The Pact
It began with a bargain on a winter night,
When the cupboards were bare
And hope sat idle in the corners.
He came with frost on his collar,
A gentleman adorned in a burgundy suit
Polished alligator shoes, crimson silk tie,
And a smile too white, too wide.
He introduced himself only as “the Tooth Fairy.”
There he stood ancient and ravenous
And far from a myth.
"One tooth,” he said,
"And I’ll make sure your family's cup is always full.”
The first time was seamless.
A gold coin under the pillow.
The table groaned beneath the weight of food.
A whispered thanks into the dark.
Over the years,
He returned.
Never taking more than what the child had already lost.
Never asking for more than what the parents freely gave.
At first.
But he began to linger.
Amber eyes tracking the child’s growing frame.
"That one’s almost ready,” he’d murmur,
Adjusting his cufflinks,
The back of his claws brushing the cherub’s cheek as she slept.
The coins grew heavier.
The meals became gourmet.
The house—envy of the neighbourhood.
The family’s laughter grew louder—until the child stopped smiling.
By adolescence, the milk teeth were gone,
But he kept coming.
“You owe more than you think,” he growled.
They offered him trinkets.
He chuckled.
They begged for mercy.
He showed them the contract—
Signed in murmured consent,
Sealed with the shedding of innocence.
He took their hopes.
Then their dreams.
Then the light behind the eyes.
The house is still full—
But now, only with silence.
Beware pacts made in the dark and a pocket full of promises.
Not all that glitters is gold.
Not all monsters bare their teeth.
Copyright © Billie Jama | Year Posted 2025
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