The Miracle

I was nervous. My hands were sweaty and clammy, and I kept wiping them on my plus size jeans, which I hardly even fit into. Going to the doctor was never an easy task, and always awkward. Somehow, everything they tried to lower my weight didn’t seem to work. I clumsily locked the door and crawled into the driver’s seat of the car.
When I got there, Dr. Garza was waiting for me. She smiled one of those sympathetic smiles that doctors always keep handy. Then she ushered me to follow her, and we went into a small, dimly lit room with its walls painted a sickeningly bubbly pink. I stepped onto the special weighing machine, made for the overweight patients. “259 pounds,” she said in a rather alarmed tone. “Clair, you’ve gained nearly 30 pounds since your last visit,” she almost yelled. Rather sheepishly, I said, “I’ve tried different diets, but they all seemed to backfire.”
Dr. Garza looked as if she was going to be sick. But only after a moment, she regained her usual calming nature. She led me into a different room, this time with orange walls and a big window that showed the parking lot and the forest behind it. She then sat down and wrote on her clipboard for what seemed like an hour. Finally, she said, “Let’s put you on a major diet. It isn’t something we normally do, but your weight is getting out of hand.”
I was starting to get worried now. Was I that bad? My hands started to get clammy again, and I wished that I had cancelled the appointment. My mind raced through the possibilities. Dr. Garza, however, calm and composed, stated her plan for me. “Drinking some miracle drug?” I almost laughed. “Dr. Garza, in case you have forgotten, this is me we are talking about. But without another word, she gave me the prescription and motioned for me to leave. As I filed out, she whispered, “You might have to look around to find it,” as she pointed to the drug she prescribed with one long red fingernail.
When I went home, I sat myself down on the couch and typed the name of the medicine that was written on the paper that Dr. Garza gave me. But Google gave no relevant results, and I was starting to think this was all a gag. As I desperately scrolled through the pages, I found a website called miraclemeds.com. As soon as I clicked on it, a lion head filled the screen, and started talking. My eyes widened as it said, “Clair Jenson, 259 pounds, at 5’6”, you are in need of a Thinning Potion. Then, the lion head opened its mouth, gave a great roar, and disappeared. The page was now blank, except for one word on the screen, written in bold black letters: GARGOYLE.
I tried to exit the website, and go back. But it seemed like the screen was frozen in that position. I then tried to think calmly, and decided to call back Dr. Garza. But the lady on the receiver was the receptionist, and said that Dr. Garza was out of town for two weeks. So I went to bed early, though I don’t think I got a minute of rest. “What could this mean?” I thought out loud. “What does a gargoyle have to do with anything?” I thought back to the appointment, and wondered if this was what Dr. Garza meant when she said the medicine would be hard to find.
The next morning, as I went outside, a chilly breeze knocked me square in the face, as I wrapped my scarf tighter around me. The streets were empty, and a storm was brewing up above. But I knew where I was going. I was going to see the gargoyle. I wondered if I was crazy enough to believe what I saw and heard the previous day, but I decided it would be worth a try. So I headed to the giant gargoyle, coincidentally in the shape of a lion’s head, in front of a small shabby bookstore at the end of the street.
Now I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. I had a feeling that this was the gargoyle, but I had no idea how to get the Thinning Potion, whatever it was. I reached out and touched the cold gray stone, and instantaneously, a potion fell into my hands.
I ran back into the house, half wondering if hallucination was a side effect of obesity. As I rubbed my hands together for warmth, I reached out to the potion, which was in a tiny bottle about the size of my thumb. On the side, it said, “Drink only once.” I screwed the cap off, and drank it in one giant gulp. Dr. Garza had been right. Thin at last.