other people, but never the bad stuff,
never the troubling stuff. I guess because it worries them to much. I would
never want to cause somebody else anxiety. I guess I'll deal with my dragon
myself.
Speaking of dealing with, it's about time I faced my dragon. I need to explain
to him that I can't let him ruin my life anymore. I can't deal with the pain he
causes every time I want to make changes. I've read up on that information you
sent me in that message, and also the website you linked to. As I've been
writing this, I've come to the realization that I can't wait for your reply.
The dragon has been growing as I type. He's hit that special spot a few times,
and I know if I don't confront him soon, then I'll be in serious trouble. So I
think I've got all the equipment I need. I think I've got the write kind of
scalpel. I'll check your website once more. Yep, it's the right kind; "for
surgical use only". I bet this dragon will be surprised when I pull him
out of there. I bet he didn't know I had it in me.
Thanks a lot for all your encouragement. It's time I face my dragon, wish me
luck.
