Ache

It's been a long time since I last laid in the dark, crying over this. But tonight, every time I move my jaw or slide my tongue over my teeth, a familiar throbbing pain pulses through the molar that isn't there anymore.

And then, I remember.

An unfinished ceiling and the dull, red glow from the alarm clock on my right. Pain, confusion, and a panic I couldn't understand or process. Paralysis I wish I'd been brave enough to fight and a strange fear which still leaves a sick feeling in my stomach, and which chronically keeps coming back, like a cancer I can't beat.

I still remember what the monster said to me in that moment, and what I said in reply:

"You can't put anything in me without my consent."

So It hurt me more.

It had never liked the word "no", but the outright defiance in those words left me with something I'd never get back, and it wasn't just the tooth. Nevertheless, that particular injury feels very symbolic of the longer, more permanent impact that the events of that night would have on me.

They say the body replaces itself every seven years. I don't know that it's actually true, but I like to believe it, and I keep track of the days in a notebook. It helps, and I keep reminding myself that I'm almost halfway there. While cells break down and replace themselves over time, however, teeth do not, especially those that have been replaced by porcelain. Centuries after my death, I imagine that the false molar will outlive even my bones, adding further insult to injury by physically immortalizing a nightmare I would do anything to forget.

I hated it.

There shouldn't be any more pain. Like me, the tooth had been damaged, rotting on the inside from an injury that never should have happened, but the source of the infection had been removed, permanently, and it shouldn't be able to come back. They'd identified and removed the rot, hollowing out the hurt, and restored the vacant space with something stronger.

From the outside, my molar looked normal and undamaged, just like all its neighbors. It was a very convincing restoration, even if the porcelain still felt cold and strange under my tongue. By all rights, I shouldn't feel anything at all.

So why was it hurting so much again now?