!
I ran my tongue along my upper jaw and felt sharp shards that tasted like iron. I began trying to get up, and I remember I was shaky, and my entire body felt numb. My friend had managed to get into the corner of the hallway where she was now crying. Why was she crying when it wasn’ t her smile that was permanently marred? I felt angry at that moment, and I finally said the only thing I could muster to say between tears,“ What did you do to my teeth?”
As the commotion began around us, I could only feel anger at her. It was her fault we fell; it was her fault I couldn’ t put my arms out in front of me to catch my fall. But deep down, I knew that this was my fault. In that moment, I just couldn’ t help but look at her crying and whimpering with disdain and rage.
“ Mrs. Bruner! Emily was runnin’ down the hall!”“ She broke her teeth out!” My teacher raced out of the classroom, leaving the kids to peek their heads out to glance and grimace at my peril. Blood kept filling my mouth while I cried, and I was forced to swallow it without anywhere to spit. I heard someone ask if
I was alright. I didn’ t respond, and I didn’ t know if I could. She called the nurse for help since she couldn’ t leave the class unattended with their snack. I picked up one of the pieces of my teeth on the floor, cradling it in my palm as the nurse arrived to take me to the office. My parents were called while I sat there, trying to keep the borderline cardboard paper towels that they gave me to ease the bleeding. When they arrived, they saw my broken smile, and my mom cried as she held my face. My stuff was gathered from my classroom, and they took me as fast as possible to the dentist. The weeks that followed were a blur of visits to the dentist and X-rays, plans to get my teeth to look normal again. Plans that involved long needles and laughing gas that only tasted vaguely of the candy they promised me. I blocked all of it out to avoid potentially reliving that moment and the pain that followed for years, but I never forgot.
The worst part was having to come to school with my chipped teeth for months. Picture day came and went; luckily for me, there were reshoots later in the year. Though my teeth were fixed, I pushed the horrible memories out of my brain. One lesson rang through it all, and I never did skip in the hallways again.
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