Head resting on my pillow, I stared at the popcorn ceiling, wishing for the courage to end it all. The knife was in my hand. One slash, and it would be over. But I couldn’t.
In the rugged texture, I saw patterns, shapes. Ordinarily, there was diversity to the images. Today, I saw only fists. A fusillade of fists firing down, joined by a chorus of voices. “F*****t, f*****t, you’re so gay. Take your AIDS and go away.”
I thought Nick liked me the way I liked him. Come prom time, I made a banner, decked out with hand-drawn art. I had my friends help me carry it into the lunchroom so we could show it to him. In big red letters it said: “Nick—prom?” Nick took one look at it and laughed. Some others in the room joined in. And later, in the alley behind the field…
“F****t, f****t, you’re so gay. Take your AIDS and go away.”
Nick and his friends beat me black and blue. One punch to the jaw hit so hard it knocked a tooth loose. It clattered on the concrete like a coin, and I put it in my pocket. It was under my pillow now. Mom always said if you lose a tooth and put it under your pillow, the Tooth Fairy will bring you something good. Nonsense, but comforting.
“F****t, f****t, you’re so gay. Take your AIDS and go away.”
The fists were gone. Now the bumps on the ceiling looked like teeth, thousands of teeth, coming to chew me up and spit me out like the worthless trash I am.
I blinked and looked again. The ceiling was descending. A shivering, rattling mass of teeth was forming. It grew a pair of arms, then fingers, then legs, and then the whole thing broke free, dropping with a thud to the side of the bed. A stench came with it, like halitosis.
I raised the knife in my shaking hand, ready to defend myself. I thought my ability to feel fear had been punched right out of me. I’d been wrong. But the intruder shook its head.
“No.” Its voice was like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “No.” It gestures to my pillow with a canine-pointed finger.
At first, I didn’t get what the thing is trying to say. Then I remembered. The tooth. I took it out and handed it over.
“Make a wish,” the thing said.
Kill me. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but they wouldn’t come out. A different idea began to form. I smiled.
I made sure Nick knows I was headed for the alley after school. Sure enough, he and his two goons met me there.
“Look at the smile on this f****t’s face. Guess he likes being fisted,” Nick said. “Big surprise.” He stepped toward me, fist clenched, and reared his arm back.
A hand made of teeth emerged from the ground and grabbed his ankle.
“What the fu—” he started to say, but didn’t finish. He screamed.
More teeth emerged, swarming up his leg and over him. He screamed and screamed. The teeth were eating him. Blood everywhere.
His friends ran. They didn’t get far. The alley floor was a bed of chattering teeth. The morons tripped, fell, and their screams joined the screams of their leader.
And I kept on smiling.