Tooth Fairy Narrative

DON’T PEAK!

Every little kid’s nightmare, the horror story of a tooth fairy!

Final tooth, the last to fall out, lay cold, smooth and hard like glass, cold in my clenched fist. Unwrapping my fingers from around it and placing it in the very center of my pillow. Laying my head on the soft pillow, thinking if I could feel a little bump if I pressed my head down hard.

Some say that the tooth fairy doesn’t exist. They also say that she isn’t a good fairy either. They say she’s a fleeting wisp of shadow, formless until you cast your eyes upon her. She becomes a clawed screeching creature, a mass of black rags. Her only distinguishable features were deforming, claw hands and a white plastic mask. Two bloodshot eyes glaring through the two slits.

DON’T PEAK!

Shaking my head to knock loose the chilling thoughts. Pulling the covers up below my chin, turning on my side with my hands cupped around the tooth. The curtains flapped, the windows were open the way I like it. It was cold out and I was warm inside wrapped around my blanket under my sheets.

Imagining, my mind wandering from thought to thought. Sleep was more descending when a sound, a whispering hiss woke me from my trance. A gust of air drifted by, blowing a wisp of hair across my face, and the door creaked. Watching, I expected the door to close, as it always does. It opened, at a steady slow rate. A shadow lay across the floor, broken by the branches against the moonlight outside.

Snapping my eyes shut, hearing the sound of a harsh breathing, steady and strong. The sound of something sliding across the carpet, the soft muffled sound like a sack pulled shut over a head. The scrape of nails on wood shred through the air. Filling my head up with images of claws scratching across my pale skin. Under the sheets, my legs tensed and a clammy sweat broke on my forehead, preparing myself for the outcome. Hand, cold like ice, brushed across my head dry.

DON’T PEAK! DON’T