Misha’s face bathed in the blue light coming from her phone, the harsh shadows making her frown more apparent. She clutched the blanket tightly against her chin, reading the words over and over.
“Oof, she’s giving real chipmunk vibes.”
The comment left her throat dry, teeth sinking harshly into her lower lip. She tapped the picture, zooming into her expression—eyes shut, head tilted backward in a fit of laughter. Poking out from underneath her curled lips were her front teeth.
She normally wouldn’t be this affected when it came to teasing. Her friend—could she still call her that?—probably didn’t mean any harm. However, the anxiety from possibly getting braces and frustration over blistering acne made her feel more disgusted with herself. Scoffing, she logged off the app and shut her phone, tossing it carelessly on her bedside table. Maybe her teeth were too large or even yellow.
What she needs right now is rest, perhaps sleeping it off could make her forget about the sour ordeal. Yet, as she laid on her side, she found herself running her tongue over her molars subconsciously. At the very end of the curved row, something hard pushed against her gums. Letting her tiredness take over, she shrugged it off, pegging it to be her first wisdom tooth.
The first thing she felt that morning was mind-numbing pain. It felt like someone drilled a hole into her mouth, constantly pressing ice against the root of her teeth. She groaned, tears pricking in her eyes. She tried to call out for her mother, only to be interrupted by a vicious sob. After what felt like years, Ms. Perez rushed into her room, cradling her curled-up frame. Misha managed to choke out a string of words incoherently. She pressed a hand against her cheek, the other one pointing into her mouth.
“Diyos ko,” her mother tried to peer into her mouth. “I think your wisdom tooth is sprouting. I’m going to contact Dr. De Silos to see if we can move your appointment today.”
While her mother was busy talking on the phone, Misha writhed in pain on the bed. She brought her knees close to her, burying her face in them. Trembling, she ran her tongue against the same spot, except this time, the hard bump was replaced with a newly-formed tooth.
Her breath hitched.
“Teeth can’t grow that fast.”
She checked other areas of her mouth; poking and prodding until she felt another bump. This time, it was on her left, upper jaw. The tip of a sharp canine seemingly tore through the pink flesh of her gums. What made it weirder was the placement; the slightly hooked tip hung just a few millimeters above the gap of her two teeth. Frantically, she reached into her drawer for a hand mirror, opening her mouth wide in front of it.
“Teeth aren’t sharp. Teeth aren’t—there!”
The gums around it tinged a deep red. Faint outlines of nerves trailed from it, bright blue strings contrasted by the white enamel, fading into pink. She tilted her head back, trying to find the newly-erupted “wisdom tooth.” Instead, she discovered another chunk of enamel pushing through the roof of her mouth. This one sprouted rapidly, stretching the skin with its pointed end.
Misha reached in with her fingers, trying to halt its growth. She could feel the tip of the tooth strain against the thin flesh. It dug into the pads of her fingers, sharper than normal human teeth. Eventually, the soft palate burst, torn by the incisor.
“Ah!” Shocked, she stared at her hand coated in blood and saliva. “No, no, no. Stop!”
More bumps formed at the roof of her mouth, rapidly tearing at her palate. The soft tissue of her gums stretched as well, small droplets of blood starting to flow from the jagged points. Her whole mouth seemed to split, throbbing against the overwhelming growths. She brought both hands under her lower jaw, clamping her thumbs against her jaw and other eight fingers down her cheeks. Desperately, she tried to keep her mouth shut, hoping that the lack of space would halt them.
Instead, they dug into her tongue, piercing the flesh.
She sobbed harder, tasting the bitterness of iron. Opening her jaw, her hands scrambled once again for the hand mirror, shakily bringing it up towards her mouth. Horrified, she found her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, skewered by rows of sharp teeth. Crooked teeth crudely broke out of her gums, leaving almost no visible tissue.
Blood and saliva gushed from her lips, dribbling onto her shirt and lap. With a quivering hand, she tugged her tongue down, large slits quickly pooling with blood forming on it right after. Her back crashed towards her mattress, tipped over by her forceful action. Feeling lightheaded, her hysterical screams quieted into soft whimpers.
She was almost thankful for the release from consciousness. The last thing she felt was the faint sensation of impacted teeth brushing against the underside of her tongue and pricking against her skin.
It was night when her mother woke her up. Her mouth didn’t hurt anymore, save for a few traces of numbness.
“It’s time for you to take your painkillers. Dr. De Silos said it hurt so much because the tooth grew sideways. Don’t worry, honey, it’s not there anymore,” her mother nudged a glass of water toward her hands. “I’ll get you more ice to relieve the pain.”
From the corner of her eyes, Misha saw her phone’s light blinking. In a daze, she absentmindedly scrolled through the notifications, pausing on a new reply under the harsh comment.
“I think she looks amazing! :D”
A small smile ghosted on her lips. She rolled her tongue around her mouth, the space on her gums and palette being clear. She searched for the hand mirror again, fingers brushing against the cool metal of its handle on her bedside table.
Gazing into the glass, she was met with a normal set of teeth. A cotton pad was stuffed near the inside of one cheek. Through the moonlight, she could spot the small glint of excess teeth sitting snugly next to her molars.
Her grin beamed back.
